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Tim awoke to firm, loud, persistent knocking on his door. He groaned and rubbed his eyes, glaring at his alarm clock, clearly expecting it to be much earlier than 1pm. He pushed off the plaid bedding and groaned loudly, pulling his blinds open to let in the glaring sun.
“I’m coming, Jesus…” Tim called out as he stumbled through the messy boat house, almost tripping over a pile of dirty laundry. He begrudgingly opened the door to be met by his younger brother. Damian had grown taller than Tim, which did slightly piss him off every time he thought about it, perhaps if he hadn’t relied on Zestis to give him a chance of staying awake he wouldn’t have to crane his neck.
“Timothy.” Damian greeted, before being overtaken by a smaller, more animated voice.
“Uncle Timmy!!”
Tim smiled weakly, still half asleep, and reached down to hug his nephew.
“Mor- afternoon Alfie, and Damian. What’re you doing here?” The eldest asked, subconsciously tilting his head and blocking his eyes from the sun as he looked to his brother.
“I am guessing you have no plans for today, therefore I ask that you look after Alfred for a few hours. I have a…an event to attend.”
Judging by the pink undertones taking over Damian’s face, Tim guessed the ‘event’ was a date and far less formal than he was making it out to be. He was a little offended that Damian had assumed that Tim was indeed free but he knew better than to face the embarrassment of challenging the younger.
“Are Bruce and Dick not free?” He asked, letting a little offence drip into his voice.
“If they were, I would not be here.”
Tim considered asking about Jason, then realised that was stupid and sighing.
“Yeah sure, we’ll probably go to my apartment just outside Bristol, it’s not child-proofed in here.” Tim pursed his lips and glanced to the bong, to the underwear chucked on the floor, to the empty alcohol bottles then to the nearly empty pack of cigarettes.
The parent nodded in confirmation. Tim watched passively as he watched Damian squat down to say goodbye to his son, kissing his head and telling him ‘goodbye’s, and ‘I love you’s. Tim had never really considered himself ‘good’ with children, not that he was bad, he was mediocre. The most he had ever looked after a kid was all those years ago on patrol when he would take children to ambulances or their parents.
~✌︎('ω'✌︎ )~
So here Tim was, walking hand in hand across the streets of Gotham with his six year old nephew. He had correctly deemed that walking was much safer than trusting Alfred to balance and hold on properly behind him on his motorbike. And anyways, the streets were much safer and brighter nowadays, all thanks to Damian. It was nice to be able to go on a stroll, whenever, without much worry.
Tim looked down to the kid, who was skipping and humming, what Tim assumed was an Arabian nursery rhyme, happily.
“So, Uhm, what do you like to do, Alfred? We haven’t really hung out before, huh? I’ve only seen you at family dinners.”
“Hmmm…I like going to the park and making new friends, and I like drawing too! Ooo! I like eating ice cream too, especially when miss sun is strong.” Alfred said after a moment of intense consideration.
“That sounds fun, there’s a park near where we’re going, you wanna go there? Then we can get ice cream if you’re good. Have you had lunch yet?” Tim realised that food was probably important, for Alfred, he would be fine.
“Mhm! Daddy made me a mushroom omelette, it’s very yummy. Do you like omelettes? I do, Daddy makes them a lot.” Alfred asked, getting a bit sidetracked, something Tim figured was normal for children.
“They’re okay, I don’t have them that often. I’m not a very good cook.” Tim shrugged as he stopped at a crossing and looked both ways before leading Alfred across.
“Then how do you eat?” He asked curiously, looking up to Tim.
“Mm, my boyfriend, Bernard, I think you’ve met him, he usually makes me food. He works in a restaurant so he’s super good. If he’s not here, like at the moment, I order takeout.”
“Daddy says takeout is bad for you! I’m only allowed it on special days, like birthdays.”
“Well, yeah…it is pretty bad. But you’re very lucky that your daddy can cook. I’ve never been good at it, neither has Bru- Grandpa.”
“Maybe you got that from him! Like how I got Daddy’s hair.” Alfred responded innocently.
Tim pursed his lips and hummed, clearly something had not been given the adoptive memo. “Something like that, Bud. …hey, look, can you see the park?” He successfully diverted the child’s attention as he pointed ahead to an array of climbing frames, colourful slides, swings and chalk drawings. Only a handful of other children were there, meaning Tim would hopefully not have to listen to as much screaming as he supervised from nearby.
“Woah, woah, woah! That’s so cool, can I run ahead? Please, please, please? I’ll be safe.”
“Sorry, Alfie. But I need you to know where I’ll be sat in case you need anything.” Tim explained but caved slightly at the pout covering Alfred’s face. “But maybe we can run to a bench together?”
The boy’s eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically, already tugging his uncle along. Tim quickly adjusted to the slight increase in speed, being careful to avoid bumping into people or falling face first. He played up being out of breath as they reached the bench. The elder sat down and gently let go of Alfred’s hand.
“Okay, come to me if you need anything, try not to get hurt- but it’s not a big deal if you do.” Tim quickly added, realising that telling a child not to get hurt could make them hide it or something, he’s no expert. He watched as Alfred nodded and hurried off to climb the structure, chatting to the other children as he waited for his turn on the slide. He watched a few more minutes for good measure before pulling a book from his bag, deeming that they would be here a while.
And a while it was, Tim had hammered through 2 chapters before he felt a tug on his sleeve.
