Chapter Text
Hal landed quietly on a dark Gotham rooftop next to Bruce, who was staring quietly into the middle distance. The man hadn’t been doing well since Jason had been seriously injured by the Joker. After a blow-up fight with Bruce, the boy had gone looking for his biological mother in Ethiopia. He’d found her, and with her came the Joker. Hal had been in space at the time. He re-entered the atmosphere to Bruce’s panicked calls for help.
He’d almost been too late. (He had been too late to save the Joker, though he found it hard to regret that.)
Jason was still recovering, but Leslie assured them that Jason would make nearly a full recovery. He’d have some nerve damage, and due to a head wound, he’d be blind in his left eye, but he was alive.
Without Robin at his side, Batman sometimes seemed to forget that.
That particular evening, he had stopped Two-Face from blowing up every police station in Gotham. He’d had to call in Hal and Nightwing for backup, and they’d still been too slow to stop all of the explosions.
The one station they couldn’t save smouldered on the ground beneath them.
“Hey, Spooky,” Hal greeted quietly. Bruce grunted in response. “Long night, huh?” Bruce grunted again. Hal sighed. There was nothing to do when Bruce got like this but sit with him, offering wordless support until it passed.
“So far, no casualties have been reported due to Nightwing’s evacuation efforts,” Bruce reported stiffly.
“Well, that’s good. I’m glad nobody was hurt.” Bruce grunted again. Hal sighed. After another long silence, Hal got up and started wandering in circles around the rooftop, resolved to give Bruce a few moments to himself.
The light from his lantern ring cast the top of the building in eerie, green light and harsh shadow. Hal’s eyes traced over the lines of the rooftop, catching on an odd shadow poking out from behind the air-conditioning unit. He frowned and silently willed his ring to do a scan.
Human female, age 13, 5’3”. In possession of a digital camera, a skateboard, and 2.5 granola bars. Threat assessment: very low, it informed him. Hal’s frown deepened. Maybe it was the mid-July heat getting to him, but he was pretty sure his ring had just said that there was someone else on the roof and that that someone was 13.
“Hey, kid, I know you’re there,” he called, deciding to let the kid show herself on her own terms. Hesitantly, the kid revealed herself.
Themself, Hal mentally corrected upon viewing the kid’s decidedly masculine clothing and haircut. Could still be a girl, but the ring would give him biological sex, not gender, so he shouldn’t have assumed. He never did with alien life-forms, but it was a harder nut to crack on Earth, having grown up in a conservative family and then being launched straight into military service, where all liberal thoughts go to die.
“Hey there, kiddo,” Hal greeted warmly. Over his shoulder, Bruce appeared, likely having heard the commotion. Nothing drew Batman’s attention like a kid in need.
“Um, hi, Green Lantern,” the kid said cautiously. “Batman.”
“Mind telling us your name?” Hal asked. The kid tensed.
“Tim,” they said shortly.
“And how about your pronouns?” Hal asked again, and some stiffness visibly went out of the kid’s shoulders.
“He/him,” Tim said quietly, the words coming out slowly as if he’d never said them before.
“Cool, me too, and the same for Batman,” Hal said, grinning. Bruce grunted in agreement. “Well, now that that’s settled, mind telling us what you’re doing up here?”
“Yes, actually, I do mind,” Tim said, crossing his arms. Then he sneezed. He blushed, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. Bruce, ever prepared, pulled a pack of tissues from his utility belt and handed one to Tim. “Um, thanks,” the kid said, and then blew his nose.
“Listen, Timbo, as long as you weren’t doing anything bad, we can just take you home and let you off with a warning. But being out in Gotham at night is dangerous, especially on a rooftop next to a building that just exploded.”
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” Tim agreed, laughing awkwardly and looking away. “Well, I was just out skateboarding and taking pictures when the explosion went off. I got scared because I didn’t know where it was coming from, and decided to get to higher ground so I was out of the way of any criminals running around down there,” he said. And though it clearly wasn’t the whole truth, it was likely close enough that Hal could feel comfortable taking him home and hope that a stern warning from the Batman himself would set him straight.
“Alright,” Hal said.
“Do not climb buildings when you have cause for concern about their stability,” Bruce said. Hal chuckled.
