Work Text:
Tim wakes up, pain seeping in to his joints, dread filling his stomach as the pain amplifies itself to a miserable degree. Tim screws his eyes shut, reaching blindly across his bed to try and find his phone. He pulls it out from where it was, tangled in his sheets, and looks at the screen. 7:03 AM, Meeting at 11:00 at WE - Must Attend, reads the reminder at the bottom of the lock screen. Tim lets out a loud groan, staring at the wall opposite to him where his crutches lay. Tim pushes himself up into a sitting position, trying to gather the energy to limp his way across his room.
Eventually, Tim stands up, using the wall and his bed to find his balance, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass, at least enough to limp across the room and force his hands into the arm cuffs of the crutches. He winces, forcing himself to take a deep breath to ground himself, slowly relaxing his legs in a way that gets rid on the tenseness that plagues his body. He slowly shifts his weight to the crutches before waddling towards his bedroom door, his shoulder brushing against the wall to keep him from falling down.
He makes his way out into the hallway, not even trying to go down the stirs with his crutches, instead rolling them down the stairs as he sits down, sliding down the stairs as carefully as he can without hurting himself further. The crutches clank together as they make their own way down the stairs, and Tim can tell that the noise it loud– the noise is hurting his own head, afterall, but he can’t find it within himself to care. If he’s miserable and in pain, the other people in the house can handle being up a little early, anyways. Besides, most of their room have a layer of soundproofing that makes it relatively easy to ignore loud sounds from the outside.
Alfred is already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for those in the house that have to be places early (meaning, Tim, Damian, and Duke, the former with work and the two latter with school).
“Alfie.” Tim greets, trying not to fall over as he gets used to using the crutches. He’s new to them, only having gotten them a few months ago and, luckily, not having a bad pain day falling on the same days as he needs to be at work, so he’s still trying to learn how to keep his balance on them. He likes to think that he has impeccable balance, but alas, when he’s overly exhausted and already unable to move on of his legs, he loses a bit of his spark. He’s come to accept it, no matter how reluctantly, but alas, he knows that he isn’t the most graceful when he’s on his crutches. Alfred nods at him in his own, silent greeting.
“I see you are not feeling the best today.” He remarks. Tim snorts.
“When am I ever,” he bitterly replies, his eyes focusing at on the ceiling. Alfred hums quietly.
“I presume I will bring you to work this morning after dropping the boys off at school?” He half-states, half-asks. Tim nods.
“I would appreciate if you did. I, uh, don’t really wanna drive today.” He admits. Alfred nods.
“Of course, Master Tim. Now, go sit, I will bring you your food in a moment.” He directs, Tim smiling from Alfred’s loving direction. He’s grateful, though, that Alfred finally accepting Tim’s request to be just ‘Tim’, as opposed to ‘Timothy’. He thinks that it was because, after Bruce adopted him, he grimaced whenever someone brought out his full name, and Alfred noticed that. No matter what the reason was, tim is still grateful, nonetheless.
Alfred, true to his word, brings Tim some pancakes and eggs after only a few minutes, placing Damian and Duke’s plates at their places as well, the two boys joining them almost instantly, as if they knew that Alfred had food for them. Tim smiles at the thought, knowing that, when he was in school he was the same way.
They leave soon after that, Tim taking a few minutes to get dressed (he had showered the night before, thankfully) and pack his work bag (which all he really needed to do was put his laptop in it, since it typically stays packed).
An hour later, Tim is at his office, staring at a too bright screen as he reads over the notes fro the meeting he has in two hours, already dreading the work he has to do today.
~~~
Tim waddles into the large conference room, many of the attendees already in their seats, their attention turning to him as the crutches click with every movement. Many of those who have been there for a while look confused, and the newcomers look confused but are trying to hide it, as if they believe that this is a normal occurrence and they were just unaware. Unbeknownst to them, this is a first for everyone (even Tim, since he’s never used the crutches outside the comfort of his own home before).
Tim sits down at his chair at the head of the table, leaning the crutches against the side of the large table. The crutches move, and Tim holds them there, readjusting them to try and get them to not fall, mumbling a small ‘stay’ before turning back to the meeting table. He opens the binder that he carried between his chin and his collarbone, neatly laying out the papers that he needs for the meeting. The people stay silent, even Lucius, who sits beside him. Tim clears his throat.
“Let’s get started.” He pauses, pulling out a sheet of paper and pointing at it. “As you can see on the paper in from if you, the efficiency in our warehouses has fallen in the last three months, partly due to the loss of three of our warehouses two months back from the Arkham breakout, but the fall started prior to that, likely because of working conditions in the warehouses in San Francisco and New York City.” Tim turns to Lucius to continue, to talk about the influx of healthcare mistakes and the lack of worker protection the two cities seem to have. Before Lucius can speak, another person, about halfway down the table, interrupts them.
“Are you okay, Mr. Drake-Wayne?” The man blurts. Tim freezes.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” He asks quizzically. The man purses his lips.
“Your crutches.” The man points dumbly. Tim stares.
“What about them?” Tim narrows his eyes at the man’s confused gaze.
“You’re using them!” The man exclaims, as if that explains everything. Tim raises an eyebrow.
“Yes, they are typically meant to be used.” The man opens his mouth to speak once more, but Tim holds out a hand. “Let’s get back on track, shall we? Now, as I was saying, the new laws in those two places have made worker safety a more prevalent issue…” Tim drones on, already knowing that this meeting is going to be a long one, especially with how the questions towards his health keeps distracting the other attendees. Tim lets out a sigh, letting Lucius take the lead while Tim tries not to get too worked up.