Archive of Our Own

Cat’s in the Cradle

Tim’s hands shake with nerves as he makes his way down the Wayne manor hall.  Alfred had let him in not too long ago, and despite the esteemed butler telling Tim he can let himself in at any time, that Tim is always welcomed here, he still feels weird just letting himself into Bruce Wayne’s home.  As if he belongs.  As if he’s family.  The logical part of him knows better, knows that he’s here to be Robin, not Bruce’s newest son.  But…But the emotional side of Tim wants more.

Thus, why Tim is currently at the door of Bruce’s study, hand raised to knock with a slightly shaky hand.  He centers himself, pushes the fear down and away like Bruce taught him, and knocks.  A familiar voice calls out, beckoning Tim inside and Tim slowly pushes the door open and shyly slides inside.

“Mr. Wayne, sorry to bother you when you’re busy.” Tim said in his most Polite voice he could, as he stood up straight and stiff in front of Bruce’s desk.

The man was working on documents for his company, something Tim knew from hearing Alfred consistently reminding Bruce, that the man had been putting off.

“I’ve told you Tim, to call me Bruce.”  The man doesn’t look up from his documents, his eyes going back and forth as he quickly reads the pages.

An adult telling you to call them by their first name was a good sign, right?

“Yes, right.  O-Of course…” Tim mentally winces as he stutters over his words.  His mother would tear his head off if she heard him tripping over his words like that.

Bruce finally signed something at the bottom of the document before setting his pen down and giving Tim his full attention.  Tim tries not to gulp; this is almost worse than Bruce not paying attention to him.

“What is it that you wanted?”  Bruce asked, his face was still rather hard for Tim to read, but he’s getting better every day.

“I was hoping I could get this upcoming Friday and Saturday off from patrol? I-I have this thing on Saturday morning, and it’s gonna be an all-day thing.  I’m not sure when I’ll be back or if I’ll be in fit shape for patrol afterwards.”

Tim, while quickly saying the little speech he rehearsed, he pulls out the flyer and unfolds it for Bruce.  The man takes it from Tim’s hands and gives it a look over.  Bruce raises an eyebrow, but that’s the only emotion that breaks through Bruce’s fortress of feelings.

“A skating competition.” Bruce doesn’t even phrase it as a question, more as a statement.  “You’re missing patrol on the weekend for this?”

While there’s no emotion in Bruce’s words, the way he says it makes Tim’s stomach twist in his body.

“I-It’s only for one day-I mean, two patrols!  I can even come in that night and do work on the Bat computer instead!”  Tim stays perfectly still, waiting for the outcome.

Bruce is silent for what feels like minutes before he finally lets out a grunt, looking back down at the stack of papers he’s yet to touch.

“Fine.”

Tim lets out a soft breath as relief coursed through him, almost making him dizzy.  The giddy feeling in him was making him bold.

“Um, Bruce.” He opens his mouth before he even thought about what he was going to say.  “So, uh, I was wondering…do you want to come with me?”

“…Tim.”

“It’s out of town, a-and a skating thing for seventeen and younger-”

“Tim.”

“So, most people wouldn’t even know who you are-”

“Tim.”

“And it’d be really cool if you-”

“Robin.”

And the Batman voice came out.  It instinctively makes Tim shut up and stand straight, waiting commands.  After all, that was what Bruce trained into him.  Bruce stares at Tim, his blue eyes sharp, making Tim feel as if he’s being pinned to the wall and about to be dissected.  He feels small, shrinking, or rather, deflating, into himself more and more as the silence grows.  Finally, Bruce sighs and turns his piercing stare away from Tim.  It’s a bit of relief, if only for a moment before the man speaks.

“Tim…We’re partners. You’re my Robin by your choice and that is all that we are.  We are not friends, we are not family, I am not your father.  It would be unprofessional for us to have any interactions or go to events together of any kind.”  Bruce’s voice is cold and detached, almost as if he’s reading some sort of lab report off, instead of shattering Tim’s hopes and dreams.

