Chapter Text
Chapter One: Day One
Ten year old Tim Drake could barely contain his excitement as he stepped off of the subway car and into the station in the basement of the Wayne Enterprises Building. He slipped his thumbs under the straps of his backpack and hurried across the richly tiled floor toward the elevator that would take him to the lobby. It was barely seven in the morning and check-in for the two-week summer day camp didn't start until nine, but Tim hadn't been able to bear waiting another minute in his empty house. He was going to spend six (or more, if his dreams came true) hours a day for the next ten business days near the company's Research and Development sector, getting exposure to the world of advanced technology and computer science.
His expensive, and thankfully compact, camera bounced against his chest as he speed walked to the elevator bank and deftly dodged the distracted adults who weren't expecting a small, unattended child to be darting between them at that hour. Tim was planning to take as many pictures of the inside of the technology Mecca as he was allowed, just in case his eidetic memory failed him. Tim didn't want to lose a moment of this experience.
The pristine, marbled lobby of the towering structure was just as busy as the subway station, making it easy for Tim to go unmarked by the army of receptionists seated in a neat line behind their continuous desk. He had to push up on his toes to read the plaque under the first display case he came to, which featured a large chunk of twisted metal and severed wires. He grinned as he scanned the short description of the "mishap" that resulted in the destruction of Patrick Wayne's first supercomputer.
The next display case held an early prototype of a robotic arm that had been developed under the direction of Martin Cannan, the head of the R&D department during the time between Thomas Wayne's untimely death and his son Bruce's reluctant ascension to the head of the company. A small LCD screen mounted on the plexiglass at the back of the case played a loop of the current robotics research taking place at the company. Tim watched all five minutes of it three times, grinning the whole time. At least one learning session during his camp would revolve around robotics.
More display cases featured history from the company's other divisions, including transportation, medical, biotechnology, and many smaller sectors that were just waiting for their day to shine.
The alarm on Tim's tiny digital watch beeped at eight forty-five, causing his excitement to ratchet up yet again. He spun around quickly so he could make sure that he was first in line to register and therefore had the maximum time to read through all of the notes on the coursework that had been promised when he received his acceptance packet in the mail. He hadn't noticed anyone stepping up behind him to survey the brief timeline of the company until he smacked face first into the man's stomach.
"Whoa, slow down, kid," said the man, grasping Tim's upper arm gently to help the child regain his balance.
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't--" Tim looked up at the stranger he'd just inconvenienced and his words died on his tongue. The middle-aged African American gentleman sporting narrow frame glasses and a perfectly fitted suit had been on the cover of Business Monthly enough times for it to be impossible for Tim to not recognize him. "I… I…"
"Surely I'm not that scary," the man said, smiling softly. "I have a daughter about your size, you know."
"M-mister Fox," Tim finally stammered out. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you--"
"I'm not in the least bit harmed, young man. What's your name, son?"
"Tim." The child swallowed nervously, and realized with embarrassment that he'd gone tongue-tied again. "Uh, Drake," he added as an afterthought. "I'm here for the summer camp!"
"Tim Drake," Lucius Fox repeated. "Any relation to Jack Drake over at DI?"
"He's my father," Tim admitted. "But their company doesn't offer programs like this and I just love what you do here and I wanted to learn--"
Mr. Fox laughed. "Relax, son. You're welcome here, though I thought the camp was meant for middle and high schoolers. Is your father milling about here somewhere?"
"No, my mother brought me," Tim lied. Both of his parents were currently abroad, investigating a new archeology site along the Nile River. "She's using the powder room." Tim's watch beeped again and the child bit his lower lip when he realized that he was now five minutes behind schedule. "I'm sorry, Mr. Fox, but registration opens at nine and--"
"Of course. Punctuality is important. I hope you enjoy the camp. We'll convert you over to the dark side in no time."
Tim grinned in response to Mr. Fox's teasing smile. "You won't have to try very hard, sir."
The man stepped aside so Tim could continue to the second floor conference room where he would present his acceptance card in exchange for his orientation materials and find his seat at the front of the classroom. The volunteer at the check-in desk barely glanced at him when he handed over the card and she checked his name off of the list of students. "This is for your parents; parent orientation is in room 216. Student orientation is in room 218."
"Thanks," Tim said. "I'll let my mom know." He slipped away from the table and easily found room 218. The room was clearly used for this type of activity on numerous occasions, as it was decorated with more posters and placards honoring the company's long transition from a shipping and chemical company to the leader in multiple fields. Tim was torn between reading all of the blurbs or flipping through his syllabus and scanned notes. In the end, he settled into a seat behind the first row of tables and consoled himself that he'd probably already knew everything that the posters could tell him, anyway.
A boy nearly twice his size took the seat next to Tim. Tim smiled up at him. "Hi, I'm Tim," he offered. He didn't have many (any) friends and while he'd long ago resigned himself to the fact that he was destined to be the freakish loner who was obsessed with computers and superheroes, he couldn't help hoping that one day he'd meet someone who could stand to spend more than five minutes with him. Usually his potential friendships with kids his age died right about the same time he opened his mouth and started speaking in what apparently amounted to a foreign language. But this camp was supposed to be for bright kids who were interested in engineering and technology careers, so he let himself hope he'd meet a kindred spirit.
