Chapter Text
“I’m glad we can finally sit down together, Tim.” Dinah starts with a kind smile, her hands purposefully open and within sight of Tim’s astute gaze. She’s trained to work with people like Tim, people like the Waynes—vigilantes who’ve seen more than their fair share of shit in life, though Tim’s never ‘partaken’ of her services before.
It’s been 3 weeks since Tim’s official return ‘home’. Bruce, Dick, Jason, Cass and even Damian have all been subtly (what they think is subtle anyway) encouraging Tim to talk to someone about his ordeal. He put it off as long as he could, but finally decided it was time, if only to appease their anxieties.
“Me too,” Tim says impassively. “I appreciate you taking the time.”
Dinah has a look in her eye as he says the words, unnervingly observant, as if she’s already seeing through the calm facade Tim’s attempting to present.
Dinah continues, “Well, Bruce has filled me in on the basics of your situation. Have you ever attempted therapy before? Now or in your previous experiences?"
‘Previous experiences’ is a kind way to put it, Tim thinks blithely.
“A bit…before,” he admits haltingly. “I was uhh… going through a hard time.”
Dinah nods. “May I ask if it was me you talked to before?”
Tim shakes his head, “No. No I didn’t…I didn’t want anyone close to me to know.”
Dinah doesn’t comment on that, though Tim is sure it raises some sort of red flags.
“That’s understandable,” she says sympathetically. “I want to assure you though that everything you say here will be kept under strict confidentiality. You’re safe to speak here freely.”
Tim just nods.
He isn’t exactly happy about being here. Tim knows how important therapy is. It’s practically a requirement to do what they do and also be a functioning human being. He knows from observation over the years, and even more so in the last few weeks, the fundamental difference in the family as a result. The family is more stable than Tim’s ever seen it, and that’s saying a lot seeing as the Bats are constantly at various levels of emotional constipation at any given second (Tim included).
So does Tim know he needs therapy? Sure. Does he want it?
Hell. no.
He really isn’t interested in opening the can of worms that was his former life, nor is he interested in talking about the effect of his self-imposed isolation over the last 9 years. It’s a sure road to reliving the pain of those experiences, something that Tim was more than happy putting behind him forever—an option unfortunately no longer available to him.
A long moment of silence follows Dinah’s promise, as if she uncharacteristically doesn’t know how to move forward any more than Tim does.
Dinah shifts, straightening slightly. “In the name of open communication and to ensure we're on the same page, I have to ask…how well did we know each other before? If at all?”
Tim considers that. “We were acquainted, but not much more than that. Probably similar to your relationship with any of the other proteges in Titans. Friendly, but not necessarily personal.”
Dinah nods as if expecting as much. “I thought that might be the case, but I had to check. You’re comfortable speaking with me then?”
Tim gives her a soft look, “As comfortable as I can be, Dinah.”
“I’ll take it,” she smiles, then sombers again. “...I know you’re going through a trying adjustment, Tim. I want to support you through that and maybe even give you some tools to help you navigate it. To start today, can you tell me a bit about how you’ve been feeling these last few weeks?”
Tim chews at the side of his cheek in thought. “I’ve been fine,” he says non-committedly.
Dinah just nods, seeming unperturbed by his evasiveness. “What were the first few days like for you?” she asks more specifically.
Tim cocks his head and actually thinks about it.
The first week, Tim was practically chained to his bed, Alfred not letting him up for anything. It was both suffocating and incredibly novel. His little disappearing act apparently made everyone a bit nervous he’d actually run off though. So despite his protests, at least one member of the family kept Tim company throughout the days of his mandated bedrest, both to get to know him and hopefully jog some memories.
For all the good that did.
“It was weird,” Tim finally decides. “...it’s still weird.”
“Weird how?”
Tim swallows, images flashing behind his eyes of his former life and relationships, so very different from whatever they have going on now.
“Maybe different is the better word,” he mutters quietly. “It’s all different now…”
Dinah hums sympathetically, “Change is a challenge everyone has to face at some point or another. Although, not likely to the extent you’re experiencing it,” she says wryly.
Tim huffs, “Yah…I just…” He swallows. “I’m happy to be back, even if it is weird and uncomfortable at times but…” Tim shakes his head. “I just feel like I don’t know how to interact with any of them.”
That is putting it mildly. The truth is interacting with the family at all is a test on Tim’s patience and sanity. They’re all trying so hard, trying their hardest to be their version of normal and welcoming.
It makes Tim extremely uncomfortable.
“Are they really so different from how you knew them before?” Dinah asks, sounding actually curious.
Tim shakes his head. And maybe that’s what actually makes it so difficult.
Really, everyone’s personalities remain fairly consistent. They’re just all so… stable. Well, as stable as a family of trauma bonded vigilantes can be anyway. But to Tim who is used to a far more aggressively dysfunctional family dynamic… yah it’s weird.
It’s weird seeing Bruce gently remind Jason and Damian about their therapy appointments every other week, and for both boys to take that reminder well, and not be embarrassed or cagey about it.
It’s weird seeing Jason so well integrated into the family, not a smidgen of bitterness apparent even if he and Bruce still bicker about the effectiveness of their various methods.
It’s weird to suddenly be the center of the family’s attention, a sort of familiar stranger now existing in their space. Not just a stranger, but a stranger who truly knows them, knows them in ways they themselves may not.
