Chapter Text
Tim has always had a weird relationship with birthdays.
Growing up, his parents were never big on birthday celebrations. Jack Drake was notoriously bad at remembering important personal dates, and more than once his dad had to rush out to buy his mother a last-minute anniversary gift. Tim clearly remembers how, on his 6th birthday, it took till dinner for his father to remember what date it was. They were all sitting around the dining room table with Tim excitedly recounting his day at school. His parents had only been home for a few days after having spent almost four weeks in Namibia, and Tim was determined to do as many ‘normal family things’ as possible before they left for Peru by the end of the month. Despite his excitement, Tim made sure to finish chewing before he spoke, just as his mother taught him.
“…and then the whole class sang for me! It was kind of embarrassing, but still nice. Miss Delos even gave me a cupcake with a candle and everything!”
“Wait,” his dad interrupted, looking confused. “Why was your class singing for you?” With a slight eyeroll, his mother answered before Tim could.
“Goodness, Jack. Do you not know what today’s date is?” At her husband’s blank stare, Janet tisked in disappointment.
“It’s the 19th, Dear. Timothy’s birthday.”
“The 19th already?!” Tim startled at his dad’s exclamation. Jack had a very loud voice when he was worked up.
Tim could feel it rattle around in his ears long after the words left his father’s mouth. Jack reached out and clapped a hand on Tim’s shoulder.
“Happy birthday, Sport! You're getting so big!”
“That he is”, his mother added with a small, but warm, smile. While his dad forgot dates very easily, his mom was excellent at remembering them. When Tim woke up that morning and went down for breakfast, his mom was already pattering around in the kitchen.
“Morning, Mom!” Tim greeted brightly. It was not often that his parents were awake before he went to school, so this was as good as the best birthday present ever for Tim.
His mom sent a smile and a soft, “Good morning, Sweetheart”, his way from her place at the stove. Tim crept closer, curious as to what his mom was making.
“How does pancakes sound, Mr Birthday Boy?”
“That sounds really good, Mom. Thank you!” Tim beamed up at his mom. It was tradition for her to cook him one of his favourites on his birthday, whether it be breakfast, lunch or dinner. Tim saw it as his mom’s present to him and looked forward to it every year.
She briefly bent down and placed a kiss on the top of his head, which caused Tim to feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Janet Drake was not an especially tactile person by nature, Tim knew, so he savoured every little bit of physical affection he got from her.
“Birthday pancakes coming right up. Why don’t you go get the cutlery for us, mmh?”, and with that, his mom turned back to the stove.
Tim practically skipped towards the cutlery drawer – he was so happy. He knew there would be no big party for his birthday, but that was alright. Just spending time with his parents was enough of a gift. Besides, Tim knew that his dad would no doubt add a few extra hundred dollars to his personal credit card.
“Make sure to buy yourself something nice, sport. You know way better than I what you’ll like. Just don’t overspend”, his dad would always add with a wink.
It wasn’t much, but it was what Tim was used to. And he was perfectly happy with things being the way they were.
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All good things come to an end, though.
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As Tim got older, his parents spent less and less time in Gotham. This was perfectly fine for Tim. His parents made sure they were home for Christmas and his birthday, so really, it was fine.
For his 8th birthday, right after Tim blew out the candle on the birthday cupcake he begged his mom for, his parents informed him that his nanny would no longer be staying overnight. Instead, she would come over each morning to prepare breakfast for Tim and get him ready for school, then leave right after dinner.
“You’re such a big and responsible boy now, Timothy,” his father explained, “Big boys don’t need someone to watch over them while they sleep, now do they?”
Pride bloomed in Tim’s chest when his dad called him responsible. I am pretty responsible, aren’t I?, Tim mused to himself.
He knew how the microwave worked, he knew how to be careful with the kettle and not burn himself when he made hot chocolate, and he always remembered to set his alarm for school the night before. He practically already knew how to look after himself. Being without a nanny at night probably wouldn’t be that bad. When his parents left to catch their flight two weeks later, Tim promised them he would be a good and responsible boy. He would make them proud.