It takes a moment for Tim to swallow the sudden lump in his throat.

“R-Right.  Right, of course.  I apologize for overstepping the boundaries.  Thank you for allowing me the time off.  I’ll see you tonight for patrol.”  Tim almost feels as if he’s floating, as if he’s watching his body pilot itself and he’s just a spectator.

He waits for Bruce to say something, anything, or to even just acknowledge what he says…

But Bruce is back to his paperwork once again.

Tim closes the door behind him.  He makes his way home, not even stopping to say goodbye to Alfred and makes the long trek home.  Even though it’s usually a thirty-minute walk from his home to the Wayne manor, before Tim knows it, he’s using his key to open the front door.  He’s kicking off his shoes, dropping his backpack, and mechanically making his way up to his room.  Tim doesn’t even bother turning on the light to his room, he just makes his way to his bed and falls onto it.

Sunlight is peaking through his blinds, and it’s still a couple hours left until the sun begins to set.  So, Tim has a couple hours to…get himself together.  Tim isn’t even sure why he’s so upset.  He knew that he wasn’t wanted by Bruce.  The man never hid the fact he never wanted Tim around or to be Robin…but, he thought that maybe things were getting better.  Bruce had even told him ‘Good job’ after he had managed to solve all of the Riddler’s riddles the last case they had with the Rogue.  That was the highest praise he had ever gotten from the man, and Tim had been riding that high for nearly a month now.  Bruce doesn’t always immediately send him home after patrol is done; he lets Tim linger.  Tim basks in the presence of someone else, just happy to be in the vicinity of another human being.

Tim never realized how lonely he truly was until he was around others.  Even worse, when he’s around people who don’t want him around but only tolerate him for duty’s sake. His parents are only home a handful of days and even then, the only time they hang out with Tim is when they show him off during parties or business dinners.  Other than that, they dismiss him and act like he’s just another piece of furniture in their mausoleum of a house.  He’s not even a piece in their artifact collection.  If he was, at least then he’d be valued by them.

Batman, Bruce, whatever side or rather, all sides of Bruce Wayne, couldn’t give two shits about Tim.  He wasn’t Bruce’s son; he made that clear from day one.  Tim will never be Jason, and Tim knew that, going into this. Tim never wanted to be Jason, he just wanted to help. To make Gotham a better place and make sure Batman took the foot that was currently in the grave that would lead him to Jason, out.

He just wanted to be good, and maybe, just maybe, make someone proud of him.  Was that really so selfish of him?

Days pass, and it’s the morning of the skate competition.  It’s early, the sun is barely up, but Tim has to go soon since he’s taking the bus.  He’s mapped out the routes he needs to take and where he needs to jump from one bus line to another.  The competition is out of town, honestly not that far out of Gotham and it would be a much quicker ride if he had someone to drive him, but Tim doesn’t.  So, a long bus ride it is.

Tim doesn’t eat, despite how Bruce’s intense training about how Tim should always put fuel in his body before any kind of strenuous activity.  Tim is afraid of throwing up on the bus, and what if the bus driver kicks him off?  How is he gonna get to his skate comp. then?

So, Tim sits on a cold bus, his hands shaking with nerves and hours go by until he finally switches lines and makes his way to the skate park.  He’s early now; hardly anyone is here except for people getting the event ready.  Tim signs in and finally allows himself to relax, if only a little.  He forces himself to buy a hotdog at a vendor nearby, just so there’s something in his stomach.

Tim regrets it a couple hours later as it still continues to sit like a rock in his stomachache as announcers call his name for the youth division.  He’s at top of a vert, staring down at his kingdom, so to speak.  This park was chosen for the sole fact that the skate park has a little bit of Everything.  It has verts, it has pools, plenty of poles and rises to grind on.  Plenty of space to freestyle and street skate, but enough for someone to do big tricks on a half pipe.  It truly is a skater’s paradise.

