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vikingpoteto · 4 years

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we don’t have to dance (to the beat of their songs)

Chapter 2 on AO3

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Relationships: (Gen) Tim Drake & Jason Todd

Tags: Battle for the Cowl, Alternate Canon, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Neglect, Domestic Fluff, Canon is not valid I am, and I want them to be friends goddamnit

Summary: In the middle of their battle, Jason asks Tim to leave the nest and be his Robin. Tim decides it's not a bad idea, after all. ________________________

When Tim wakes up, he thinks he’s hallucinating. Partly because his almost everything hurts, and whatever else left feels tender and sore. Mostly because he thinks Robin is rescuing him. That can’t be right, though. Dick Grayson hasn’t been Robin — or that small — for many years. Jason Todd certainly hasn’t…

Tim groans. Jason. He was supposed to solve things. He was supposed to fix things up after Jason was gone. Deal with the damage when Jason got back. Give Jason another chance because he knew Robin — his Robin — couldn’t be that bad.

“Come on, you deadweight,” Robin mumbles. “How pathetic can you get? You don’t have any mortal wounds. What are you doing, napping on the dirty ground like that?”

Well, that certainly is not Dick Grayson. First because Dick could never sound that obnoxious. And the small detail that Tim knows Dick is an adult man now.

“Damian…?” he mutters numbly.

“We got ya, mate,” another familiar voice, this one lot friendlier. Squire.

Tim is out again in a matter of seconds, utterly confused about the fact that Squire is there and Damian is dressed as Robin. All he knows is that he failed utterly and completely. He was supposed to fix things, and somehow he made everything worse. Everything that went downhill started with Tim Stupid Drake letting his useless ass get into a mess he was never prepared for. Jack used to tell him to be proud of himself in the same breath he told him his arrogance was unbecoming. Children are supposed to be seen, not heard.

He lets unconsciousness take him. His last thought is that he hopes he doesn’t wake up, so that he doesn’t have to deal with all the consequences of his mistakes.

Then Tim wakes up, because Tim can never get what he wants. At first, he doesn’t remember where he is and why everything hurts so much. Did he oversleep? That would make sense. He found out that, if he went for too long without sleep, by the time he eventually crashed his body would stay unconscious for way too long, and he would wake up all stiff and sore.

With a bit of effort, he starts opening his eyes. The first thing he notices is that he’s at the cave. It wouldn’t be the first time he passed out there, but…

Oh, that’s right. He fought Jason again. He got his ass handed back to him again. He barely remembered what happened; all he knew is that he took a huge risk and it didn’t pay off. Dick must have saved him after all — leaving that note letting him know Tim was going to do something stupid was, in retrospect, actually smart.

He blinks slowly and turns to the side when he hears familiar voices. If Dick is coming to check on him, Tim must make sure to apologize for his recklessness and thank him profusely. He knew there was a huge chance of him being a hindrance rather than useful, but he took the chance anyway.

Instead of Dick, however, it’s Batman who walks into his field of vision. Tim freezes. So he finally accepted it. Dick decided to take the cowl after all. Tim almost smiles in relief — the fact that his jaw is throbbing certainly keeps his expression in check — because that’s a good thing, right? If his mess of a plan resulted in Dick finally stepping up to the task, then it had been worth it.

(Part of him feels a little guilty. Dick repeatedly said that he didn't want to be Batman but... This is fine, right? Dick is the only one who can. The only one good enough. This will be good for him, too… right?)

It doesn’t look like Dick noticed Tim is awake. He walks to the batmobile with practiced fortitude and, for a moment, he looks so much like Bruce that Tim feels a lump in his throat. The fanboy in him also laments that he’s about to miss Dick’s first patrol as Batman — it has to be the first, there’s no way a simple beatdown got Tim asleep for longer than a night — and he considers calling out and asking to tag along anyway, as unlikely as it is that he’ll get an yes.