“No, they…they are exactly what I would expect them to be under better circumstances…. It’s different, but not unexpected.”
“But that still affects the dynamics of your relationships,” Dinah infers. “Even subtle differences can have a profound impact.”
Tim nods slowly. “I think…I think it’s more on my part then it is on theirs,” he admits.
“What do you mean?”
Tim shrugs. “I know too much,” he states frankly. “I’m not the kid any of them knew when I first met them way back when.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
“Not bad,” Tim denies somberly. “Just different. And I…I don’t know how to move past that when they still don’t-” Tim cuts himself off sharply, clenching his jaw tightly.
“When they still don’t remember?” Dinah finishes softly.
Tim nods.
It’s been harder than Tim imagined, the family’s continued memory loss. Despite the consistent time he’s been spending with all of them (awkward or not), nobody has made significant progress in regaining their memories.
3 weeks ago, Tim probably would have been relieved by that fact. There's a giant shit show on the horizon for whenever those memories return. He knows it will, in many ways, change the whole of the family—and he’s still not convinced it will be for the better.
Damian and Cass seem to be doing alright all things considered, but they certainly aren’t as unburdened as they once were. Depending on the person, the memories have the potential to completely re-write their understanding of reality—their very identity.
And yet…
Just a few weeks of living with the family and Tim can hardly take it anymore. He misses them, misses the relationships he used to have with them—as difficult as it was at times. Tim’s place in the family was admittedly tenuous before, but that’s just how it was. He was used to it. It was normal for him to trade insults with Jason, banter with Steph, and outright contradict Bruce when the occasion called for it. Tim would gladly take that to what he’s been getting lately.
He knows remembering will come with its own trials, but at this point Tim is eager for it—raring for a fight, for a backhanded comment, something other than the unfettering concern.
Trained as they all are, it isn’t exactly difficult for the family to tell that Tim is uncomfortable near constantly. As a result, no one has any idea how to treat Tim. They seem to think he’s one second from bolting at any given moment. He can’t take anymore of the kind eyes and sympathetic glances, the way that everyone seems to be tiptoeing around him, afraid to say or do something wrong, as if Tim hasn’t seen all of them at their worst.
Every interaction feels… stale. Manufactured.
Being apart from the family was hard but being with them in this state, forced to confront the fact they know nothing about him, is almost worse.
Tim knows that the others, especially Damian, can sense his growing discontent. They don’t seem to understand that Tim can’t just slip back in as if nothing has changed, as if he’s just another new adopted addition to the family. They forget, or at least can’t quite comprehend, that Tim already knows them, knows them intrinsically. So any attempt to ‘get to know’ him just feels off and one-sided to him.
How does one even begin to form a relationship with someone who already knows your best and worst parts?
It’s a losing battle. At this rate, Tim doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to form good connections with any of them without their memories.
If that is even possible.
Dinah ponders that for a moment. “Normally in situations like this, where I have a patient who is experiencing stress from a certain place or group of people, I would advise them to create distance between you and the causes of that stress. But with this…well… if Zatanna is to be believed, you need to interact with them for the memories to come back, yes?”
Tim shrugs helplessly, “That’s what I’ve been told.”
“But you don’t believe it?” she probes.
“I believe Damian and Cass have their memories," he states. “I’m..I’m not so sure the others will be a guarantee.”
Nothing about this entire situation is a guarantee. Of course he wants everyone to remember him, but it’s quite possible that it just isn’t in the cards. Afterall, he’s worked with Tam for years and she’s never shown any sign of remembering what used to be. Whose to say the rest of the family is any different? It’s possible that Damian and Cass are the exceptions, not the rule.
Dinah narrows her eyes, “You’re ‘not so sure’, or you don’t want to get your hopes up?”
Tim keeps his face blank and unbothered. He tries to maintain eye contact, but Dinah’s eyes are piercing, her expression firm yet honest, and he can’t quite manage it. He looks away sheepishly, internally scolding himself.
He’s always done this, look for logical explanations to problems that really come down to some sort of vulnerability or emotional insecurity. Intellectualization he recalls reading from a psychology book on a day he was performing for his security cameras. He readies himself for every worst case scenario that could potentially cause him harm. He has to. Because when those things happen, he has to keep going somehow.
So, as the weeks have gone by without progress, Tim has maybe perhaps started coming to the conclusion that the whole family remembering just might not be scientifically possible. Does he have any scientific evidence to support this theory? No. But neither can any one seem to show him evidence it is possible, Damian’s attempted reasoning’s not withstanding.
Granted, everyone has been reported dreaming to some extent, though not much sticks once they wake. And yes, the occasional stray memory seems to come back here and there, but Tim has begun to think he’s reading into those moments as well. It's never anything definitive. Just the other day Alfred bought a new brand of coffee for the kitchen, specifically Tim’s preferred brand.
“That’s not the usual stuff,” Bruce commented upon taking his first sip.
“No sir,” Alfred confirmed. “I saw it at the market and thought perhaps we could do with a change.”
Bruce gave him a quizzical look, but accepted it easily enough.
Tim said nothing, not wanting to look any deeper in case it truly was a coincidence.
Dinah gives a soft nod of understanding at his non-response, and gracefully changes the subject.
“How’s it been with Damian and Cass?” she asks.
“Good,” he says truthfully. Damian and Cass are perhaps the only reason Tim hasn’t made a run back to Drake Manor yet.