“What Spooky means is don’t scale walls you think might fall, ok? And maybe play it safe and stop scaling walls entirely. Especially not in Gotham. At night.”
“Ok,” Tim agreed. “Can I go now?” He asked.
“Sure, I’ll give you a ride,” Hal said.
“Um, thanks,” Tim said hesitantly. “You can just take me to the closest bus stop, though.” Bus stop? Hal thought. This kid is far enough from his house that he needs a bus stop?
“We’d feel better escorting you to your residence so that we can ensure your safe return,” said Bruce.
“Well, that’s nice, but it’s a little far…”
“Can’t be that far if you skateboarded here,” Hal denied.
“Well, maybe, but I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way for me,” Tim said. At Hal’s side, Bruce stiffened, probably worried about the same things Hal was. That the kid was homeless, so he had nowhere to go. Or that the kid’s parents were bad to him, and he didn’t want Green Lantern and Batman to see because at least it was better than Gotham social services. Or even just that the kid’s parents had raised him to think he didn’t deserve basic kindness (maybe because he was trans).
But would a homeless kid have that fancy camera and that expensive skateboard? Would an abused kid be able to begin transitioning openly? Something was wrong, but Hal needed to see it for himself. He couldn’t jump to conclusions, or else he’d hurt the kid more.
“Kid, we just want to make sure you get back to wherever you’re staying safely. Anything past that, it’s none of our business unless you want it to be,” Hal comforted. Tim’s eyes widened.
“Oh no, it’s not like that. I’m not homeless, and my parents… no, my parents are fine. They’re… out of town a lot, but when they’re home they’re… fine.” Hal did not feel reassured by that description.
“Fine” was how Hal normally described how his relationship with Martin Jordan, his dead, abusive father. “Fine” was what he called his depressed, drug-addicted mother when she was asked about by those not in the know. “Fine” was not good. It was not good at all.
Bruce squeezed gently on a fist that Hal hadn’t realized he was clenching. Hal loosened his grip, the red in his vision clearing to reveal Tim’s nervous gaze darting between Hal’s hands and face.
Well, there he went, proving himself correct.
“Tim, we just want to help,” Hal nearly whispered, shoulders slumping. “No matter how ‘fine’ your parents are, we’ll make sure things turn out ok. You can trust us. You can trust me.”
“I… don’t want to go into the foster care system. I’m young, and my parents are rich, and I’m… just different. They’ll hurt me, for one reason or another,” Tim mumbled, picking at his cuticles. A nasty habit if his scabs were anything to go by.
“I know, kid, I’m sorry,” Hal choked out, heartbroken for this terrified little kid who reminded him so much of himself. Bruce placed a comforting hand on Hal’s shoulder and squeezed.
“How about you come with us?” Bruce suggested. Hal froze, and Tim frowned.
“What do you mean?” Tim asked carefully. “Like, back to the Batcave? Because that would be so cool.” The kid’s face was practically glowing with joy at the prospect.
“Uh, would you hold on just a second, kiddo?” Hal asked. Tim nodded quickly, and Hal tugged Bruce to the side.
“What are you thinking, baby?” Hal asked, carefully keeping his tone even and not accusatory.
“I’m thinking that that boy is Timothy Drake. I’m thinking that Jack and Janet Drake have been out of the country for four months, and that Oracle has just told me that there is no record of them having hired a nanny in six years. I’m also thinking you’ve already grown attached to him, and that Bruce Wayne could pretend to be a family friend who took the boy in upon discovering his parents’ criminal negligence.” Hal sucked in a breath.
Taking in another kid when they already had two (one in Blüdhaven, one at home recovering from a near-death experience) would be quite the endeavor. Hell, Hal had just moved in a few weeks prior.
Then again, Bruce was right. Hal was attached, and if the kid’s parents really had been mistreating him, he couldn’t just let that go.
“I was just telling Bruce, but I tracked down Tim’s records for you,” Oracle spoke up over the comms. “It looks like he changed his name and gender all under the table by himself. His parents are generally politically progressive, so they likely approved of the transition, if not of doing it publicly. Hence, Tim did it quietly by hacking the records and altering them to make it look like it’d been done legally. He did it well too; I almost wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t known to look. Impressive, for a kid his age.”