So, Tim takes a deep breath, pushing down the fear, the worries, every little thing that is bothering him at the moment, just so he can focus on the now.  Just like jumping from a building and using his grappling hook to another.

It was like flying.

And Tim does good.  No, he does better than good; he does amazing.  He flies through tricks with ease and grace that Tim doesn’t think he had months ago.  It’s not that it’s suddenly easier, it’s that Tim is more confident.  He knows he can do this, so he does.

So, later, when he’s standing at the winner’s podium, smiling wide as he’s handed the first-place prize for the youth division, Tim can’t help but feel proud of himself.  It’s only when everyone begins to disperse, and Tim stops a moment to people watch, that he finds that happy and confident glow he had just moments ago begin to ebb away.  He watches as the second-place winner, an older teen who wore a beanie and had congratulated Tim with an honest, wide grin and hair ruffle, be hugged by family who came to watch him compete.

Envy ate away at Tim from the inside.

On the long bus ride home, Tim, despite all the happy feelings he had been feeling before, finds himself feeling empty as he lets his face squish against the cold window of the bus, watching the sun set.  Despite winning, Tim wishes he had what the runner up had.  Tim wishes he had someone here to congratulate him, to hug him and tell him what a good job he did.

Tim wishes for a lot of impossible things.  He wishes his parents loved him.  He wishes his parents, or someone, wanted him for him.  He wants to be one of those kids that falls asleep in the back seat and who’s parents lovingly and carefully pick him up and carry him to his bed.  He wants to be one of those kids whose parents come to their school events.  He wants someone to hug him and kiss. 

He just wants to be loved.

Tim cradles his trophy in his arms, hugging it tightly to his chest as if it’s a cherished stuffed animal and he’s a small child in need of comfort.  Despite this, it doesn’t give him what he wants.

The bus rolls on, into the growing night.

XxXxXx

It’s been months since Tim’s father has died and since Bruce adopted him.  Sure, Tim had pulled a con, hiding himself away from the man under the guise of a fake uncle. Tim couldn’t bare the thought of his independence taken away from himself, at least, that’s what he told himself.  Maybe a small voice whispered in the back of his mind, telling him how much he wanted to know if someone would come for it, to know that Bruce actually wanted Tim for himself…Not just as Robin.

And to Tim’s utter surprise, Bruce did.

He adopted Tim, made him his son.  And things seemed like they were getting better.  Tim was getting what he had wanted for so long: Family who cared about him.

And of course, that had to change once Tim was finally starting to feel settled.

Damian, the blood son of Bruce, an assassin and truly terror child arrived on the doorstep of the Wayne manor with a chip on his shoulder and a grudge against Tim the size of Gotham city.  It’s been months since the…chaotic first meetings and attempted murders of Damian’s towards Tim.  The teen has taken to trying to ignore the younger kid, despite how hard it is with the other’s cruel tongue and blatant hatred towards Tim.  He ignores the cruel words easily enough, though ignoring how no one does anything about it, that is much harder.

(Bruce had said they were family now, and wasn’t family supposed to protect one another?  So, why did Bruce tell Tim that he had to be the mature one.  Why did Tim get yelled and scolded at for protecting himself?  Why was he forced to apologize while Damian never did?)

Despite the heavy atmosphere in the manor for a long while, Tim was nearly floating on air.  His art show that he had been talking Bruce’s, or well, really anyone’s, ear off for the past couple of weeks was in just a couple days!  He couldn’t wait to show off his photos he took to Bruce.

“Don’t forget, it’s this Friday, at seven pm on the dot!”  Tim reminds Bruce, feeling mix of nerves and excitement.

Bruce chuckles fondly and smiles at Tim, the look of pure affection warming Tim body and soul.

“I wouldn’t miss it even if the world was ending.”  Bruce promises.

(He Promises Tim.  So, Tim holds that Promise close to his heart.  It doesn’t matter that his parents used to say the same thing and would never show up or even intend to honor the promise.  This is Bruce, this is Batman, this is his new father.  This is the man who chose him in the end, who wanted him.  This was Bruce promising.  He wouldn’t break it.)