"Daniel," the kid replied, and his voice cracked on the last syllable. Tim guessed that he was about fifteen then. Daniel's face colored under his smattering of freckles and he cleared his throat self-consciously. Tim wasn't about to judge him - he couldn't wait until he hit puberty. Maybe he'd finally hit the growth spurt that he'd been denied his whole life.
"It's nice to meet you," Tim continued, putting to use the social cues he'd learned from studying characters' dialogue on television and reading his mother's romance novels. "Have you been to a camp like this before?"
"No, this is my first," said the older boy awkwardly. "My dad's an engineer and he thinks that if I just got some exposure to it, that I'd want to follow in his footsteps. Honestly, I have no idea what the difference is between a semi-conductor and a capacitor. These two weeks are going to be grueling."
"Hey, that you even know such things exist is a start," Tim said, trying to be encouraging.
A second boy sat down next to Daniel and the two appeared to know each other from school. Daniel didn't bother to introduce Tim to the new kid, nor did he acknowledge the small boy's presence again. Tim sighed to himself and brushed off his short pang of disappointment. He settled into flipping through the notes until the camp director stepped up behind the podium.
After a short lecture about rules and how the camp would be run, the kids were taken on a tour on the building. Tim wasn't surprised that they didn't get anywhere near the upper floors where such legends as Lucius Fox and Bruce Wayne himself had offices. Meeting the CEO of the company had been an unexpected joy that Tim had never imagined happening, so he definitely wasn't holding his breath for a run-in with the president.
Tim listened to their tour guide with split attention as he tried to peek into every open door they passed. He wondered if he'd see any sign of the company's secret support of Gotham City's very own Dark Knight. He doubted that Batman would be negligent enough to leave obvious clues within the halls of his company, but Tim knew he was sharper than most and if anyone would spot the hidden link, it would be him. After all, last year he'd finally figured out that Robin and his civilian hero, Dick Grayson, were one and the same, leading to the avalanche conclusion that Bruce Wayne was Batman and now that Dick had become Nightwing, the billionaire's new ward, Jason Todd, was filling in as the Boy Wonder.
Tim thought there was nothing that could surpass being adopted by Batman and becoming Robin, not even being a prince or a movie star. He was very much jealous of Dick and Jason, despite how much he idolized them.
The tour ended and the kids were led to the cafeteria for lunch. With his orientation packet, Tim had received a card for use in the expansive food court. He wasn't much of a foodie and ate just enough to fuel his academic and athletic pursuits, so he was happy enough to settle for a chicken Caesar salad at the first stall he came to. He sat at the end of a table filled with other campers and was summarily ignored, so he amused himself by pulling out his tablet and opening the CAD software that he was using to work on his own personal foray into computer hardware.
Tim had been struck with the idea of inventing a hand-held device that could be used to analyze forensics evidence, such as blood, tissue, hair, fingerprints, etcetera, without having to wait for access to a lab. Maybe when he was older, he could actually build such a device and offer it to Batman for use. As far as he could tell, the caped crusader was still stocking his utility belt with evidence collection gear and wasting precious case-solving time driving back and forth to the mysterious Batcave.
The afternoons were meant to be short, with a two-hour lab on a different topic each day filling out the last session. There were an odd number of students in Tim's group and instead of bothering a duo of paired up eighth graders, Tim took up his seat at the last station by himself. He was too eager to start playing with the bits and pieces of electronics before him to be too upset at being forgotten yet again. He raced through the pre-lab reading and answered the comprehension questions in under a minute, leaving him nearly the whole two hours to tinker with the kit before him. Unfortunately, Tim had a working device within thirty minutes. He frowned at the blinking box and wished that he'd thought to bring one of the spare hard drives he had at home. He'd make sure to remember it tomorrow. Bored, he doodled on the plastic with his permanent marker.
"Hi… Tim," said the lab assistant, Meghan, greeted upon stopping next to his table. She smiled nicely at him. "Are you having trouble with the lab?"
"No," he replied. He poked at the box and all of the correct lights started blinking to show her that he'd finished already. Meghan blinked a couple of times in surprise.
"Uh, well… have you seen this kit before?"
Tim stopped himself just before he said no. "Yeah," he lied. "I, um, got it for Christmas a few… er, last year." He'd remember tomorrow to pretend to struggle with the task if it looked like he was going to finish too quickly.
"Huh." She scanned his completed box and then noticed what he'd drawn on it. "What's that?"
Tim cringed. He hadn't even been paying attention as he replicated his favorite design right on the face of his Wayne Enterprises circuitry kit. "It's a… bat," he replied, pulling the box toward himself and angling it away from her.
"Oh, like Batman?" She chuckled. "That's cute." She wandered away then to check on the progress of the other students. Tim rolled his eyes. Batman wasn't cute. He was amazing and powerful and dangerous and amazing.
Tim patiently waited out the end of the day, pretended to search for his parents in the crowd of adults, and hurried toward the elevators that would take him back to the subway station. Tomorrow he'd hang around as long as he could and see if he could sneak into the real R&D lab, but he was expecting Batman and Robin to make a showing down in the Bowery that night, so he needed to get in a nap and prepare.
to be continued...