Chapter Text
Common logic would say that there was nothing better than summer to a ten-year-old, but Tim saw things differently. The smog in the sky trapped in all the heat and made the streetside garbage, left kindly for Gotham’s lacking sanitation department, even smellier than usual. No, believe it or not, Tim didn’t want to know what the residents of Bleecker Street had for dinner last night. Couldn’t the people in 120 eat something other than fish?
The villains grew bolder when it got hot out, too. Tim sometimes wondered if they had a shared evil-doing calendar or something, because the spike in activity kicked up after March. Everybody hated March. There was a totally missed opportunity there. Tim added it to the pile of ideas he’d use in case he turned into a supervillain.
Worst of all, summer meant parent-elected camps: etiquette, sailing, golf, you name it. It wasn’t like school, where Tim could do anything he wanted because he already learned what they were writing on the board months ago. No, the instructors at summer camps wanted him to be engaged, to ask questions and dance stupid dances and rig the sail or whatever.
With his tests freshly behind him, the world had officially opened up for the afternoon. A trip to the park across town sounded nice. Some old guys liked to play chess in the afternoons, and Tim found it funny listening to them bicker. It was easier hanging with them than most kids his age, who tended to look at him funny when he talked about the things he cared about. He’d miss seeing the men until the fall.
Not to brag, but Tim was getting pretty good with his skateboard. Maybe with Jason also out of school early, Tim would be able to spot Batman and Robin up close, instead of from his television. He sent a text to Harry, his usual driver. His parents arranged the whole setup a few months back, now that he was older and they were back out at digs more often.
Getting a ride home from a school friend. No need to pick me up.
Tim didn’t have many, or any friends, really, but what Harry didn’t know couldn’t hurt him. He usually used club meetings as his excuse, but being the last day of the school year, that option was moot. Tim made do.
If you captured Gotham at the right angle, she truly was the most beautiful city in the world. Tim put asking his father for a camera at the top of his to-do list. Oh man, what he could do with a real lens! Photographers always seemed the coolest in the movies. Wandering the world, learning about everything and everyone, in charge of his or her own destiny… awesome.
His phone buzzed. Harry sent a thumbs up. Score! Tim was in the clear. He popped his hood and kept on walking.
Tim kicked off from the curb once he was far enough away from the front gates. He would rather not deal with judgy looks from soccer moms. At one point, some guy decided skateboards were the source of all evil, and everyone just went along with it. Oh well, that was their problem. Nothing beat the feeling of wind in his face as the wheels spun below him.
He went hard right a few blocks so he could ride along the pier, which had been set on fire earlier this week by Penguin. Batman and Robin used the Batboat, as Tim coined it, to chase after a rogue Penguin in his penguin-themed raft. Such a dumb mode of transportation didn’t deserve a name. Batman and Robin came out on top of course, and Penguin was shipped back to Arkham.
Tim lost track of time weaving through streets and alleys across the city. No Bat alerts set off on his phone, so Tim stuck to the plan. George and Allen were at their usual board, and warmly greeted him as soon as he pulled up, even joking that he must’ve really wanted to see them because he’d arrived earlier than usual. Tim played spectator for a while until he saw an opening and had to tell George. The man had been on a losing streak for weeks, and it was getting kind of pathetic. George gave Allen a cheeky smile before saying “checkmate”. Tim and George cheered so loud that the birds perched on the closest branch flew away.
The hours flew by. Eventually, kids at the nearby playground were forced by their parents to stop playing and leave for dinner. Tim realized he should think about heading home, too. Probably. Mrs. Mac would be swinging by to make him dinner within the next two hours, and if he wasn’t there when she arrived, she’d tattle to his parents. Not ideal.
Tim told Allen and George that he’d be coming back with some new ideas for opening moves in September and walked over to the nearby water fountain. He leaned down and lapped up the water like a dog. Man, he was thirsty. He filled up the water bottle in his backpack afterwards, just in case.
He skated down his usual route, which cut through the older part of the city’s many angled pathways. He shot out of one that gave him some great drag and appeared onto a classic brownstone street. It was one of Tim’s favorites. If his parents ever dared to live in the city, Tim hoped they would be on a street like this. The trees lining the block were fragrant and bright. The gated flower beds were filled to the brim with peonies and irises, all different colors; pink, white, blue and yellow.
Just barely over the sound of his wheels turning on the concrete, Tim heard a muffled whimper. He stopped his board in place to listen. There it was again! The sound was too high pitched and keen to be from an adult. A kid, maybe, or a dog? Tim looked around, trying to find where the sound was coming from. Didn’t seem far.
“Is anybody there?”
There was a cry again. It had to be from a dog. This time, Tim could tell it was coming from ahead and to his right. Whoever it was, they were probably inside a car. Oh no! Were they stuck?
“Hello?”
Tim peered through the windows of the first car in front of him. He couldn’t see anyone. He tapped the window, just to be sure, but there was no movement.
He switched to the next car, a blue sedan. The whining sounded even louder. This had to be it.