“Uncle Timmy? I’m done playing now! I bumped my knee a little but I’m a big boy so it doesn’t hurt!” Alfred put his hands on his hips proudly as he looked up at Tim with a sparkle in his eye. Something about the sight pulled at Tim’s chest, maybe he could have a kid one day, if Bernard would like. He tucked the bookmark in the page and shoved the book into his backpack, shovelling the thought away for later.
“That’s okay, Alfie. Were you a good boy with the other kids?”
“Mhm! Mhm!”
“Do you remember what I said earlier??”
“Good boys get ice cream? Please, please, please?”
Tim smiled softly at the boy and nodded, standing up and pointing to the nearby ice cream stand that over looked a large pond filled with ducks and weeds. “Is over there okay? We can get some food for the ducks too, if you like?”
“Yeah, please! Are they friendly ducks?” Alfred asked, already excitedly moving out the park to the pond.
“Probably, I don’t think ducks are usually unfriendly.” Tim nodded “What ice cream flavour do you want?”
“Uhm, I really like mint chocolate chip, please.”
“And a flake?” The youngest instantly nodded excitedly and peered over the counter as Tim greeted the lady behind the counter.
“Afternoon, can I please get a kid’s mint chocolate chip with a flake, a tub of duck food and….” Tim briefly glanced over the flavours “…a rum and raisin, please.” Rum and raisin? Tim had been trying to ignore the grey hairs he had started to find on his pillow, refusing to acknowledge his rising age. But ordering rum and raisin ice cream? That was undeniable evidence of old status. Whatever, 32 isn’t even middle aged.
He pushed down the feeling and tapped his card against the machine, the ludicrous prices barely chipping at his bank account yet he was still blown away that they were allowed to charge this much. He handed Alfred his smaller ice cream before grabbing his own and the small pot of assorted seeds.
Tim led his nephew to a bench, sitting side by side with the duck food between them. They sat in silence for a few minutes until Alfred had officially devoured his ice cream and was now eyeing up the ducks. Tim sighed and handed Alfred the duck food, moving with him so he could easily stop the boy from falling into the murky water.
“You have to approach them slowly, okay? Otherwise they might be scared. You can let them eat from your hand or the pot if you want? Or you can chuck it for them to swim for.” Tim squatted by the water, fairly close to the water birds. Alfred nodded, testing the waters by chucking a small pinch in the water, then pouring a little on the floor then gaining the confidence to sit with the ducks and hold the food out.
He giggled loudly as beaks swarmed the cardboard, dipping in and out, clearing the food in just a few seconds. Tim watched fondly, a small smile forcing itself (without much defence) onto his face. “Look Uncle Timmy! They love it!”
Tim’s smile grew wider at the boy’s enthusiasm. “Mhm! They sure do, I bet it’s their favourite food.” He nodded as he gently took the empty cup from Alfred’s hands, shoving it into his bag, ‘for a trash can on the way back’. He dug further through his bag and retrieved a pack of tissues, using one to wipe the remains of ice cream from Alfred’s mouth.
“Okay! I don’t know when your dad is getting you, so we should probably head to my apartment.” Tim brushed off his dark jeans as he stood up, holding his finger out for Alfred to hold. The boy nodded and instantly straightened up, grabbing Tim’s finger.
“Do you think there’s room for nap time?” Alfred asked with a slight yawn, that he clearly was trying to stiffle.
“There’s always room for nap time, that’s uncle Timmy’s number one motto.” Tim replied proudly. “It’s only a five minute walk, can you hold on till then?” He asked as he guided Alfred out the park and back to the streets.
“Mhm…what’s a mot-to?”
“A motto is like a catchphrase. Like how in Pokémon, Ash always says ‘pikachu, I choose you’. I always say ‘there’s always room for nap time’.” He explained gently, which seemed to work as an ample explanation for Alfred.
The rest of the walk was spent in a comfortable silence, and shortly ended as they reached the lesser used apartment. Tim flicked through his his rings of keys before slotting one into the door and successfully unlocking it with a small ‘aha!’.
“Do you want to sleep in my bed?” Tim asked as he gently shut the door, leading the sleepy boy to the bedroom once all shoes had been removed. “You can sleep in the big bed, all to yourself.” Alfred nodded and rubbed his eyes as he climbed into the bed, his eyes already fluttering closed and his breath already evening out. Tim deemed the boy fine without a blanket on quietly crept out to the living room.
Tim collapsed on the sofa, deciding to take the opportunity to sleep himself. He had managed to stay awake for 3 hours, what a record.
~✌︎('ω'✌︎ )~
Tim woke up in a familiar fashion as before, the persistent knocking being replaced for impatient ringing from his doorbell. He stumbled off the sofa, trying to stay quiet as he opened the door. “Hey Damian..” He croaked sleepily.
“Timothy, where is my son?” Damian instantly demanded, pushing into the apartment.
“Chill, he wanted a nap so he’s in the bedroom. He wore himself out at the park. We got ice cream but he hasn’t had anything else to eat, or drink, fuck, I probably should’ve gotten him a drink, huh?” Tim mumbled, watching as Damian left to the bedroom, returning a few moments later with a sleeping child on his hips.
“Yes, you should have. But he is in a better state than I would expect Jason to leave him in, ergo alive, therefore I deem you have done a satisfactory job.”
Tim smiled, even as Damian had grown kinder to everyone else, he still stubbornly remained surface level rude towards Tim, so he took this as high praise. “Thank you, Damian. See you Saturday for family dinner?”
Damian nodded curtly as he moved out the door, cradling his son as he gently shut the door