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It's no secret when it comes to a witch's familiar form, people were pretty open about it. Except for the Drakes. They were pretty tight-knit when it came to their other forms. While there were a few that knew of Janet and Jack's other forms, Janet was a mountain lion while Jack was a dingo. No one has ever seen Tim's form. Janet had forbid him from showing anyone. He only did it in the safety of his home where no one else could see.
His mother had said once that if knowledge of what he was came to light, he would bring shame to the Drake name.
But that was years ago, before his parents had died while visiting Haiti. Now he managed a small craft store in Gotham. Ranging anywhere from simple charms--be it for protection or luck--to much more detailed spells and anything that can cause lasting damage.
Tim was moving around small vials of liquid, when the bell to the door chimed, letting him know someone had entered. He looked up, spotted one of the Wayne brothers that often wandered in for no reason. He never bought anything and was never there long.
It was Jason, the middle brother. The Wayne's were higher up in the witching world, like the Drake's were, but unlike the Drake's they never fell. They had remained firm under the hand of their father, Bruce Wayne. Or, if Tim had to weather an actual guess, he believed it was their butler, Alfred, who kept them all in line.
They were all strong, carnivorous animals too. The oldest brother, Dick, was a wolf. Jason was a tiger, and Damian was a badger. They had a sister, Cassandra--who Tim liked talking to whenever she visited Gotham--who was currently in Hong Kong; she was a panther. Even Bruce was a bear. Tim envied them so much. He didn't get along with Damian all that much, the younger man often tried to fight him whenever their eyes met.
Tim continued to watch as Jason did what he always did, just looking around, picking things up and looking at them. He would be blind and an idiot to say that Jason wasn't attractive. Another thing that Tim was green with envy about. While Jason was attractive and had that air of pure wild around him, Tim held himself with elegance, something that came with his other form. Sure he had some defining traits that other found pleasing, but sometimes it wasn't enough.
Sometimes when he saw the man, he just wanted to...
Just wanted to grab him by his ridiculously nice looking hair and kiss him. But no, he won't do that because everyone already thought he was a strange one. And there was no one for him to know if Jason wouldn't just stare at him in horror and run away never to return to his shop again. No, he can't have that. So Tim did want he does best and repress his feelings.
He schooled his face and looked away from Jason, going towards the counter to retreat into the back until someone came in actually wanting to buy something. It wasn't like he was afraid of anything being stolen. Tim had alarms set up and spells in place to keep anyone form leaving the store if they had anything unpaid for on their person.
Before he could retreat to safety though, his name was called out. Tim turned his head, looking around him, like there might have been someone else with his name there.
"Yeah, you, there's no one else here but us you know."
Tim looked at Jason with that deer in headlights look.
"Jesus, why do you always look like I'm going to attack you?"
He opened and closed his mouth, words failing to spill out. His cheeks became lightly tinted. This was the first time that Jason had actually spoken to him since he started coming in. So if he had a little freak out in his head, well no one would know.
"Never mind, do you have any crow feet?"
Tim nodded dumbly, moving to the side, "On the far wall next to the cow hooves."
He watched Jason turn and go to where he was instructed, and moved himself over to the counter to check the other man out. He lifted a hand to push his hair out of his face, wondering if he could just get it cut shorter. Tim had wanted to grow it out when he was younger, but his mother didn't allow it. But hey, she wasn't here now, his parents ashes were upstairs in his loft above the shop, on top of a mantle shaking around disapprovingly when he did something they didn't like. Tim has learned to ignore it, or even snap back at times. Even after death his parents still tried to force him into things, how does that even happen.
Tim spaced out and didn't realize it until a hand was in his face snapping for his attention.
"Hello, earth to Tim." Jason grouched, placing the bundle of crow feet on the counter.
"Shit, sorry," Tim started, stuttering out the amount and taking Jason's payment. "So, what are you making with these?"