Then a smaller person stalks into view, and the lump in Tim’s throat positively doubles in size: it’s Robin. Robin, wearing a smaller version of Tim’s uniform. Younger, newer, stronger, better. The arrogance in his posture is familiar, and even if it wasn’t there are very few suspects. Damian Wayne is wearing the Robin uniform. Damian Wayne is getting in the batmobile with Dick Grayson. A new Batman, a new Robin. Tim struggles to sit up, but neither hero notices him. They take off, the sound of the engine revving up drowning Tim’s pathetic attempt at speaking up.

“Master Timothy!”

Strong hands grab him by the shoulders, hauling him up before Tim even realizes he was falling from the cot. He lets Alfred delicately adjust him back into a semi-comfortable position for half a second before he springs back up.

“What — ” he croaks, his voice horribly hoarse from lack of use. “Al…”

“My boy, breathe,” Alfred commands, again holding him still. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

Except nothing is alright. Tim resists and, hurt as he is, he could’ve easily got himself free. Not without hurting Alfred, though, and Tim doesn’t think he could do that even if his life depended on it. Instead, he squirms uselessly until Alfred finally manages to push him back into his pillow.

“Master Timothy, don’t make me tie you to the bed. You know I’m not above it if you’re being unreasonable.”

“Batman and Robin left,” Tim protests, his voice betraying his confusion. It almost sounds as though he’s in fear.

Something flashes across Alfred’s face — worry? — but it vanishes fast enough, giving place to the expression a father wears while gently, but firmly chastising his child.

“If you let me check your vitals, I’ll gladly inform you of what happened while you were unconscious. Do we have a deal? Will you stay put if I let you go?”

Tim slowly nods. Alfred takes a step back. The boy sits up, but he does so carefully. A sign that he’s tired of lying down rather than a rebellion. Alfred accepts that with a satisfied smile before turning to the medical supplies that had been carefully placed by Tim’s cot. Vitals check is a process they’ve done enough times that neither needs to pay full attention to it.

“So?” Tim requests. Demands.

“You’ve been resting for almost 17 hours. You don’t have any serious wounds, so I reckon your prolonged rest was caused by sheer exhaustion rather than actual injuries.” Alfred gives him a pointed look.

Tim ignores it. “What happened to Jason?”

Those words have an effect on the butler, whose shoulders go stiff even if he does his best to hide his discomfort.

“I’m sure Master Dick can tell you in better detail when he returns. The short version is… we don’t know where he is.” At this point, he pauses, as though measuring his words carefully, or as though he doesn’t want to admit what he has to tell Tim next. Tim doesn’t pressure him.“He fought Master Dick and lost. We believe he thought you were gone. Master Damian was able to rescue you, thankfully.”

Tim doesn’t think Jason was stupid enough to think he was dead. Especially because Tim wasn’t even trying to pretend to be dead. He could’ve. Bruce had taught him how. It didn’t even occur to him to do so, because, despite everything, it was Jason. Jason was a Robin. He was angry, sure, and Tim didn’t fully blame him. Not after he heard Bruce’s testament.

However, for once, Jason isn’t Tim’s main concern.

“Damian didn’t rescue me,” he says. “Robin did.”

Alfred pretends the task of making sure Tim doesn’t have a concussion is a lot more demanding than it really is. He’s clearly avoiding the accusation in Tim’s voice.

“Seems like you’re all good, my boy. Your head is more resistant than it seems, it looks like. I should warn you that one of your teeth has been broken, though.”

“Alfred…”

The butler sighs. “It’s not my place to tell you about Master Dick’s decisions, Master Timothy,” he says and Tim’s stomach sinks. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you once he returns.”

Except it is Alfred’s place. It is exactly his place, his right. Tim never quite understood why Alfred chooses to stand on the sidelines. Alfred knows damn well he isn’t simply an employee, he’s family. His snide remarks and gentle chastising are one thing, but, when push comes to shove, Alfred tends to only offer advice when asked for. He lets them sort themselves out. If he wanted, he could do more, get the others to do more, or at least Tim is almost sure of it. Could it be that he got tired of being ignored by Bruce by the time the kids joined the crusade? Does it have anything to do with Jason’s death, like most of the problems in the family seem to revolve around?