Friday night arrives and Tim is standing in front of his portfolio of his pictures, nervously looking around for Bruce as time passes and more and more parents arrive.  His teacher talks to him about his work and he plasters on a gala smile and explains everything he did for his work.  Judges come by sometime after eight pm has hit and Bruce still hasn’t arrived.  Nervous, and suddenly fearing the worse, Tim stealthily hides from the public eye by ducking in a currently unused hallway and calling Bruce’s phone.

The phone rings for a bit, before going to voicemail.  Tim tries again, but this time, the phone goes immediately to voice mail.  Fully worried, nearly freaking out, Tim calls Alfred.

“Al, is something wrong?  I just tried to call Bruce but he’s not answering and he’s said he’d-”

“Master Bruce is fine,” Alfred’s voice reassures Tim over the phone.  “He is out with young Master Damian right now.”

Tim pauses, feeling his heart skip a beat.

“W-What?  Why?  What happened?”

“Master Damian had a rough day at school and Master Bruce wished to make him feel better and spend time some quality time together with him.”

Oh.

Oh.

Tim’s eyes begin to burn.

‘He had promised!’ a voice in Tim’s mind shouts, screaming with a long-pained wail.  It sounds like Tim as a child.  ‘He promised! He promised! He promised!!’

“Master Tim?”

“S-Sorry Alfred, guess I kinda freaked out over nothing.  I couldn’t reach him and thought something was wrong.”  Tim laughs, but its so weak and obviously fake.

He can essentially hear Alfred’s doubt over the line.

“Hey, I got to go, I’ll talk to you later.  Thanks Alfred!” Tim hangs up before the butler can call him out on his bullshit.

For a while, Tim rests his head against the wall of the school hallway.  He tells himself he shouldn’t be so upset, that things like this are the norm.  It’s only obvious that Bruce would take more time out for Damian than he ever did for Tim.  Damian is, after all, the blood son.  Bruce had promised Tim, but that’s okay!  His parents had promised Tim time and time again to be there, but they never were, so it’s! All! Good!!!

Tim pushes back the pressure behind his eyes with relative ease, as it was something he was used to doing.  Taking a deep breath, Tim pulls up his gala smile and walks back into the auditorium and towards the judges who are viewing his work.

When Tim is saying his thanks to the judges and crowd as he accepts first place award, if his eyes are duller than normal, no one in the audience can tell.

XxXxXx

Tim is tired as he blearily stares down expense reports that he, as a seventeen-year-old, really shouldn’t be forced to deal with until at least his early to mid-twenties.

He doesn’t want to do this; be CEO of such a huge company at his age.  Sure, he’s good at it, but that doesn’t mean he wants it.  He keeps waiting for Bruce to come in, talk with him and take it back and thank him for doing such a good job.

But he doesn’t.

Ever since Tim saved Bruce, brought him back out of time and space, the man retreated back to the manor.  Tim hasn’t gone back to the manor, not sure if he’s really even welcomed there, if he ever was.  He’s no longer a Wayne, having dropped it during his emancipation.

Another thing Bruce never talked to him about.  In fact, the only things the two of them have talked about how been work related stuff, and even then, it’s only been in their capes. 

(He misses Bruce.  Even if Bruce really isn’t his father.)

He’s continuously picking at his work when his phone dings from a notification.  Curiosity taking the better of him, Tim puts his pen down and picks up his phone.  It’s a twitter notification from one of the few accounts he has alerts on for; It’s Bruce’s account.  Clicking on the banner, he waits as the twitter app opens before his eyes take in what he sees and he takes a sharp breath.

Brucie Wayne

@Bruce_Wayne

“So happy to have all my children together to enjoy the rare beautiful weather in Gotham!”