“Also, records show that he’s on HRT and has been since his parents were last in the country, which was six months ago, not four. They were back in Gotham four months ago, but they would have arrived home and left all while Tim was still asleep if these flight records are accurate,” she said, reciting the words with the cold factuality that Hal knew actually meant she was ready to shoot someone. Hal, similarly, felt his blood start to boil. Bruce growled and turned back to Tim.
“You will come with us,” Bruce said. “We have somewhere for you to stay.”
“A-alright…” Tim stuttered, looking overjoyed but queasy about it. “If you’re sure.”
“Of course, I’m sure,” Bruce grunted. “I’m Batman.” Tim’s eyes lit up with glee.
(-0-)(-0-)(-0-)
Back in Wayne Manor about an hour later, Bruce Wayne stumbled down the stairs from “being asleep” to find that Green Lantern standing in his entrance hall with yet another black-haired, blue-eyed young man.
Hal, standing at Tim shoulder, grinned slightly at the sight of his boyfriend’s tired face. His hair was flat in the way it only got from being under the cowl, and the red marks on his cheekbones were subtle, but still noticeable to anyone who knew to look.
“Green Lantern? And… it’s Tim, right? The Drakes’ son. I thought you would have been on the dig with them. What’s going on?” Bruce asked through a yawn, blinking slowly at them.
“Yes, Mr. Wayne, this is Tim Drake. Batman thought it would be best if he stayed with you for the foreseeable future. Batman will handle the police side of things, if you can handle the lawyers,” Hal said.
“Of course, I’ve got plenty of lawyers. They might as well earn all of the money I’m paying them,” Bruce said, squinting. “I’m sorry, I’m still not quite sure what’s going on.”
“Um, Mr. Wayne?” Tim said nervously. “You don’t have to pretend; it’s ok.” Bruce stiffened and then relaxed almost too quickly to catch.
“What do you mean, Tim?”
“I mean, I know you’re Batman. And I’ve extrapolated most of the identities of the Justice League and the Titans using that information. Including Mr. Jordan,” Tim said, voice shaking with nerves. Hal choked on his next breath. Across from him, Bruce’s face was carefully blank. Hal moved to stand next to him so he could look the kid in the face again.
He was scared shitless, clearly. His skin appeared somehow paler than it had on the rooftop, despite him already having been lighter than Bruce. He was chewing on his bottom lip so hard it was starting to swell. The fingers of his left hand played with the fingers of his right.
“I haven’t told anyone, I swear!” He said, his breath starting to pick up. “And I won’t tell anyone, so you can still send me away. I’m not a liability. I’ll even-” he cut himself off with an aborted sob. “I’ll even burn the pictures. Nobody will ever know.”
“Tim. Timbo, kiddo, hey. Hey, calm down,” Hal said, kneeling and taking Tim’s hands into his. He let his power suit dissipate, leaving him in the pajamas he hadn’t had time to change out of before running out to help Bruce. “We’re not going to send you away. Breathe with me, kiddo. Breathe.”
Hal demonstratively took a deep breath and then released it. Then another. And another. He repeated until Tim’s breath had evened out and the crazed glint went out of his eyes.
“You’re… not going to send me away,” Tim repeated. And it wasn’t a question, but he sounded distinctly bewildered.
“No,” Bruce agreed immediately.
“And we won’t even ask you how you know if you don’t feel comfortable telling us yet,” Hal added. “Right, Spooky?” Bruce grunted in reluctant agreement when Hal poked him in the side with a construct.
“And you’re not gonna… make me forget?” Tim asked.
“No, Tim, we’re not,” Bruce said, stiffness in his voice betraying his horror at the very thought. He knelt next to Hal, and Hal released Tim’s shoulder so Bruce could grab it himself. “We want to take care of you, Tim. And we’ll want to take care of you for as long as you’ll allow us. If that’s not what you’ll want, we’ll figure it out. But Tim, what your parents are doing isn’t ‘fine.’”
“I know,” Tim responded weakly.
“Will you let us take care of you?” Hal asked carefully.
Tim gaze went rapidly between them, his big, blue eyes filling with tears. “Ok,” he agreed. Then broke down, sobbing.
Without another word, Bruce scooped him up into his arms and carried him upstairs, Hal following closely on his heels.