Cass’s presence is, as always, steady and supportive. Unlike literally anyone else, she treats Tim exactly as she always has. It’s a point of consistency that Tim has quickly started relying on amongst everything else. She checks in with him every now and again, but Cass has never needed words to know how someone is really doing. Generally, she goes on normally, still taking missions with Steph when the need arises. Otherwise, she waits for Tim to come to her if he needs her, as per their agreement all those years ago.
Damian, however, is trying very hard (maybe too hard) to be a good brother to Tim, seeing as he’s the only one Tim currently truly has. He spent the first 2 weeks at Tim’s side constantly, carefully monitoring his recovery and his interactions with the others.
“Damian was keeping me company more often than not but he's back in school now,” Tim tells her.
“You enjoy spending time with him?” she asks.
“I do,” he admits. “He’s…annoying sometimes but I suppose all little brothers are.”
Even though they didn’t have this depth of a relationship before, it’s been fairly easy to fall into it for both of them. It's as if they were both just waiting for the opportunity, hoping it would be welcome from the other. Generally, Tim doesn’t mind him sticking close, he actually enjoys it. It’s nice to embrace this evolving sort of brotherhood between them. It’s new and untested to be sure, but good. (Though, he does sometimes wish he’d cool it with the overprotective little brother routine).
“Have things been harder since he went back to school?”
Tim withholds a heavy sigh as she once again hits the nail right on the head. Damian’s presence, however overbearing at times, has been a nice buffer to have between Tim and the others. At Bruce’s insistence, Tim decided to take a few weeks off from work while he recovers. The board has taken over his responsibilities in the meantime. Tim can only hope they don’t seriously fuck it up before he comes back.
Because his ‘kidnapping’ and injured state was made known to the public, he can’t realistically return to work until a socially acceptable recovery time has passed.
Meaning he’s stuck at the manor 24/7 until then.
Damian was quick to insist, in the beginning, that Tim move into the Wayne Manor permanently— a decision Tim is more than a little wary about. Sure, Drake Manor is just down the road, and yes the more time Tim spends with the family, the quicker their memories will return (that’s the theory anyway), but it isn’t like Tim lived full time at the Manor in the other reality either. He’s an adult with responsibilities. It doesn’t logistically make sense for him to be here all the time. Dick, Jason, Barbara, and Steph are much the same. They come and they go freely. All of them get sick of Bruce from time to time anyway; Tim isn’t exactly alone in feeling stifled.
Though, he doubts the others will see it that way.
Regardless, he promised Damian he’d stick around, and he will. He assured Bruce he’d stay put physically at the manor at least until he’s recovered from the splenectomy. A normal splenectomy done by a professional in a hospital would only take about a week of recovery time before Tim could be back to work. His situation however was a bit more…traumatic, meaning his recovery time will be more like a month.
He can’t help but count down the days.
Now that Damian is back in school, the awkwardness at the Manor is near constant, leaving him anxious, cautious. It’s part of the reason he finally agreed to meet with Dinah, even if it just meant having some time from it for a while.
“Maybe…a bit,” Tim mutters.
“How so?”
Tim shrugs, “Damian…Damian knows on some level what I’ve been through. Even if he really doesn't know the half of it, he’s aware. And he can read me well enough to divert conversations I don’t know how to engage in, or distract someone while I get my bearings. Without him…” Tim swallows. “It just makes everything a bit more difficult.”
“What about Cass?”
“Cass is always there when I need her,” Tim assures. “But… Well…whatever the opposite of a helicopter parent is, that’s Cass. She trusts me to figure things out and will only actively intervene if I ask. It’s something I’ve always appreciated about her. I know she cares, but she won’t encroach on my independence.”
“But you’re alright with Damian doing it?”
Tim cocks his head, thinking about that before shrugging, “It’s as much a comfort to me as it is to him right now. We’re both…adjusting.”
“And how about everyone else? How are they adjusting?”
“Hn,” Tim grunts. “As well as can be expected I suppose.”
“Tell me about them,” she presses.
Tim sighs, “Well. Dick is…Dick. He’s all happy smiles and easy going kindness.”
“And that makes you uncomfortable?”
Tim winces, just slightly.
“Very.”
Dick is always free with his words and with his affection. He asks Tim about his interests and his hobbies but that line of questioning quickly goes cold when Tim tells him he hasn’t done much but run his business and act as Cardinal all these years. There was a time when this exact same amount of care meant everything to him, but Tim can’t help but be wary of it now.
He isn’t a child anymore.
“Why do you think that is?”
Tim shakes his head slowly.
Back when Tim and Dick first became ‘brothers’, Dick was still guilty about what happened to Jason. He wanted to be a better brother to Tim. Dick is a good person. He is. The situation with Jason was just bad all around. Dick didn’t trust Bruce and couldn’t even begin to form a relationship with a boy he saw as his replacement.
Tim was different though. Dick tried very hard from the beginning to be a support to Tim and thereby make up for what he didn’t do before. He didn't want to fail Tim the way he failed Jason.
Tim, meanwhile, was very eager to please, soaking up the attention like a plant starved for water and sunshine.
This made the fallout of Bruce’s ‘death’ all the more difficult. Tim truly trusted Dick. He thought Dick would listen to him, help him, believe in him when it counted. Tim knows logically that Dick did the best he could in that situation.
