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Timothy Drake hates Walmart with a burning passion. The bright lights, the constant beeping of checkouts, the unnecessary amount of people in every aisle at any moment of the day.
Usually Mrs. Mac goes to the store and gets food for him for the week when his parents were gone, but Tim had to go himself this time. Mrs. Mac had texted him on Sunday and told him that she had come down with the flu and wouldn’t be able to make the grocery run. He knew how bad the flu was this time of year, so Tim told her to take all the time she needed.
Now he’s alone at Walmart.
Tim had waited as long as he could, but eventually he couldn’t put off the trip any longer. So after school on Thursday he walked himself over to the superstore closest to campus.
The list of things he needed was short, but as soon as he stepped into the fluorescent lighting, it felt infinite.
Paper towels, fish food, microwave meals, shampoo, and as a bribe for himself to make the trip, energy drink.
Tim ran the list over and over in his mind as he slowly walked through the sliding doors. What was the easiest path to get the stuff and get out?
Shampoo first he decided. It was the thing that was most out of the way- all of the other things he needed were on the other side of the store.
As soon as that was decided, Tim made a sharp turn past the pharmacy, weaving between the line and a stray old man looking at ibuprofen bottles. The shampoo aisle was farther down than he thought and as soon as he made it, Tim turned around. Too many people. Why were there so many people who needed shampoo?
Welp. Guess I can circle back before checkout. He told himself, already battling with if he wanted to steal his mother’s dry shampoo for another day or not. He sighed. Better not chance it. If she comes back and finds the bottle too empty then she’d get mad.
His movements felt jerky as he walked through the center aisle by the craft section. It was easier to go to the back of the store and work your way forward than cut through the ocean of people at the front.
Tim was plotting his escape when he passed the fish food aisle and once more kept walking once he noticed the amount of people. Why did the fish food have to be by the dog food?
If it were any of the aisles that held the food Tim himself would eat, he would just skip it all together. He could ration out the other food he got and wait until Mrs. Mac was back at full strength and send her instead. But nooooo it had to be the fish food. Tim wouldn’t be the terrible pet owner that left his fish hungry for another night because of his anxiety.
Plus if his parents came home early and found that the fish food was out, that was the last Tim would see of Poker Chip. When Tim was small and begged for a sibling, to shut him up Janet Drake gave the child the black and white fish. (Originally his name was fishy, but when Dick and Jason showed interest in Tim’s younger sibling, he decided the fish needed a more grown up name. Poker Chip it was.)
The boy shook himself out of his thoughts and kept walking. The closest thing to the fish aisle were the paper towels for some reason. He decided to grab those and then circle back to see if the walkway was clear.
Once he made it to the shelf, Tim, for the first time, had to figure out what paper towels to get. There were too many brands. Some were ‘Super Absorbant!’, others were ‘Better than the Competitors!’
He chose the $1 Walmart brand and shoved it under his arm. Back to the fish aisle he goes.
The trip finally seemed to be looking up as Tim finally headed back to the shampoo aisle, rest of the goodies in hand. Until a quiet but shrill alarm started ringing on the exact side of the store he needed to be in. He groaned internally. Why now? Why me?
The sensory hell that is Walmart had been slowly getting to Tim this entire time, but the alarm was his last straw. The lights were too bright and made his eyes hurt. The flood of people seemed to be thinning, but at the same time had more likelihood of having no spacial awareness and bumping into Tim. The continuous beeps of checkout had turned into a constant hum at the base of his skull. The smell of every person, merchandise, and cleaning product was creating an impressive sensory experience for his nose. Everything about this store was making him want to curl up in a ball in the corner and not come out.
As Tim piled the shampoo onto his evergrowing pile of things it was suddenly knocked out. As was everything in his arms. And he was knocked to the ground. It seemed as though some kids weren’t looking where they were going and toppled him over.