There’s a picture with Bruce sitting on picnic blanket on what Tim knows must be the Wayne manor grounds.  Dick, Damian, Cass, Stephanie, and Barbara are all around him, smiling at the camera.  Bruce is smiling as he has a hand on Damian’s shoulder and an arm around Dick.  There’s a smile on Bruce’s face, real one, not a Brucie Wayne smile.

‘All my children.’

Oh.  Well…Tim knew he wasn’t a Wayne anymore, but seeing proof, seeing Bruce acknowledge it felt like a punch to the gut and having his heart ripped out of his chest at the same time.  The screen is suddenly blurry and for once, Tim can’t stop the pressure from behind his eyes from overflowing.  Tears are falling and everything seems to white out around Tim.

When he comes back to himself, he’s under his desk, curled into a ball and Tam is kneeling before him, gently holding his hands and softly talking to him with such a concerned look on her face.  Tim sobs, unable to help himself as he realizes what an embarrassing situation he’s put himself in.

“T-Tam, I’m so-, you can…I-I…” 

For once, words are lost on him.  He tries to pull his hands back, to almost retreat further under the desk, but his back is flush against the wood.  There’s no going anywhere and Tam isn’t letting go of his hands.  Instead, she starts to pull him towards her.  Unable to really stop her, he lets her pull him into her arms, hugging him.  Tim tries to pull back, for only a moment, but Tam hugs him tighter.  Unable and unwilling to really fight her, Tim melts into his friend’s embrace, sobbing onto her shoulder. 

She doesn’t shush him; she just lets him cry.  And cry is what Tim Drake does.  It’s as if the wall he was forced to keep up since the first time his parents told him they were leaving all those years ago was suddenly broken and all the tears came pouring out.  Tim isn’t sure how long he cries on her shoulder, but it’s enough to make the whole sleeve damp.  When he finally pulls back, all tears cried out, Tam hands him a box of tissues and Tim blows his nose.

“…I’m sorry you had to see that…had to experience all of that.”  Tim warbled, his voice rough from crying.

“I’m not.”  Tam said calmly.  “You obviously needed this.  And Tim?  I’m glad I could help you.”

The two of them smiled at each other, a little wobbly on Tim’s end, as Tam helped Tim to his feet and manhandled him into sitting in his chair.  Tam sets herself onto Tim’s desk, her legs kicking back and forth in the air just slightly.

“So,” She starts slowly, “Do you wanna tell me what happened?”

Tim sighs before grabbing his phone that was still sitting on the desk, untouched since he had dropped it.  Unlocking his phone, Tim looked at the tweet and the accompanying picture once again and surprisingly felt nothing but a numbness inside him.  He turns the phone around and gives it to Tam, letting her see.  Tim can tell the moment it clicks with Tam, as her jaw tightens.  It’s pretty amazing how Tim has made such a friend in Tam.  She gets angry for him over things he never even thought to be angry about.

Who knew fighting an eco-terrorist cult together would make Tam his ride-or-die?  He didn’t, that’s for sure.  But he wouldn’t change it for the world.  He’s so lucky to have a friend like her.

“You don’t deserve this.  They don’t deserve you.”  Tam says finally as she carefully puts down Tim’s phone as her hands shake with anger.  “You put so much into saving Wayne, into protecting everyone, and yet it’s like he doesn’t even give a shit.  Have you talked to him about taking back the CEO spot?”

Tim scoffs.

“I’d have to see him to do that.  I’ve sent him emails, even texts, but he always says he’ll get back to me.  Nothing is gonna happen because he doesn’t want anything to happen.”

“I can talk to my father; he can set up something-”

“No.”  Tim cuts her off.  “Not yet.”

“Why?”  The young woman asked, uncomprehending and staring at Tim with a hard stare.  “You’ve literally risked your life, permanently damaged your body for him, and he can’t even call you his son or invite you to a stupid fucking picnic!?”