Tim was still hurt anyway. And even all these years later, he doesn’t know how to stop being hurt.
Tim tries to ignore his personal feelings, but despite his best efforts something in him can’t seem to relax around Dick. His brain seems to think he’s been thrown into the middle of a fight every time Dick so much as looks at him, his fight or flight instinct rearing its ugly head no matter how many times he tells himself he’s fine.
It leaves every attempted conversation between them feeling awkward and forced. Tim knows it isn’t fair to Dick, who can’t remember their history but clearly can sense some sort of tension growing between them.
And Tim can tell it stresses Damian out.
He needs to get himself together.
Tim swallows, refocusing himself on the present. “There were…certain things that happened between us before that we never really addressed,” he says honestly.
“Do you want to address them?”
“Not particularly,” he clips. “And it’s not like it matters anyway…not when he doesn’t even know.”
“And when he does?”
Tim ponders that, mind flashing to the year or so after he returned with Bruce but before he set time back. Tim’s relationship with Dick was different after that, stifled and uncertain. They never talked about it and Tim didn’t think they ever would. There wasn’t all that much to say. What happened, happened. They were still brothers, of course, but Tim found himself spending far more time with Jason and he and Dick just…never talked about it.
“...I don’t know.”
Dinah hums, making some sort of note on her pad of paper.
“And the others?” she asks, continuing the conversation.
Tim spends the remainder of the appointment telling Dinah about the family and how his various relationships with them have been progressing.
Hanging out with Jason isn’t so bad. He likes to join Tim in the library or the sitting room. They mostly exist in silence with the occasional question about what the other is reading (they still won’t let Tim anywhere near a computer). Besides the occasional grimace or frown Jason makes when he thinks Tim isn’t looking, their interactions are all around easy. They don’t exactly interact like they did before, but then again none of them do.
Spending time with Steph would be fine if it weren’t so obvious Tim is a stranger to her. Steph is naturally charismatic, not sunshine and rainbows like Dick can be when he’s trying really hard, but earnest and authentic. Being with her isn’t bad but it is…hard. It makes Tim miss their former friendship, even with all its baggage.
Through all their trials together and apart, the two of them cared for one another even when it seemed nobody else did—and they kept caring even after hurting each other. That kind of friendship and loyalty won’t be easily recreated, even if Steph is trying to be that friend again. It’s a bit better when Cass is present, aware of where they used to stand and how that affects Tim in the moment.
Tim is glad the two of them are still close at least, maybe even closer now than they were before. They’re good for each other.
He hasn’t seen all that much of Barbara, though that’s to be expected. Oracle operates best from her tower, only occasionally visiting with the family at the Manor from time to time. When they do see one another, they’re both polite and pleasant, but they don’t really have the time for more than that. Tim never viewed Barbara as a sister per say, but she was a mentor to him when he first became Robin and taught him most of her methods once she became Oracle. He’s always found her a dependable presence and one he thinks he’ll seek out more once Bruce lets him out of the house.
Duke has always been more easy going in comparison to the others. Tim prefers spending time with him over almost any of the others sans Damian and Cass, but Tim can tell he’s always a bit on edge, like he doesn’t quite know where and how to step around Tim. It’s a sentiment the whole family seems to share in one way or another, and the longer it goes on the more it makes Tim want to pull his hair out.
Duke is back in school now too with Damian, having just started his senior year. Tim would hate to ruin that experience for him in any way, so he has mostly kept his distance unless Duke initiates.
Interacting with Bruce might be the most difficult of all.
Bruce treats Tim like any other new adoption—patient, empathetic and understanding despite how he’s floundering to understand Tim on any sort of level.
It sets Tim's teeth on edge.
Tim never had that sort of relationship with Bruce, at least not in the beginning. Tim's role was first and foremost Robin, Batman’s partner. Bruce wasn't ready for another son, so Tim never expected to be treated like one, (even if he wished for it deep down). As the years passed, they certainly grew closer and came to trust and respect each other in a way Tim isn’t sure the others ever did. They had an understanding. Bruce could trust Tim to handle himself with maturity in the field. Tim understood personal issues came second to the mission, a lesson Tim took time to learn, but he did learn it eventually.
Bruce’s regard is something Tim worked hard to gain, gave his literal blood, sweat, and tears for it. To have it so easily given now?
Tim has a hard time trusting that.
There are moments he thinks it isn’t so bad, that maybe he could get used to this kinder, softer side of Bruce, but then he remembers the possibility of the memories coming back again and…Tim just can’t. He can’t allow himself to get used to this only for things to go back to how they were.
He doesn’t tell Dinah any of that though.
“Bruce is doing great,” he says instead. “I know I’m not the only one going through an adjustment, it’s a difficult situation for everybody. Acclimating will just take time.”
Dinah stares at him consideringly. “You’re a very smart man, Tim. You seem to have all the right answers,” she states, sounding almost regretful. “Do you actually believe any of them?”
Tim sighs, shoulders slumping forward.
“I try to.”
They talk for about an hour in all, Dinah just getting a sense for his current state and the general dynamics of the Manor from his point of view. Tim is sure she already knows some of what is happening from Jason or Damian, who meet with her every other week currently. It's standard procedure for a therapist working within the same family to avoid favoring the bias of one family member over another.