Once he was on the floor, everything caught up to Tim. Tears pooled in his eyes and he just stared at the mess that he had created. Suddenly he was too aware of how his clothes itched against his skin. His left arm was freezing from where he’d set the microwave meals. His heart was racing too fast in his chest- he could feel it in his throat and his ears. His butt hurt from where he fell. There was a warm hand on his shoulder-
Wait what? Warm hand on his shoulder?
Snapped out of his thoughts, Tim looks up to see… Dick? Why was Dick here?
Dick was saying… something- a worried look on his face. Tim couldn’t hear him over the blood rushing in his ears. Behind him the boy noticed Jason was picking up the pile of things Tim had collected. Tim blinked at both of them, slowly becoming able to hear once more.
“...mmy? Are you ok? Tim?” There was a lot of worry in Dick’s tone. More than his expression implied.
Tim tries to nod, tries to be strong but tears drip down his cheeks as he does.
Dick’s expression breaks once more and he wraps his little brother in a hug. “It’s ok baby bird, it’s ok.”
Tim just lets out a soft sob into his shoulder. Then realizes they’re still in a Walmart and straightens up, swiping at his eyes. If his parents saw this scene he’d never hear the end of it. It’d be the end of the Drake legacy.
“I’m sorry, sorry..” He starts, trying to blink back tears and put on the mask of ‘I’m fine.’ Dick doesn’t let him.
“Nope. Not doing that. Jason, you go pay, I’m taking baby bird here out to the car.” Jason nods and starts walking towards the self checkout.
Tim starts to call out and digs in his pocket for the wad of cash he had to hand over. A strange expression comes over Jason’s head and he shakes his head. “Nuh uh, Bruce is paying for this.”
Once more Tim tries to protest, but Dick shushes him. “You good to walk?”
The boy nods and his older brother half carries him out of the store to the car.
Someone had clearly texted Alfred about what happened because when the three entered, the manor was already in ‘overstimulation mode.’ All the lights were turned down, the temperature was comfortable compared to its usual frigidness, and the usual hum of the manor was quieter. (Tim had tried to get the others to take him back to Drake manor, but they had vehemently refused. He gave up after that, too tired to fight with them. )
Tim was out of it as they set him up in a guest room. Dick gave him options on what he wanted to do, trying not to overwhelm. Did he want to shower? Want any hot chocolate? A blanket? Hoodie? Tim answered as best he could, but he just wanted to be alone right now.
Jason hovered around, clearly still worried. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type like his brother was though, so he let Dick take the lead. He did toss Tim one of his old hoodies though when Tim said he’d like one.
Eventually, they left him there, the door clicking softly shut behind them.
For a moment, Tim just stood in the middle of the room, hoodie clutched in his hands.
It was quiet. Too quiet.
Tim lasted maybe three minutes in the guest room before the silence got too loud.
It wasn’t really silent. There was the faint hum of the manor, distant footsteps, pipes in the walls, but compared to Walmart it felt like someone had turned the world’s volume knob down too fast. His ears were still ringing.
He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at his hands. They wouldn’t stop shaking. That was annoying. He exhaled sharply, dragged a hand down his face, and stood up again almost immediately.
Yeah. No. This was worse.
Before he could talk himself out of it, Tim crossed the room and pulled the door open. The hallway lights were dim, softer than usual, but it still felt too big. Too empty.
He hesitated for half a second then turned toward the stairs.
He didn’t have to go far. Dick was in the living room, almost as if he knew Tim wouldn’t make it long alone. He looked up the second Tim appeared, expression softening.
“Hey.” Dick said gently.
Tim hovered at the bottom of the stairs before forcing himself to sit on the couch, leaving a small gap between him and Dick. “Hey.”
Tim swallowed. His throat still felt tight. “I’m sorry about everything.” He said quickly, like he’d been holding the words in. “It wasn’t…it wasn’t a big deal. Just… crowded. I just-” He huffed out a breath.