There were only so many potions these days made with crows feet that Tim knew of by heart, and he was always so curious with what his customers did with them. Usually they were delighted to tell him and it got him his daily dose of human interaction.
Jason only raised a brow and frowned, and Tim wanted to immediately tell him he didn't have to say, oh god, please don't hate me.
Only the man smirked and winked at him, "An endurance potion."
Okay, yeah, his brain was short circuited now. The many imaged that just flew through his mind broke him, his face felt really hot now, too. Jason grabbed his items.
"Well gotta run. Later, birdbrain." And with that he left.
It took a couple of moments for Tim's brain to reboot and seconds later actually caught what Jason had said.
'Later, birdbrain.'
Birdbrain...
Bird.
Holy shit, holy shit. Did he know?
-----
Once he was able to make his feet move, Tim had locked the front door, flip the sign to 'be back at 4:30' and ran up to his loft, closing the door with a little more force then necessary. He didn't pause though, eyes moving all over the room. Was there some sort of hole in his spell? How did Jason find out? What did he think? Tim zoomed around the room, running fingers over the many charms he had hung around to keep him pretty safe.
Was he going to have to abandon ship? Leave Gotham behind? He didn't know if he could do that. He had lived here all his life and the thought of leaving made his stomach churn.
Tim swears he can hear his mother cackling at him from the other side of the room, eyes glaring at the still urn that sat on the mantle. "I know what you think, you don't have to be like that."
He was going to be the laughing stock of the city now. There were only a few none carnivorous animals in Gotham, but they were well protected by others. And then there's Tim, who no one knows about. Well Jason knew? Was he going to tell his family? Oh god Tim did not need this kind of stress.
Tim pulled on his hair, making a sound similar to a dying animal. No he did not need this. He's pretty sure everyone thought he was this mysterious, bad ass animal, but it couldn't be any farther from the truth. He was going to have to do something about this. Maybe he will have to leave Gotham behind if this got too far out of hand. At the moment there was no one knocking down his door, so hopefully will wait a while and revel in the hysterics before telling the masses.
But Tim wasn't that lucky. "Fuck, fuck." He was going to have to do something about this. He was going to have to, and he didn't want to. Sending his parent's ashes a scathing look, he muttered to himself, "This is all your fault."
His mother's urn rattled some.
So he had to think of ways to get Jason not to call up Vicki Vale and tell her his secret. Tim bolted back downstairs, going into the back room and pulling out one his his many maps of Gotham. There were probably better ways of tracking someone down, like scrying, but he wanted to be fast. Tim grabbed a bowl and tossed in a few items, then set the contents of the bowl on fire with a flick of his wrist--he always thought his affinity would be with water, but it seemed he was pretty good with most of the elements.
Once the fire was burning brighter and slightly a more blue tint, he scooped his hand in, cradling the fire in his hand and slowly lining the paper with it. The fire didn't burn until he muttered words under his breathe, and suddenly to fire spread through the paper, until a single piece remained.
He swung his hand over the flame against, smothering it and snatching up the remaining piece. Brows furrowed as he stared at it for a moment, trying to figure out what was at the location.
Oh! A small café, that he can't seem remember the name of.
Tim went back into the main room, making sure his wallet was in his pocket and grabbed his keys. He changed the time of return to 6 pm, and locked up.
----
Tim found the café, and there Jason was, sitting at a table outside with two other people. He was ducked behind a dumpster across the street. His nerves were getting to him again, he couldn't do this. He couldn't approach Jason when his friends were there. Tim was about to turn and head back to the shop--he had some product to put out--when he noticed the two people get up and leave.
Okay, this was his chance. He could do this. Get this over with, Timothy Jackson Drake, he could hear his mother hissing at him in the back of his head. Tim steeled himself and darted across the street right as Jason was standing up. The man noticed him and raised a brow.
"What do you want?"
"What?"
"What do you want, not to tell?" Tim hissed under his breath, staring up at Jason.