Tim guides Dinah out of the blue sitting room and into the main study where Bruce is waiting to take her down to the Bat Cave to zeta back to the Watchtower (Tim is still barred from entering). At this point Tim’s starting to think it's just a way for them to talk about him behind his back without him overhearing, though he can’t prove it.
“Thanks for seeing him on short notice, Dinah,” Bruce says gratefully.
Dinah smiles, “For your family? Anytime.”
B’s lips twitch upwards. “Would you mind if I ran some JL business by you before you go?”
She smirks teasingly, “Do you ever stop working, Bruce?”
“Of course not, I’d get bored,” Bruce deadpans.
Dinah shakes her head fondly, turning back towards Tim. “I’ll see you next week, Tim,” she says kindly.
“Dinner is almost ready, Tim,” Bruce tells him. “Tell Alfred and the others to start without me.”
“K,” Tim agrees, heaving a heavy sigh as he watches them step back through the grandfather clock and out of sight. He slumps his head down, slowly rolling out the tension that's been building in his neck.
He turns away and heads for the dining room, trying his hardest not to be absorbed in his anxieties. He believes Dinah when she tells him his secrets are safe with her…but that doesn't stop him from worrying.
Tim makes his way through the twists and turns of the Manor effortlessly, barely even thinking about it before he arrives at the family dining room.
Dick, Steph, Duke and Damian are already seated while Cass and Jason help Alfred set the rest of the table. ‘Official’ family dinners happen every Friday, but ever since Tim’s been allowed out of bed, it’s been happening more like a few times a week. Tim honestly isn’t sure which way he’d prefer it.
“There he is,” Duke spots him first.
Tim nods to them in greeting, and heads for his seat, quickly dodging Jason’s attempt to ruffle his hair.
Jason scoffs, “Slippery.”
“Ponderous,” Tim throws back.
Jason barks out a loud laugh, “Its nice having someone else in the house with a fucking vocabulary.”
“One would think you’d use yours a bit better,” Alfred admonishes.
Jason winces, “Sorry, Alfie.”
Alfred just hums wrly.
“Bruce said to start without him,” Tim says as he snags his newly designated seat beside Damian. He nods to Damian slightly, “How was school?” he asks, eager to start an easy conversation before someone tries to start one with him.
Damian gives him a look from the side of his eye like he knows what Tim is doing but answers nonetheless, “Fine,” he says with a small shrug. “We’re finally done with the pointless syllabus days. We’re actually getting into the material now.”
Tim smirks, hearing the dry tone in his voice, “Nothing you don’t already know though, huh?”
A smirk tugs at Damian’s lips, “Perhaps.”
Tim chuckles softly.
Alfred brings in the rest of the food and the family starts to dig without much ceremony.
“Are you doing any painting yet?” Cass asks Damian, joining their conversation as she sits.
Damian shakes his head, “She’s having us do graphite and charcoal the next few weeks.”
“I’ve always liked your charcoals,” Tim nods to himself.
Damian grunts in acknowledgment, “I work better in straight value. Color has been more challenging than I anticipated. It’s…” he trails off, struggling for the word.
“Chaotic?” Tim poses.
“Vexing,” Damian corrects. Tim huffs.
“Pass the salt, would you Jay?” Dick speaks up.
“Get your own damn salt,” Jason scoffs, actually going out of his way to move the salt further from Dick’s grasp. Dick clicks his tongue at him in annoyance.
“Jay, could you please pass the salt?" Duke asks the next second.
“Course, Narrows.” Jay nods, passing it over.
Dick glares. Duke smiles entirely too innocently.
Tim just watches the interaction with a small smile.
Damian rolls his eyes next to him. “They’re utterly ridiculous,” he mutters conspiringly in League dialect. Excluding Bruce, Damian and Tim are (for now) the only siblings who speak it. They never utilized the fact in the past (Damian didn’t even know Tim knew it) but it’s kinda fun to do so now.
Tim hums, amused. “They’re your brothers.”
Damian gives him a look. “Our brothers,” he corrects.
Tim swallows, and simply gives a conceding nod, not necessarily disagreeing but neither enthusiastically agreeing. It’s still difficult for him to let go of years of conditioning denying the fact.
“Don’t start with that,” Steph points her fork at them accusingly at their brief conversation. “Speak words we all understand.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Is this better?” Tim snarks back in French.
“Yes, thank you,” she responds in the same language.
Tim rolls his eyes good-naturedly as he continues to push his food around his plate. He hasn’t been particularly hungry as of late, but Leslie instructed him to start eating more to support the last stage of his recovery.
A small plate suddenly appears next to him with a simple piece of buttered toast with a side of raspberry jam. Tim’s lips twitch upwards as he gives Alfred a thankful nod. It hasn’t taken the butler long to start understanding what Tim will and won’t eat when his appetite is low, though Tim has never said anything about it. He isn't sure if it's just part of Alfred’s near omniscient senses or if it could possibly be a sign of his memories returning.
Tim tries not to get his hopes up for the latter.
“How many languages do you speak anyway, Tim?” Dick asks conversationally as Tim tears off a small piece of bread.
Tim shrugs a shoulder, “A few.”
Jason raises an eyebrow, “Just a few?” he presses.
“Yep,” Tim clips stubbornly, quickly filling his mouth.
Damian kicks him under the table. Tim glances over briefly, meeting his disapproving gaze.