“I’m not.” Tim sighs.  “His son, I mean.  He’s…said the title to me before, but he’s never treated me like I actually was his son.  Not like how he treats anyone else.  He’s never once gone to any event of mine or really gone out of his way to make me feel like I matter to him.  Eventually, I learned it was easier not ask for him to come but, y’know, I still was hoping he’d want me around, or something.”

He grins shrewdly at Tam.

“Pathetic, isn’t it?”

Tam sighs, taking Tim’s face into her hands.

“You’re not pathetic Tim, and it’s not pathetic to want someone to love you.  It’s a basic human want and need.”

Tim sighs, his eyes closed briefly as Tam leans forward and kisses his forehead.  The two sit in silence for a while; letting it all sink in.

“So, what are you going to do? You don’t want my father to step in, and Mr. Wayne isn’t gonna do squat; what’s the plan?”

Tim sighs.

“Well, to start, the board doesn’t respect me for shit since I’m a high school drop-out nepo baby.  So, my first business on the list is getting a GED, and then we’ll go from there.”

Tam smirks at her ‘Boss’.

“Well, I can’t do anything about the nepo baby situation, as it’s tragically a whole personality trait for you but, I can help you with the GED situation.”

“Ha,” The young CEO let out a laugh, leaning back in his chair.  “You act like you aren’t a nepo baby as well…but, thank you Tam.  I really appreciate it.”

“Hey, what are friends for?”  She shrugs, smiling down at him.

Tim smiles, light beginning to come back in his eyes.

XxXxXx

“When was this taken?”  Bruce asks, his voice oddly quiet.

Tim looks up from his desk, and yes, it was his desk Bruce, to see what the older man was talking about.  It was a picture of Tim, dressed in a cap and gown, smiling and holding his diploma in his hand.  It was the day he received his GED.  Sure, it wasn’t required to dress like that, but Tim’s friends had basically demanded it when they came to watch him graduate a year and a half ago.

Tam, Kon, Cassie, and Bart had cheered the loudest out of everyone in the small auditorium when he walked to receive his diploma, much to his pleased embarrassment.

“About a year and a half ago.”  Tim replied, looking back at his notes for the upcoming meeting that was in the next thirty minutes.  He needed to make sure he had this memorized or else Tam would maim him.

“You graduated?”  Bruce’s voice still sounded strange, like he was choked up.

“Uh, well, technically it’s my GED, but yeah.”

The only sound in Tim’s office is one of papers shuffling as Tim reads through the presentation notes he’s about to present.  Looking up, Tim finds Bruce staring at him with a wide eyed, hurt expression.  It startles Tim a bit, making him go still.

“Bruce?  What’s wrong?”

Bruce looks like he wants to blurt something out, but he visibly pulls himself back and clears his throat.

“I…wasn’t aware.”  He finally seemed to choke out.

“…Okay?” Tim stared at Bruce, confused to where this was leading.  Did Bruce think he was going to stay a drop out and continue to let the board make comments about his lack of education?

“Did you invite others?”  Bruce’s words are stiff, as if he’s carefully choosing each word before letting it out into the open air.

“Bruce…what is this about?  Why does it matter if others came to see me graduate?  What is the issue?”

The older man’s final strings of patience and self-restraint seem to finally snap.

“My ‘issue’ is that you never invited me to your graduation!  I didn’t even know about it until I saw the picture…Tim, why would you not invite me?”  Bruce’s voice is soft and hurt coating his words.

And Tim…just raises an eyebrow.

“Is this about not you not being seen there?  I promise you, the board didn’t care about that, hell, none of them were at my graduation event.  If you wanted to make some kinda statement about it, I mean, it’s kinda a little late for it since it’s been a while now.”

“No, Tim.  This is about you not inviting me to it.  I wanted to be there.  I want to be there for my son’s accomplishments.”  Bruce spoke, his voice going softer as he stares at Tim with a longing gaze.

A sharp, bark-like laugh rips out of Tim’s mouth before he can manage to stop it, and the sound seems to startle Bruce.