Tim stared down at his hands. They were still shaking, but less so now. He curls them into Jason’s hoodie.
“Tim,” Dick said gently.
“I’m serious,” Tim pushed, words picking up speed. “It was just bad timing. I should’ve been paying more attention or something. It’s stupid. I’m good now.”
“Nope,” Dick said, soft but firm. “We’re not doing that.”
Tim frowned, glancing over. “Doing what?”
“The part where you pretend that was nothing,” Dick said. “And the part where you take the blame for it. It wasn’t your fault.”
Tim let out a short, humorless breath. “I mean. You guys literally knocked me over, so-”
Dick winced. “Yeah. About that-”
“It’s fine,” Tim cut in quickly. “You didn’t mean to. I was in the way, I wasn’t looking, it was crowded-”
“Tim.” He stopped.
Dick shook his head a little. “You weren’t ‘in the way.’ We came barreling in like idiots.”
From somewhere behind them, Jason’s voice cut in, blunt as ever, “He’s right. That one’s on us.”
Tim startled slightly. He hadn’t realized Jason was still nearby. He didn’t turn around though.
“It’s not-” Tim started, weaker now. “I was already…off. That’s not-”
“You were already overwhelmed,” Dick said gently. “And then we knocked you flat and dumped everything you were holding.”
Tim pressed his lips together.
“You couldn’t hear me,” Dick continued, quieter. “You were shaking so bad I thought you were gonna pass out.”
Heat crept up Tim’s neck. “I just overreacted.”
“You didn’t.”
“It’s a grocery store.” Tim said, sharper now. “People go there all the time, it’s not-”
“It was for you.” Dick said.
Tim shook his head, fast. “No, it-”
“Hey.” Softer. “Look at me.”
Tim hesitated but did.
Dick’s expression had shifted. It was still gentle, but there was guilt there now too. “You don’t have to minimize it to make us feel better. If anything, that makes it worse.”
Tim blinked at that.
“I’m sorry, Timmy.” Dick added quietly. “We should’ve been paying attention.”
From the back, Jason again, rough but sincere, “Yeah. Sorry, kid.”
Tim’s throat tightened unexpectedly. “You don’t have to-”
“We do.” Dick said simply.
“…Walmart sucks.” Tim muttered after a long moment.
“Yeah.” Dick said, a faint smile tugging at his mouth. “Getting tackled doesn’t help.”
“I’m sorry.” He said after a second.
Dick frowned immediately. “For what?”
“For everything. Making you guys deal with it. The groceries, the money, I had it, I just-”
“Hey. No.” Dick nudged his shoulder. “You didn’t make us do anything. And we’re the ones who turned your grocery run into a disaster, remember? You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“…Okay.” Tim relents, the tension in his shoulders finally releasing.
Dick watched him for a second longer, then leaned back slightly.
“C’mon.” he said. “Just… sit. We’ll put something on.”.
Jason appears at the end of the couch and flops down. “Alright. Movie. Before Tim convinces himself furniture is also overwhelming.”
Tim shot him a tired glare, curling up into the couch cushions as Dick wraps his arm around his shoulders.
“I’m fine,” he muttered again anyway.
“Sure,” Jason said. “And I’m a delicate flower.”
Dick rolled his eyes and flicked through options and landed on Tangled. They’d all seen it enough times and it was easy to fall asleep to. The screen glowed softly in the dim room as it started.
Tim slowly sank further into the cushions. The hoodie and Dick’s arm were warm. The room didn’t feel like it was pressing in anymore. His hands weren’t shaking now. He didn’t notice when his breathing started to even out.
Jason glanced over first and watched for a second. “He’s out.”
“Yeah,” Dick murmured.
“…He’s gonna insist that it wasn't that bad tomorrow,” Jason added.
Dick huffed softly. “Probably.”
The movie kept playing in the low light, neither of them turning it off, while Tim slept- finally still, finally quiet.