At another time, Tim would’ve asked. As it is now, there is something gnawing at Tim’s gut, a feeling of inadequacy he hadn’t felt in quite a few years. When was the last time? When he was just starting as Robin? When Jason first tried to kill him? It was a swarm of butterflies in his stomach, and not the good kind, that started bugging him when Damian appeared but it didn’t bloom into an all out ache until tonight.

Tim felt the urge to go home as though he was overstaying his welcome in a stranger’s house, but his ride was late and there was nothing he could do about it. As though he was a meddling boy forcing himself into the life of a grieving man against his will. As though he had to work twice as hard, be three times as useful to make up for the fact that he was an unwanted appendix.

He doesn’t say anything else until Alfred clears him. He takes the pain medicine the butler gives him, even though he didn’t need them. He can barely feel the soreness of his body by now.

The next hours are a blur. Tim knows he takes off the rest of the uniform. He has half a mind to cringe at how painful it must have been to Alfred to treat him while he’s wearing Batman’s colors. He changes into his own clothes before going upstairs.

His room at Wayne manor doesn’t look like anything like his former room. His space used to be sacred, papers scared around among piles of dirty clothing and old comics. Some of the contents were incriminating, notes of cases Tim had no business meddling in, but it didn’t matter because uncaring maids wouldn’t bother reading and neither would his parents. The only things Tim bothered hiding were the pictures he took of Batman and Robin, because those were not his secrets to be reckless with.

Looking around at the room he’s occupying, there’s no mess on the floor. No dirty laundry in sight. His photography gear is neatly put away on a shelf — when was the last time he took pictures just for fun? — and his school books are lined up for easy access. Even the pile of papers on the desk were organized in a chaotic way. It looks less like a room where you live in and more like a guest room. Like when you’re staying over at a friend’s house and you’re overzealous of your belongings to make sure your presence is not a hassle.

He thinks of his room back at Titans Tower. He had no secrets there, no worries about hiding documents or anything of the sort. Even when his teammates didn’t know his real name, they knew him. He was Robin and that was enough. Being Robin was enough.

(Except Young Justice is no more and Tim doesn’t think they can get back together. Not with Kon and Bart gone.)

Tim wonders if that means he always knew he wasn’t meant to stay. Then he shakes his head. This is his family. It isn’t that different from when he lived with his father, after all, the only difference is that then there were less people minding his secrets, so he didn’t have to be as careful. He is Tim Wayne now. This is all he has.

He does have it, right?

Dick said they’d be okay. Dick was the first person to fully accept him. Maybe it had started out of misplaced love, a way to compensate that he hadn’t been there for Jason, but Tim accepted what he could get and Dick had been his brother since.

Tim stays in his room for too long, but it feels like no time has passed when he hears the telltale noise of the grandfather clock moving downstairs. Someone is leaving the cave.

The boy hesitates, thinking himself selfish for a moment. A voice in his mind that sounds painfully like Kon’s tells him to stop being stupid. Tim reminds himself that this is his home, this is his family… This is his life . It’s not perfect, but you only work with what you get.

It’s not surprising to him that Dick’s at the computer when he gets into the cave. Bruce drilled into their heads that you always write a report as soon as you’re able. Unless you’re injured, reporting after patrol takes priority over everything. Even Tim and Barbara, known for their photographic memory, weren’t exempt of that rule.

It’s not surprising.

Then why is Tim so angry? Dick doesn’t owe him anything. Surely Alfred told him Tim was fine. Checking on him was unnecessary and.. and it was what Dick would’ve done a couple of months ago.

“Hey,” Tim calls and it sounds harsher than he meant.

Dick startles before turning around. It’s somehow unsettling to see the man in the Bat cowl show such a human emotion and that somehow makes Tim angrier.

“Tim,” Dick starts, the shadow of a smile on his lips. “Alfred said…”

“You gave my old uniform to Damian,” Tim cuts him off.