"Okay stop right there. What are you talking about? Not to tell? What is this cryptic bullshit?"
The sound Tim made sounded like a dying animal--he seemed to be good at that--and he pinched the bridge of his nose. "You know. You know what I am. What do I have to do to make you not tell everyone?" It felt like he was talking to a child.
There was still the mixed look of confusion and anger on Jason's face still. Oh my god, it was kind of adorable really.
"Okay I'm still not getting it. I don't know what you are?" Jason waved his hands some.
"Don't play dumb, yes you do. You called me," he paused looking around and leaned in further. "You called me birdbrain."
"Yeah, I called you that because you were spacing out? Wait, are you trying to say that you're a bird?" Jason raised a brow at him.
Tim flailed, "What, What!? No, of course I'm not a bird, that's just silly." He watched some people walk by, looking at him like he finally lost it. Maybe he had, maybe it was already gone. He tucked his hands under his arms and glared back at Jason. "Stop that."
"I'm not doing anything, babybird," Jason teased. Tim choked on air and looked like he was about to reach over and strangle the man. "Don't say that!"
"Come on, you can trust me, what are you?"
"I don't know what you're talking about Jason!" Tim screeched as he turned tail and ran.
-----
A couple days later Tim was minding his own business, which sometimes he's good at, other times not so much. He definitely got that from his mother. She liked to know what everyone was up to because if it benefited her, then she was all for it, but if not then she stuck her nose up.
So yeah, he was minding his own business at the moment, reorganizing some new items he recently got in that he just now got around to unpacking. When he turned at the sound of the bell at the door, his eyes widened some as he watched Jason walk in.
"So I think we need to talk about what happened at the café the other day, Tim," Jason said in lieu of a greeting. Tim, meanwhile, was trying his best to sink into the floor, "What? I don't know what you're talking about I don't go outside," he replied, like the very thought of him going outside was the most disgusting thing he's heard.
"Can you stop playing dumb for five seconds?" Jason asked, leaning against a wall beside him. "Either that, or stop acting like I'm dumb."
Tim made an affronted noise, "I don't think you're dumb." He paused, and Jason raised an eyebrow, showing how unimpressed he was. It made Tim's skin crawl some.
And he caved, letting out a loud, dramatic sigh. "Fine, but I'm not talking about it here." Tim made his way to the door and locked it, turning the sign to closed. That was one of the perks of having your own store, you can make your own open hours and close whenever you want for however long.
Tim trailed back slowly, stopping by Jason and nodding towards the door that lead up to his loft. "Well come on."
"You sound like you're walking death's row," Jason mused, smirking as he followed.
"Might as well be," Tim replied, sullen. This was making him so anxious.
When they got to the top of the stairs, he opened the next door and ushered Jason in, closing it behind him.
His loft wasn't much to look at, just very simple. Built in shelf in the wall that housed rows upon rows of books that Jason looked like he wanted to touch. A bed in the corner, black out curtains over the large windows. A spacious kitchen against the wall with an island. The only source of light at the moment, other than the light fixtures, was a window in the kitchen. There was a door that lead off into the bathroom.
"Looks bigger on the inside," Jason commented, looking around. Tim rolled his eyes, but he did agree. It looked a lot smaller from the outside of the building. One wouldn't believe how much room he actually had.
"So a bird, huh?" Jason hummed, messing with some plants Tim had scattered throughout the loft. Tim prided himself with his plants. He was so glad he didn't need sunlight for a majority of them. The ones that did were stationed by the window in the kitchen.
Tim made a noise, "Can you not say that? Someone might hear you."
"Will you chill the fuck down? Why are you being so pissy about this? You're just a bird, right? I know some birds."
Tim looked at Jason, brows furrowed. He knew some birds?
"You know so--"
He was cut off by an intense rattling sound from the mantle across the room. Tim shot the urn in question a look.
"Mother, will you please shut up?"
"Holy shit."