“Why don’t you just tell them?” Damian asks again in the League dialect.
Tim shrugs as he swallows. “It isn’t their business.”
“They’re your family.”
Tim doesn’t respond.
Damian’s glare intensifies. “I thought you’d moved past this.”
How am I supposed to move past anything when they’re all stuck like this? Tim thinks to himself but bites back at the last second. And a good thing too as Bruce strolls in just then.
“Good of you to join us, Master Bruce,” Alfred says dryly as he fills his glass with water.
“Hn,” Bruce just grunts. “Thank you Alfred.”
Tim ignores the eyes he can feel on him, steadfastly staring down at his food instead. There's a subtle tension in the air, just slightly uncomfortable and Tim hates it. He hates how his presence has already affected the family dynamic and clearly not for the better.
After a minute or two of silence, Bruce finally speaks. “So Tim,” he starts.
Here we go, Tim braces himself.
“How was your conversation with Dinah?”
“Fine,” Tim answers, aiming for causal.
Bruce nods, “I’m glad. Dinah told me she’s excited to get to know you.”
Tim just hums slightly.
“I didn’t ask before but, have you ever tried therapy in the past?”
Tim grits his teeth slightly. He can feel Damian side-eyeing him curiously but Tim seeks out Cass’s eyes instead. He finds her glaring daggers at Bruce, expression all but screaming back off.
Bruce seems to feel the intensity aimed at him and meets Cass’s scowl with a barely there wince.
“Of course, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he amends quickly.
That actually makes Tim smile just slightly, tension dropping from his shoulders. For as weird as it is, he does appreciate Bruce’s effort.
Tim swallows, gearing himself up. “I did for a bit,” he admits. “But it’s been…a while. I think working with Dinah will be more helpful. It’s nice not having to hide anything from her about, well, my night job.”
Cass snorts.
Dick frowns slightly, “You didn’t work with Dinah last time?”
Tim just shakes his head, not offering a further explanation. Bruce actually takes the hint for once and doesn’t pry.
“Well, I’m proud of you for trying. It’s not exactly an easy thing for any of us, but I think it’ll be good for you.”
Tim just nods again, fighting down a completely unnecessary blush. God, since when is Bruce this supportive? Weird. So weird.
Bruce clears his throat. “I had a talk with Lucius earlier,” he says haltingly, like he doesn’t want to bring it up at all.
Tim perks up immediately. They’ve quite literally cut him off from any sort of internet access. Tim could totally hack into something if he really wanted to but he’s been trying to earn back some trust after breaking into the batcomputer before. Bruce let it go way easier then Tim would’ve expected, but he knows better than to push his luck. He’s still, in effect, a stranger here and he knows full well that trust is earned in this house.
This means his only knowledge about the going ons of his company have come from sporadic updates from Damian and Bruce, and usually only at his request.
“Oh?” Tim probes excitedly.
Bruce nods, his face a bit grave. “Tam has been keeping him updated since coming back and… well. She’s expressed some…concerns about some recent decisions of the board. Apparently there's one member in particular who's been leading some hostile moves.”
Tim frowns deeply, “Like what?”
“Moving around funding mostly, cutting some of DI’s smaller charitable programs in a bid to ‘reduce costs’.”
Tim curses. There’s only one person on the board with that much sway and that much audacity to try that sort of thing while Tim is out of commission.
Damian looks over at Tim grimly. “Saxton?”
Tim nods with a heavy sigh.
“Who is this?” Steph interjects.
“A greedy imbecile," Damian answers. “I still don’t understand why you keep him on the board,” he says semi accusingly towards Tim.
Tim rolls his eyes, “His pockets are too deep and his influence too wide to make an enemy of him.”
“Making him an enemy is better than letting him run your company into the ground,” Damian insists.
“I can handle Norman,” he grits. “He’s only dangerous when he gets these bursts of ambition. If I was there I could keep him in check.”
Bruce sighs, “Tam told Lucius the same thing…”
Tim sits up straighter. He didn’t expect Bruce would let him go back to work for another week at least. They agreed on a month. “Are you saying…?”
“I don’t like it,” he states firmly. “But you're moving around fine, your recovery is going as well as can be expected. And it’s not like I’m letting out on the streets.” Bruce says it like he’s still trying to convince himself.
He makes eye contact with Tim, “I know you're an adult Tim. I’m not your keeper. I appreciate you listening to Leslie and Alfred—taking your recovery seriously.” He hesitates. “If you promise to be careful, keep on your meds and your diet…you can go back to work on Monday.”
A slow and surprised smile pulls at Tim’s face, “Really?”
Bruce smiles back in response, a happy glee in his eye. Tim realizes this is probably the happiest Bruce has seen him yet. “Yes.”
Tim beams. “Thank you, B.”
Damian looks between them with a skeptical glare, “I think you’re highly overestimating Drake’s ability to take of himself, father.”
Tim shuts his eyes, “Damian, I swear to god-”
“He’s tricked you with his suspiciously good behavior,” Damian insists. “As soon as he’s out of our sight again, he’ll go back to his old bad habits which could rival yours.”
Jason whistles lowly, “And that’s saying something.”
To Tim’s horror, Bruce actually looks a bit perturbed at that. He looks to Cass for guidance who just shrugs as if to say, it could go either way.
“Oh for God's sake,” Tim mutters. “I’ll remind you all that this is not the first time I’ve lost a spleen. I know how to take care of it.”