This is not what he planned. He was supposed to ask Dick for an explanation calmly. There’s now another voice in his mind — should he be worried about those? — and this one sounds like Janet Drake’s telling him that it’s unbecoming to bark like that. He should keep his emotions in check. And yet.

“You said we’d be okay,” he grits out. “My entire life has burnt down. Again. I don’t call this okay, Dick. ”

And this is Dick’s problem, how? Tim wonders. His mind’s Kon tells him that Dick is his brother. His mind’s Jack Drake tells him real men don’t whine like that.

Dick sighs. “He’s my responsibility now. You’re not my protege, Tim, you’re my equal. My closest ally. You’ll be okay. But him? You know better than anyone that left on his own, he’s going to kill again. You have to understand…”

“I don’t,” Tim cuts him off again, unusually impatient. This isn’t selfish, right? This is his. He knows it, because other than the mission... “This is all I have now.”

“Oh,” another voice joins them, “you’re still here?”

You’ve got to be kidding.

Tim turns around and sees red. There’s the demon child in Tim’s colors spewing crap about upgrading security to keep out outsiders. Tim knows he says something, but he doesn’t remember what (he hopes he didn’t reveal anything he didn’t want Dick to know) and he tries to leave. (He can’t bear to see that.) Damian keeps running his mouth. (Tim already knows he doesn’t belong, maybe a part of him always knew). Dick doesn’t intervene.

Not until Tim is trying to knock a tooth out of the brat’s gargantuan mouth.

The message is clear: Tim served his purpose. He isn’t a priority anymore.

When he storms off, there are no more meddling voices in his mind but his own. He can tell Dick is calling his name and he remembers a time in which he thought he was temporary. At first he had asked Dick to come back, only taking the mantle of Robin when Dick told him to. Tim accepted it, deciding he would be Robin for as long as Batman needed him and retire as soon as someone more fit of the mantle arrived.

This has always been the plan. It’s no one’s fault but Tim’s that he had forgotten it. That he allowed a temporary arrangement to take over his life - to the point where, not that the time is up, he’s left on his own. That the rightful owner took back a mantle Tim had borrowed.

Tim used to be alone all the time. This isn’t uncharted territory.

#red robin #tim drake #nighwting #dick grayson #batfam #damian wayne #robin #poteto writing #batfam fanfic #we don't have to dance

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loljulie · 5 years

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title: bet on it

genre: borderlands

timothy lawrence x reader

word count: 2522

(am i really making timothy lawrence imagines now?? yes, yes i am. just to put this piece of work into a clearer setting:

Y/N is CEO of hyperion now because she was decently close to jack before he died, and he promised his position to her. she is a much nicer CEO than him, and when she got power she def absolved timothy’s contract but he stayed with her anyway because, cute love or whatever.

timothy is kinda flustered, kinda confident in this because in this AU he’s had a lot of time to explore who he is without jack around

i really have this whole character’s backstory planned out so maybe expect more imagines in the future as i explore their relationship?? also don’t come @ me about the title it’s midnight and i couldn’t be clever, but Y/N and timothy watch a spaceball game and it’s just baseball in space because, once again, i’m not clever)

Tired fingers stretched across the keyboard, typing up an email you had been pushing off nearly all day. You sighed as you held down the backspace key and deleted the previous minute’s work, not quite liking how your sentence sounded. Being CEO was awesome as hell for the most part, but you as you stared at the blinking cursor, you suddenly loathed the title.

The door to your office opened. You didn’t need to look up to know who it was, as there was only one person who was allowed to walk in unannounced.

“Ah, perfect timing - I needed somebody to blow my brains out so I don’t have to write this damn email,” you muttered as Tim’s footsteps came to a halt in front of your desk.

“It sounds like I should’ve come earlier, then,” he commented, and you finally tore your eyes away from the illuminated screen to look at him. You were slightly surprised to see him in more casual clothes than he normally wore, as he sported a short-sleeved shirt with Hyperion’s logo across it and jeans. It fit him very well, so much so that you got mildly distracted staring at him. “The spaceball game is about to start, so we’d better hurry.”