"Sorry, she just won't leave." Tim looked back at him.
"You know other..." He trailed off, like he didn't want to acknowledge that part of himself.
"Yeah. His name's Roy, he's a peafowl."
Tim chewed on the inside of his cheek, shooting his mother's ashes a somewhat stressed look. The urn rattled softly before becoming still and quiet.
"Why are you so paranoid about people finding out that you're a bird?" Jason questioned, plopping down on Tim's couch, god it was so soft!
"Because, we're the Drake's. We were known for our power, well still known for, I guess. So when people think of power, they think strong animals. Like my mother was a mountain lion, and father was a dingo. Not the most intelligent animal, but still strong. They think carnivore, not.. not--"
"Not a bird?"
Tim wrung his hands together, trying to look any where but Jason. "Mother always told me to hide what I am, that it'd bring shame to the family name."
Jason made a noise close to a growl. "Well no offense, but you're mom's stupid, and not here." They both seemed to ignore the sudden bought of rattling on the wall.
"Look, I've never shown anyone outside my mother and father my familiar form, it's probably going to take a lot for me to even begin to even think of it, okay?" Tim felt so lost, he had no one to hold his hand through this and honestly that hurt a little. The only two people who knew what he was, were dead in the ground. His old nannies never knew either.
Jason snorted, "It's not like I'm asking you to marry me, babybird, calm down. I'm in no rush, so take as long as you need." And Tim had to suddenly turn away from Jason to hide the flush that crept up his neck and face. He'll be honest, the nickname was growing on him.
-----
Jason had brought over some snacks that Alfred had made, mostly cookies and some brownies. Tim wasn't a big sweets fan, but even he couldn't pass up either dessert. They honestly tasted like heaven to him and had inhaled half of them as Jason laughed.
There was a time that Tim would have never imagined anything like this happening. Befriending one of the Wayne's that wasn't Cass, she didn't talk bad about her siblings, just that they were usually harder to get along with at first. Tim had thought that after Cass, it would have been Dick he would have tried to talk to, but of course the eldest Wayne was very outgoing and very outgoing. Practically opposite him when it came to social status. Yeah, he still had people who were long running family friends to the Drake's who came in often to see how he was doing and if he needed anything, but he would just wave them off with a smile.
Tim was about to say something ridiculous to Jason, like how he had a really attractive laugh or how he wanted to lick his face--you try ignoring Jason's attractive everything as see how just far you get--when there was a loud bang downstairs.
He became in-tuned with the shop, alarms blaring in his head now. How had he not noticed? "Shit," he hissed, his mind immediately pushing against the charms. Someone was in there, taking things. Why the hell would someone want to steal half the stuff he had? It wasn't uncommon stuff! He felt his magic push violently against the intruder as he was up and off his couch, barely taking note that Jason was right behind him.
Who ever the person was had decided to push back against him, full throttle. Oh hell no. No one messes with a Drake. Tim swung the door open that separated the shop from the stairs to his loft, low words mumbled under his breathe as he ran his hand down the wall just outside the door way. He had spells engraved in the walls of his shop to protect against this very thing. Tim should have expected it sooner. They were in Gotham.
The spell symbols started to give off an eerie glow, as did his eyes.
"Get out."
Tim feels his magic rear up, like a snake ready to strike, and for a split moment he swears he can feel his mother's proud eyes on him. 'That's my boy.' If there was one thing he was protective of, it was his space, his home.
In the end it was pretty anti-climatic, the intruder tried to strike back, but against Tim it was pointless. The person was still able to get away, even while injured, with the stuff he grabbed. It was going to be an annoying process trying to gather all those things again.
He could feel his energy drained, but didn't really pay much attention to it while he just stood there, breathing heavily.
It wasn't until he noticed Jason staring at him with wide eyes that he looked down at himself.
White, pristine feathers.
He looked back up at Jason, letting out a high trilled honk before he promptly passed out.