Through fogged up windows, he found a yellow lab staring back at him with brown eyes.
He hadn’t spent much time with dogs. His parents had made it clear that was not changing anytime soon. They did not want to deal with slobber and dog hair despite Tim begging for one a few Christmases back.
He couldn’t tell you much about what made certain dog foods the healthiest, or anything like that. He did know, however, that being stuck inside a car on the hottest day of the month wasn’t good for anybody.
He ran up to the closest front door and banged on the wood as hard as he could. “Hello!” Tim shouted. “Your dog’s stuck in the car!”
He kept repeating himself, but nobody came. He tried the next few houses to his left and right, too. Nothing.
No one was going to help. The dog couldn’t wait, though. Who knew how long they’d been stuck inside?
Tim needed to do something, now. Without any car keys to open the door, there was only one option.
“I’m sorry, buddy. Please don’t be scared.”
Already mourning his loss of wheels, Tim grabbed his skateboard off the curb, breathed in sharply and slammed it down onto the window as hard as he could. The glass shattered under the impact of his now cracked board. The car alarm going off right after shouted one thing, over and over.
Tim was officially a felon.
The dog was barking harshly, which didn’t feel great. Tim’s arm darted through the opening. He bent his elbow and turned his hand around so he could flick the child safety lock and then open the door. He mentally crossed his fingers that the alarm would stop, but knew that was pretty much pointless.
The door opened. The dog stopped barking and looked up at him, panting heavily. The weight of its focused stare, like Tim was the only thing in the world at that moment, was intense. Tim shivered. The moment stretched on for what felt like forever.
It turned its gaze and jumped out of the car. Tim smiled. He did it!
“You’re free!”
Tim knew that dogs didn’t speak English. Maybe this one was a Meta with multilingual powers or something, because it immediately began running up the street, in the middle of the road. It didn’t stop to check out any front doors. Wasn’t it trying to go home?
Tim picked up his skateboard, ditched the crime scene and followed. “Wait! Stop! C’mere, boy! It’s not safe.” He tried clapping his hands, too, but nothing he did made the dog turn around.
He could hear a car coming from behind him, but the driver would just have to stop and wait.
Tim continued his chase down the block. He lost sight of the dog when it turned left around the bend. Tim’s anxiety skyrocketed. No! He couldn’t lose them!
He made it to the bottom of the street and angled the same direction as the dog, who he found now sniffing a bush with flower buds.
“There you are,” Tim said with relief. He pet it in small, awkward strokes. It gave him no reaction.
“Get your dog on a goddamn leash,” a passerby complained. Tim jumped. He hadn’t noticed them coming his way.
“Sorry!” They needed to get a move on, now. To where, Tim really wasn’t sure. He checked its collar to see if there was a name, number, address, anything to help him. “LUCY” was engraved in all capital letters on the front of the bone-shaped dog tag. The start of a phone number was listed below, but Tim couldn’t make it out fully. A few of the stamped-on numbers had worn off. He quickly looked below to confirm that the dog was, in fact, a girl.
“Hi Lucy,” Tim started, uncertain. What are you supposed to say to a dog? She didn’t look up from her sniffing, and he tried again. “Lucy?” This time, she reacted, turning her gaze straight onto him for a few seconds. She got bored of waiting for him to figure out what he was doing, and went back to the bush. “Let’s get you home, girl. Can you show me?”
He wrapped his hand around her collar and began walking back towards the street the car was on. It was still beeping. A wave of dread washed over Tim. What was he going to do, just wait by the car all night? At best, they’d rip his curled palm from Lucy and tell him that he should’ve found them instead of smashing their window. At worst, they’d call the cops and Tim would be sent off to juvie for destruction of property. Tim was against breaking the law, but he was trying to do the right thing!
Lucy hesitated in walking with him, giving some resistance. It seemed they both agreed going back to the street wasn’t the right choice.
He couldn’t leave Lucy, either. What if she ran into the middle of the road again and got hurt? Tim would lie awake all night worrying about her, never knowing if her owner came back or if she got hit by a car.
Maybe there was a shelter nearby. They take in dogs all the time, right? But Tim had also heard plenty of horror stories. They put animals down every day for no good reason, claiming that they’re annoying or smelly or that their face was ugly. Lucy wasn’t any of those things. She didn’t deserve that. She deserved to live, and Tim wasn’t about to let that happen on his watch.
The only option, then, was to take her back home with him. Just for tonight. Tomorrow, he’d retrace his steps and see if he could find her owner without revealing that he was the one who broke their car window. If that didn’t work, then he’d pick out a shelter that wouldn’t put her down.
“Change of plans, Lucy. You’re going home with me today. That okay?”
He opened the car service app on his phone. Harry was a no go for multiple reasons, and not just because he already sent him off for the night. His parents could never know that a dog ever set foot in their house.