“Listen, Bruce…” Tim sighs as he stands up from his chair, beginning to get his things together.  “I’m not sure what you’re doing, or at least, think you’re doing, but we don’t do that.”

“Do what?”  The dark-haired man’s voice read with carefully lined confusion.

“This.”  Tim motions towards the two of them.  “We don’t do the whole hanging out or pretending we’re actually family.  Sure, I run your company for you, and I work with you for our nightlife, but that’s it.”

A heavy silence fills the room.  Bruce’s breathing seems to pick up.

“No.  Th-That’s not…You’re my son.”

“I’m really not.  I dropped the Wayne all those years ago during that issue with Ra’s.”

Tim looks at Bruce, really looks at him, and wonders why Bruce looks so devastated.

“Tim…I don’t know what I’ve done, but son, I do love you.  You are my son.”

The young adult sighed, looking at the time.  He had to go soon, or else Tam would come and hunt him down.

“Sure Bruce.  If I’m your son, tell me about a time that the two of us hung out, just one on one.  Work doesn’t count.”

Tim’s mentor looked flabbergasted for a moment, before a determined light filled his eyes.

“Mathletes…no, that was Dick…Not drama club…”  Bruce murmured softly before he shot up.  “Your art show!  I remember you telling me about it, back when you were in high school.”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll give you that.  I did have an art show in high school.  I entered in the photography section of it…But Bruce, do you ever remember attending?”  Tim pointedly asked.

“Of course, I wou-”

“Because I remember wondering where you were, after you had promised me that you would be there.  I had thought something was wrong; I tried to call you.  You sent me to voicemail.  So, I called Alfred and he told me that you had gone off with Damian because he had a bad day.”  Tim sighs as he turns away from Bruce and begins putting all the papers he’d need into a manilla folder.

“That’s not fair.  Damian was going through a tough transition adjusting to being here.”  Bruce defended.

“So was I.”  Tim looked Bruce in the eyes, his expression cool.  “I had just lost my father months before, and was adopted into what I thought was a family who cared about me.  I wanted, no, needed, someone to show up for me.  I begged you to please come to my event and you looked me in the eye and told me you wouldn’t miss it…but then you did.”

“I…Tim, I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I missed your event; I didn’t even realize…You were always so self-sufficient.”  The moment those words left Bruce’s lips, the man winced as he realized it was very wrong to say.

For the first time since they started the conversation, Tim started to look angry.

“Yes, Bruce.  I am self-sufficient, and do you know why?  Because my parents took great pains to raise me that way.  They made sure I was able to take care of myself and their things because they wanted to spend their life together jet setting around the world.  They didn’t want a child who would whine and beg them to come home or to stay simply because the child was lonely and missed them.  Didn’t you ever wonder why a thirteen-year-old boy could somehow regulate a grown man’s emotions or why I could perfectly keep my own feelings to myself?  Then again, I guess you were just happy I didn’t step too far out of line and start throwing a tantrum like a brat when I didn’t get your attention.”  Tim sighs, the anger sliding out of him as me makes his way towards the door.

“Tim, wait, please.”  Bruce reaches for Tim, but the young man moves away from his desperate reach.

“Bruce, I have to go.  I have a meeting that I’m going to be late for.”

“Tim, please.  I can fix this.”  And in Bruce’s eyes were the desperate stubbornness that Tim often saw in Batman.  The pure determination to Never Give Up.

“Sorry Bruce, but there’s nothing to fix.  If something was broken, it had to be built first and, well, that never really happened in the first place.”

Silence and quiet devastation filled the air.

“See you later Bruce, and don’t forget to turn the lights off on your way out.”

And Tim shuts the door and walks away from Bruce, leaving the man who he once wished to call his father to shatter.

XxXxXx

Tim laughs on his couch as he watches his friends fight over what flavor of popcorn is the best.  It’s a silly, nonsensical argument, but they do it because they know it’ll make Tim laugh.