“You mean the missing spleen you told nobody about?” Damian mutters bitterly.
Tim rolls his eyes, “Let it go, Dami.”
Damian’s eyes flare and he opens his mouth, probably about to rip into Tim, but Alfred interjects.
“Master Bruce is quite right,” he says firmly. “Timothy’s recovery has gone as well as can be expected. As long as he doesn’t strain himself and takes his medications, there is no reason why he shouldn’t return where he is needed.”
Damian grits his teeth, a severely disgruntled look still on his face. Then his expression turns pondering, as if considering something quite seriously. After a few seconds his face clears.
“Fine,” he bites.
Tim narrows his eyes suspiciously, wondering what the little demon is planning for him to let it go so easily.
“Then it’s settled,” Bruce says, sounding confident again. “You can go back in on Monday.”
Tim smiles. It’s Thursday currently, meaning he’ll have at least a few days to catch up on everything and make a solid plan before going back physically into the office.
“Does this mean I can get my laptop from Drake manor?” Tim presses.
Bruce purses his lips just slightly in clear hesitancy.
“I’ll have to get my bearings before actually going back,” he explains as another idea pops into his head. “Or you could just let me do my work on the batcomputer. I can get into my servers from there.”
Bruce just stares at him for a long moment, an amused glint in his eye, like he knows what Tim is doing. Finally, he huffs a soft laugh making eye contact with Alfred across the room.
“Give an inch, he takes a mile, this one,” he mutters conspiringly.
“Indeed, sir.” Alfred responds with a look Tim can only describe as reluctantly fond.
Bruce sighs, “You and Cass can go to Drake Manor tomorrow for your laptop...And you can have access to the cave-” Tim smiles wide. “-with conditions,” he insists.
Tim nods, expecting as much.
Bruce holds up a finger. “Nothing physical until Leslie clears you,” he lists, raising a second finger. “And no erasing footage or records. If Barbara finds you tampering again, your clearance will be revoked.”
Tim just barely stops himself from rolling his eyes again. “You’re not gonna let that go, are you-?”
“Are you gonna tell me what you did that night?”
Tim cocks his head as if to think about it, “No, I don’t think I will.”
Bruce huffs, “Then no. I’m not.”
Tim can’t help but smirk again. This conversation is far more in the territory of the kinds of conversations Tim is used to having with Bruce. He prefers it this way, even if he disagrees—maybe because he disagrees.
“Fine,” he acquiesces.
Damian scoffs beside him. “This is a bad idea, father,” he warns.
Tim throws him a murderous look. Damian meets his gaze undaunted.
Bruce hums, “I’ll guess we’ll just have to see.”
They finish dinner in good spirits after that. Tim has to admit the awkwardness has been getting less and less prevalent every day as they all continue to get used to Tim and Tim to them.
As the others leave to start preparing for patrol, Tim takes his still mostly full plate of food back to the kitchen to put away for later. It’s rare for them to keep leftovers at all since Alfred always makes just the right amount (the only exception being when one of them doesn’t eat what they should).
Tim is not one to waste food, of course, so he transfers the leftover roasted chicken and vegetables into a tupperware container for lunch tomorrow.
Tim stands there at the counter for a while, staring down at the freshly packaged food.
Alfred used to make this particular meal all the time in Tim’s early years as Robin. It was difficult for Alfred to cook in his grief after Jason’s death. He alternated between the same 5 or so recipes for the entirety of that first year—meals he could make easily that had the necessary nutrition for both Bruce and Tim. It was the best he could do at the time physically as the grief worked through him just as intensely as it did in Bruce.
Alfred ended up teaching Tim those recipes, and to this day they’re the only meals he can make for himself with any sort of consistency. Tim knows them well, down to the exact seasonings. He also knows the logical reasons Alfred selected every ingredient, each contributing to the most optimal yet simple meal—the best he could do at the time for his pseudo son and…Tim.
These meals weren’t something Alfred made before Jason’s death.
He had no reason to.
He has no reason to make them now.
Alfred appears in the kitchen just then, taking the remaining dishes to the sink to wash. Tim approaches him slowly.
“Can I dry?” he asks softly.
Alfred turns a soft, pleased smile onto him. “If you like,” he allows.
They work together in silence for a while, Alfred scrubbing each plate, pan, and utensil while Tim drys and puts the dishes away. For the most part, Tim knows where everything goes, only hitting a slight hiccup when the pot lids aren’t where he remembers them being stored.
“Under the stove,” Alfred instructs instead.
Tim just swallows and nods, trying not to project his sudden unease. He finds the appropriate spot quickly enough. It’s not a big deal. Alfred could have switched things around for any number of reasons. It’s a small thing. It doesn’t matter.
It doesn’t matter.
As Tim completes his side of the job, he watches distantly as Alfred finishes wiping down the sink, fighting against another bout of numbness the whole while. As he finishes, Alfred straightens and turns around, meeting Tim’s eye. “Thank you for your help,” he says.
“Of course,” Tim responds. “If you…if you ever need help with cooking….I’m not the most skilled but I know the basics.”
Alfred smiles sadly, “Basics I taught you, I imagine.”
Tim gives a sheepish nod, staring blankly down at his shoes while fidgeting his feet. He tries but can’t quite keep the emotions coursing through him at bay without turning them off completely—the melancholy suddenly hitting him particularly strong.