Besides, his nanny, Miss Flins, wasn’t the most fun person to be around. She was old and grey-haired and always smelled like too-sweet perfume. Tim wouldn’t mind at all not having her in the manor at night. He might even be able to watch TV at night now! No, Miss Flins to shoo him off to bed at 8 pm sharp each night.
Yes, Tim decided as he waved goodbye to his parents, this arrangement won’t be that bad at all.
And it wasn’t all that bad, or even really different from how he lived before. The only thing that changed at first was that Tim could now stay up as late as he wanted to. The first month without Miss Flins policing his bedtime led to many a night where Tim went to sleep way, way too late.
But it was ok! Third grade was so easy for Tim that he could doze a bit in class and still answer correctly when the teacher asked him questions. So it all worked out.
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The real impact of his parents viewing him as a “big boy” now came around Tim’s 9th birthday. Tim clutched his phone close to his ear, hoping that if he listened hard enough, his mom’s words would change.
“I’m sorry, Timothy, but your dad and I won’t be able to make it back to Gotham for your birthday”. Tim had to take a deep breath to stop the tears from falling.
“I- is there no way you guys can make it? Even just for a day?” Tim was fully aware he was whining, but he struggled to care about that at the moment. He had never spent his birthday without seeing his parents, even if just briefly. That had always been the only present he wanted for his birthday.
Janet’s sigh carried through the phone. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, but we really can’t. The dig we’re busy with right now is very time-sensitive. Every hour counts. You know we would have come for your birthday if we could.”
“I know”, Tim whispered back. By this point, he had lost the fight with his tears, the first drop already trailing across his cheek. There was a shuffle in the background. It was his dad who spoke next.
“We’ll make it up to you as soon as we get back to Gotham, Sport. Scouts honour.” Tim resisted the urge to remind his dad that he had never been a Boy Scout.
“We’ll be sure to have Miss Flins buy you any cupcake you want for your birthday, okay? You can even take some to school for your friends if you want. How does that sound?” Tim put as much enthusiasm as he could into his voice when he affirmed to his dad that he loved the idea of taking cupcakes to school for his friends, even though he only had one friend at school, and Ives didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.
With a last “goodbye” and “love you”, his parents hung up, leaving Tim staring blankly out of his bedroom window.
It’s fine, it’s just this once, Tim tried to tell himself, vehemently ignoring the nagging feeling that this was the beginning of the end.
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A few months after his 9th birthday, Tim saw a clip of Robin doing a move that looked really, really familiar. He just couldn’t put his finger on why.
Several hours scouring the internet later, Tim learned that the fancy move was called a quadruple flip and that only 3 people in America had the skills to pull it off. One of whom is Richard Grayson, who used to be part of the Flying Graysons when his parents were still alive. A memory suddenly floated into Tim’s mind, blurry around the edges, but still there.
A boy with golden skin, dark hair and striking blue eyes, smiling down at him. The boy telling Tim, “I wish I could just take you with me. I’ve always wanted a baby brother!” And then, “Keep your eyes on me during the show, I’ll do a super special move just for you”.
That is why he recognised the move Robin did, Tim realises. Because years ago, a boy named Dick Grayson performed the very same move for baby Tim.
But if only three people can do that move… and Dick Grayson is one of those…
Tim swallowed thickly, the pieces of the puzzle slowly falling into place in his head. Richard Grayson, more casually known as Dick Grayson, was one of only three people who could do a very specific, very difficult move. A move that Robin was videoed doing. Robin, who operated in Gotham. Gotham, where Dick Grayson now lived as the ward of Bruce Wayne. Bruce Wayne, who was rich enough to buy or produce all the fancy tech he could ever want or need, and who was known for frequently getting into “dumb accidents” that led to bruises and broken bones.
“Holy identity reveal, Batman”, Tim breathed out. “I know who Batman and Robin are”.
Tim had always been a huge fan of Batman and Robin. What kid in Gotham wasn’t? Everyone knew Batman only beat up adults who had been bad, and Robin always comforted crying kids. They were Gotham’s heroes, even if they were vigilantes. But most importantly, they were Tim’s heroes.