Tim poured water out of his bottle right by Lucy’s mouth while waiting for the car to come. She got with the program after a beat and stuck her tongue out, lapping up the lukewarm liquid. Warm water was better than none. Tim guessed that more than half of it splashed onto the sidewalk, but Lucy didn’t mind. She kept trying to drink even when his bottle ran out. He’d get her more water as soon as they were home.
The car finally arrived. Tim tried to drag Lucy into the back, but she wouldn’t move from the ground. He was frustrated for a moment before realizing.
“I’m sorry, girl. I know. But I promise I’ll be with you the whole time. I won’t leave, okay? You’re safe.”
Picking her up and plopping her onto the backseat was a failure. Tim’s noodle arms didn’t have the strength needed to carry that out. He sighed in frustration, trying quickly to come up with a solution before the driver got fed up with him and sped off.
He went around behind Lucy and gave her a firm push from her butt. She looked back at him with whale eyes, and Tim felt totally guilty all over again. She got with the program and climbed in.
He’d ordered a pet-friendly ride, but he was still nervous. He made eye contact with the driver through the rear view mirror.
“Timothy?” The driver asked.
“Yep.” Tim confirmed, and they were off. Time to add “kidnapper” to his list of charges, too.
The cab pulled up to his house. He thanked the driver and jumped out, hand still attached firmly to Lucy’s collar. It’d taken her a bit to settle on the drive, but she eventually curled up silently by the opposite side door, looking out the window.
Tim started towards his front door before freezing in place. Mrs. Mac was due any minute now. He couldn’t bring Lucy inside where she could see her!
He changed course towards his backyard. There was a shed his dad had put in a few summers back that would work well enough as a temporary hiding spot for Lucy. His dad had planned on taking up woodworking as a hobby, and bought a ton of fancy equipment for it. He’d told Tim all about his big plans, and how Tim could pitch in, as long as he wore safety goggles and a hat.
Then, Drake Industries had a huge year in sales, and woodworking fell to the wayside. His dad never returned the tools, so now they collected dust alongside their lawnmowers and rusty garden shears. No need to use them when they had people who could come do the job for them, instead.
“Alright, Lucy,” Tim said as he led her to a clear corner. He turned the nearby basin sink on and filled a clear cup with water. “Can you stay here, please? And don’t touch the power tools, dad said they’re dangerous for kids, which definitely means for dogs, too. Please don’t chew anything, either. I’m already in enough trouble with the law, don’t want to make dad mad, too.”
Tim placed the cup down and watched her for a bit, not wanting to leave. She watched him right back. Their staring contest would’ve kept going if he didn’t hear the familiar sound of Mrs. Mac’s car pulling into their driveway.
“I’ll be back, I promise!” He began to walk away. At the door, he turned to check if she was in the corner like he asked.
She wasn’t. She was two steps behind him, instead.
“Lucy, please, I gotta go.” He dragged her back to the corner. “It won’t be long.”
He rushed to the front of the shed and slammed the door behind him. Heart pounding, he cut through the back patio and unlocked the kitchen door using the key hidden in the potted plant. The cool air of the house shocked him upon entry.
Mrs. Mac was already in the kitchen, opening the fridge. “There you are, dear! Called for you and heard nothing, gave me a fright. Were you playing in the back?”
Tim hadn’t ‘played’ in years, but he wasn’t about to waste a perfectly good explanation.
“Sorry, Mrs. Mac. Yeah, I was in the yard. Whatcha making for dinner?”
By the time Mrs. Mac left, stars clearly dotted the nighttime sky. She stayed longer than usual, chatting his ear off about her grandkids and what they’ll be up to for the summer. Tim couldn’t just send her off without raising suspicion. He acted like this was the most interesting thing he’d heard all day, even though he’d never met any of them and didn’t plan on it anytime soon.
One of the best parts about Mrs. Mac was how she made enough food to feed the entire Justice League. The leftovers would normally last him all weekend and then some, but Tim planned on splitting the difference with Lucy. He’d make do. It didn’t feel right, eating dinner and leaving her with nothing.
He found Lucy in a different corner of the shed than where he’d left her. She’d moved to one that was darker and covered partly by a poorly wrapped tarp. Once he came closer, he noticed she was shivering. Odd, since it was one of the hottest days of the year so far. Maybe the shed was drafty?
Oh, Tim realized. She was scared.
“Sorry that took so long.” Lucy kept her head on the ground, but he could see the whites of her eyes as she turned up her gaze to him. “Let’s go inside now, yeah?” He coaxed her to leave the shed and walk to the house.
There was something about the house when his parents were gone; the air buzzed with emptiness, wrapping his skin and suffocating him. Tim could only fill so much of it. That was the real worst part about the summer. He was unable to escape the silence for more than a few hours a day. It was harder, then, to tell himself that absolute freedom was all he’d ever wanted.
Not tonight, though. Lucy walked two steps ahead of him through the back door and immediately began sniffing the floor. Her breath clouded briefly against the marble before clearing. The dog tag on her collar clinked and echoed in the kitchen and into the hallway, past his parents’ dotted collection of artifacts and ugly antique vases.
The buzzing wasn’t there.