He probably looks like a complete mess.
Alfred moves suddenly, catching Tim’s attention as he raises a hand up to his own forehead, a flash of pain in his eyes.
Tim frowns, “Are you alright?”
“Just a slight headache,” Alfred dismisses easily. “I might go to bed a bit early tonight.”
Tim is suddenly struck by how old Alfred looks, older than Tim ever knew him to be, if only by a year or so.
Tim nods vigorously, “Of course. I can go ahead and clean my own wounds tonight now that I’m allowed back in the cave.”
His wounds are mostly healed now, but Alfred has still been extra cautious with his lack of spleen at play.
Alfred narrows his eyes, “As long as you get Cass to help you.”
Tim huffs, but nods at the compromise. “Deal.”
Alfred hums a pleased sound, patting Tim on the shoulder kindly as he exits the kitchen.
Tim looks down at his shoulder with a slight smile. Alfred isn’t very touchy with any of them, except when he knows they need it. In retrospect, Tim knows he was a severely touched-starved child when he first came to the Manor. Alfred wouldn’t hug him that often, but gentle subtle touches like these were always commonplace between them.
Tim swallows hard, trying to stamp down the pull of butterflies in his stomach as he can’t help but hope.
Tim gets up fairly early the next morning, long before anyone on patrol last night would be up. He makes his way down to the kitchen, still in his pajamas to start on a fresh pot of coffee. He’s pretty excited for the day now that he finally has something to do other than just existing in the Manor. He plans to be down in the batcave for the better part of the day getting re-acquainted with everything.
Duke joins Tim in the kitchen a few minutes later, already dressed and ready for school.
“Morning,” he greets as he starts preparing his breakfast, scrambled eggs by the looks of it.
“Morning,” Tim responds easily.
They don’t attempt to make conversation, both of them just going through their morning routines side by side.
“Coffee?” Tim asks as he pulls down two mugs from the cabinet. From the variety of themes the Waynes own, Tim picks a red mug with the yellow flash symbol on it for Duke and a black mug with a red House of El sigil for himself.
“Sure,” Duke says from behind him. “One cream-”
“2 sugars,” Tim finishes.
He hears Duke pause for a split second before letting out a soft laugh. “You got an eidetic memory or something, dude?”
“Or something,” Tim smirks.
He takes both their coffees to the table, placing Duke’s mug across from where Tim sits himself. Duke joins him a second later, a plate of eggs in each hand.
“Interesting choice,” Duke smirks with a knowing look in his eye, gaze locked on Tim’s coffee.
Tim only then realizes that he very specifically chose Superboy’s colors of all things.
“Uhh-”
“But I doubt coffee is on the diet?” he blessedly moves on with a good imitation of one of Alfred’s signature eyebrows.
Tim shrugs, “Not technically but I’m only having a cup.”
“Not on an empty stomach you’re not,” Duke mutters as he places the second plate of eggs down in front of Tim.
Tim smiles genuinely, “Thank you, Duke.”
Duke nods easily as he takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes widen. “No, thank you. What the hell did you do to this coffee?”
Tim smirks, “Only good things.”
Duke takes another sip, his eyes closed this time in a blissed out expression. “You have to teach me how you did that.”
“Ha, anytime.”
They dig into their food in a comfortable silence for the next few minutes. Damian comes down soon enough, also dressed for the school day. He looks around with a furrowed brow.
“Have either of you seen Alfred?” he asks.
Tim frowns, realizing he hasn’t. He shakes his head no along with Duke and checks the time. 7:03am. Normally Damian and Alfred leave at 7am sharp to walk Ace and Titus around the grounds before Damian leaves for school. The Butler is rarely if ever late for anything.
“He said he wasn’t feeling well last night,” Tim recalls. “Maybe he’s come down with something.”
Damian cocks his head skeptically, probably thinking the same thing as Tim. When has illness ever stopped Alfred?
Tim swallows. “Why don’t you go ahead and take the dogs,” he suggests to Damian. “I’ll go check on him.”
Duke squints, “The guy without a spleen is going to check on someone with a potential cold?”
Damian scoffs, "Absolutely not. Watch him, Thomas, I’ll be back in a moment.”
Tim rolls his eyes as Damian turns on his heel and goes. Duke just shakes his head good-naturedly, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
A minute or so passes and Damian still doesn't return. Tim is about ready to follow Damian himself when he hears two sets of footsteps approaching.
He turns to face the door just as a frazzled and wide eyed Alfred hurries in. He stops and just stares at Tim for a long moment, his expression going through so many emotions, Tim can hardly keep track. Damian stands just behind Alfred's left shoulder, looking between Alfred and Tim rapidly with both anticipation and apprehension in his bearing.
Tim looks back to Alfred, his mind whirling and heart beating too fast. He stands slowly on shaky legs.
“Alfred?” he manages.
Alfred's expression breaks open then, vulnerable and sad yet somehow so happy.
“Oh, my boy,” he whispers, rushing forward.
Tim freezes as Alfred embraces him tight. He can’t process the emotions rushing through him, his entire body tingling with shock. His arms eventually rise of their own accord, wrapping firmly around Alfred with the same fierceness.
Tears well up in his eyes unbidden. Tim just blinks them away, carefully resisting the urge to sob in relief at the return of his pseudo grandfather.