And knowing that Batman was Bruce Wayne? That Dick Grayson, who performed a special move just for him, was Robin?! And that Bruce Batman Wayne and Dick Robin Grayson lived just up the – admittedly very long – road from him? Well, that just made Tim’s hero worship turn into something a little more personal.
Tim spent that entire night researching the vigilantes, trying to learn everything the public knew about Gotham’s protectors. There was mournfully little available on the internet, with the only pictures Tim could find being of Robin, and all of them were extremely dark and blurry.
Tim wished he could see the Bat and his Robin in action, wished he could see them fight the city’s rogues with his own two eyes. Then he didn’t need to be satisfied with the blurry pictures of Robin, and none of Batman.
Then a thought struck him.
What if I just took a picture of them myself? How hard could it be? It would be so cool if I could get my own photo of Robin. Maybe even Batman!
The next day, Tim spent his birthday money on a state-of-the-art camera and the darkest rain-resistant jacket he could find online. With no adults around to check up on him, he had all the time in the world to track down the dynamic duo in the streets of Gotham.
With minimal to no adult supervision and the urge to take at least one photo of Gotham’s dynamic duo as his motivation, young Timothy Drake started going out into the city at night shortly after his 9th birthday.
The new thrill of trailing after Batman and Robin was almost enough to bury the misery in his heart over his parents being away for his birthday.
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On his 10th birthday, Tim bought himself a vanilla cupcake, stuck a candle in it and tried his best not to crumble under the grief of his parents not being in Gotham for his birthday again.
Guess I should have trusted my gut when they skipped last year, Tim thought bitterly, then immediately felt guilty.
His parents loved him, they really did. They just never viewed birthdays as something that needed much acknowledgement. Birthdays were definitely not important enough to skip important work for, or to fly all the way back to Gotham for.
At least it seemed he managed to make his parents proud with how responsible and independent he was, just as 8-year-old him promised he would. When his mom called to let him know they unfortunately had extremely urgent business to attend to in France during the week of his birthday, she also informed him that they no longer felt the need to hire a nanny for him.
“Look at how well you’ve been doing the last two years, Timothy”, his mother started. “You’re such a big boy now, I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine without Miss Flins. She is getting up there in years, in any case”.
Tim had to agree with that. While Miss Flins wasn’t as old as some other people he’s seen on TV or around Gotham, she had started to complain about her hip every other day. It might be better for her health not to have to be on her feet at work the entire day, Tim supposed.
When his mother proposed that a housekeeper would instead start coming over three times a week, Tim didn’t even argue. It wouldn’t really change things at home all that much anyway. Miss Fins usually left him to his own devices most of the time, only calling him downstairs for lunch and dinner.
The only difference to Tim’s day-to-day life would be that, now, he wouldn’t have to hide evidence that he was out all night every morning. There wouldn’t be any nosy adults poking around his room for more than half the week!
Tim tried to feel excited about that prospect as he stared at the little flickering flame of his candle. For a few minutes, he just stared at it, eyes unseeing, before he mumbled a listless, “Happy birthday to me,” and blew it out. The cupcake wasn’t half bad, Tim absently noted, but nothing to write home about.
With his birthday cupcake eaten, Tim got dressed in his nightly activities getup (dark rain-proof jacket, grey jeans, hiking boots, beanie and, of course, his camera) and snuck out his bedroom window.
Gotham City and its two protectors were all Tim needed to make this day mean something to him. He would take the photos he managed to nab of Batman and Robin as his birthday present.
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Tim spent his 11th and 12th birthdays much the same, asking his new housekeeper, Ms Mac, to bring him a strawberry cupcake one year and a chocolate one the next. For variety.
But then Jason Todd died, Robin died, and a piece of Batman died with him. Tim saw it himself.
Every night he went out to photograph the Bat, he saw the man beat petty thieves within an inch of their lives. He saw Batman power through 3 hours of extra patrol despite having a bullet lodged in his shoulder. He saw that sometime soon, someone was going to die – either Batman was going to go too far and kill someone, or he was going to let someone kill him.
Tim tried his best to get Dick to come back to Gotham after he realised that, begging the man to be Batman’s Robin again, because Batman needed Robin. But Dick refused, so it was up to Tim to save Batman from himself.