It’s movie night, a tradition Tim and his friends try and do once a month.  They’re all busy people with busy lives, but they all put aside a day of lazy, binge-watching enjoyment and spending time together.  Cassie and Tam are on one of the love seats, catching each other up on the other’s life, while Kon and Bart continue to playfully argue if putting dill on popcorn is weird or not (Kon was Pro-Dill movement and Bart said that was the Lex in him talking).  The sound of a window opening had everyone turning to see their last attendee of their monthly movie marathon come in through the now open window.

Jason, seeing everyone staring at him, gives a small, almost shy wave.  Honestly, after everything that had gone on between Jason and himself, Tim never expected the two of them to ever be in any sort of friendly relationship.  Tim expected the same, stiff energy around them forever until Jason did something that Tim never really expected: Jason apologized. 

It wasn’t some half assed apology either; Jason went as completely honest as possible.  He apologized for everything he had done, made efforts to show he had changed and even promised to fuck off forever if that’s what Tim wanted.

Tim forgave him in the end, because after all, Jason truly meant it and did his best to make it up to Tim.  And honestly, some of Tim’s best friends had tried to kill him at some point and he was still friends with them, so why not give Jason a chance.

He made Jason aware though, that Jason wouldn’t have many chances though, as Tim had already used so much good grace on Jason after all those times the older man had tried to kill him.  Jason hadn’t argued, just nodded seriously but Tim had seen the relief in Jason’s eyes at the chance he had been given.  And Tim was glad he had taken the chance, because Jason was a great friend and ally to have in his corner.

Tim’s other’s friends though…well, they hadn’t been too thrilled at first.

Kon wanted throw Jason into orbit, Bart wanted to drag Jason around the world until he was a smear on the ground, and Cassie just wanted to beat his ass up.  Tim still has no idea what Tam said to Jason when she and Cassie dragged the man into a separate room, but when they walked out, Jason had looked wide eyed and wild and Cassie looked at Tam like she was a little bit in love with the other girl.

Kon snickers and still refuses to tell Tim what was said in that room.

But, over time, all of Tim’s friends become Jason’s friends, and vice versa.  It’s not unusual to find the Outlaws and the main core of Young Justice working together, training together or just hanging out.  And Tim is happy.

“Jason!”  Bart chirps, zipping over to the older man and slamming into him, hugging him.  “Tell Kon he’s wrong!”

“Kon, you’re wrong.”  Jason says easily, as he hugs Bart back lightly.

Kon scoffs. 

“You don’t even know what I’m supposedly wrong for…Also, I’m not, so there!”

Jason, still being clung to by Bart, looks over at Tim for help.  Tim isn’t sure if it’s Jason asking for context or for Bart to let go.  Probably both.

“Bart, let Jason go so he can sit down properly.”  Cassie calls out.  “And sorry Kon, I have to go with Bart on this one; dill on popcorn is weird.”

Kon lets out a half actually aggravated, half playful groan before throwing himself, and his bowl of dill covered popcorn onto the couch next to Tim.  Instantly leaning against his best friend, Tim has the perfect vantage point to see Jason’s face scrunch up in disgusted but almost curious expression.

“That’s…hmm.” Jason makes a face but loses it when Kon glares at him.

“You don’t get to have opinions when you’ve never tried it!”  Kon shoved the bowl of dill popcorn over Tim’s lap, towards Jason who had sat down next to Tim.  “Try it then.”

Jason shrugged before taking a couple pieces and popping them in his mouth before slowly testing them.  He swallows them and notices everyone watching him for a verdict.  Jason dramatically sticks his thumbs sideways before sticking it down.  Everyone simultaneously boos Kon.

“Why are you boo-ing me?!  I’m right, and you guys just don’t have a sophisticated palette.” Kon complains.

“Jason, do you think liking dill on your popcorn is an evil gene from Lex?”

“Yes, absolutely.”  Jason answered with no hesitation.

“Oh, come on!!”

As laughter filled the room, Tim laughs and smiles along as warmth fills his chest.

He had finally found his family, and his family had found him.

FIN