“The - what?” You asked, your eyes narrowing at the unfamiliar word.

“Spaceball, remember?” He repeated in a more questioning tone. When he saw that you still didn’t understand, he went on. “You signed off on the request for some workers to form their own teams and play against each other at the end of the fiscal quarter - which happens to be today.”

He didn’t need to remind you of that; the email addressed to accounting was still waiting to be written. You let out a large sigh and rubbed your hands over your eyes.

“I totally forgot, babe,” you mumbled between your hands. “I don’t think I can make it, this email-“

“Can be sent tomorrow,” Tim gently goaded as he walked around your desk to get to you. “The workers have been training all quarter long for this and an appearance from their CEO would help their morale for next quarter.”

You didn’t speak, just let out a soft grunt to let him know you heard. He had a point, after all.

“And, from the looks of it, the CEO could use some morale too.” You felt his hands envelope your own as he moved them away from your face. “You’ll work yourself to death one day, you know.”

You looked into his beautiful heterochromatic eyes and attempted one more weak protest.

“I don’t even know what spaceball is - I just signed it so our employee health and wellness budget went somewhere useful.”

Tim wrapped his hands around your wrist and slowly brought you up to your feet. Though you brought up reasons to not go, you and him both knew that you’d ultimately cave in to his demands. He was the only one who could chide you into taking time off for yourself when you forgot to; and without him, you probably would’ve gone delirious.

“I’ll explain it all on the way down, pumpkin,” he assured. You lifted your hands from his grip to grab your coat from the back of your chair.

Your uniform was all designed by your assistant, and you had to admit she did an impeccable job. Despite it being a black long coat, the material was light and breathable; the inside was lining was a smooth, silky yellow, and a golden “H” pin adorned the space above your left breast.

While it had the option to be buttoned, you left it open to reveal your white, collared shirt which tucked perfectly into your high-waisted black pants.

Really, you would’ve prefered your outfit from your prior-Hyperion-CEO days, but Denise insisted that you dress the part for your employees. The heeled boots you wore made you feel badass enough to accept the change to your wardrobe.

You began to walk in pace with Tim, who managed to interlock his left hand with your right one as you made your way to the elevator down the hall from your office.

“So, the batter has to hit the ball and run to first base…”

As the elevator slowly descended the space station, you listened intently to Tim’s description of whatever “spaceball” was. Games and recreation of that sort were never something you enjoyed growing up, which meant almost all aspects of the game were confusing to you.

“Wait, so how many times do the teams switch spots?” You asked after he explained what it took to have the different teams switch sides.

“Well, there’s 9 innings, so -”

“9? Why do they need so many?” You asked, incredulous. “Who came up with that number?”

“I, uh…” Tim trailed off, his eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “I actually don’t know, that’s just the number.”

The elevator doors opened, and the two of you stepped out into an old storage bay that had been transformed into a makeshift stadium of sorts. Tim had mentioned that they only had time and space to build half of a stadium, but its appearance still stunned you nonetheless. You were surprised to see just how many people made up the audience alone; rows and rows of seats piled to the ceiling were filled with employees (and family members, you had to guess, because there was no way Hyperion had that many workers).

Tim gently guided you away from the main ramp that audience members were still funneling into, and up a flight of stairs. After entering the door at the top of the stairs, you were met with a moderately sized room - one big enough for plush seating for two and a table in the back for refreshments. A large window revealed the interior of the stadium below, and you realized that you were placed above home base. In the middle of the ledge was a microphone that, you guessed, was placed there in case you needed to make any announcements.

The opposite side of the stadium, where the wall would have normally been empty and barren, was decorated with a large screen that displayed a countdown. You walked to the front of the window, and gazed out at the people below and around you.

Some employees had been watching the box for your arrival, and though you didn’t recognize most of them, they still seemed to be delighted by your presence. Those who noticed you quickly turned to their seat partners and, soon enough, more pairs of eyes looked your way.

The teams, which were out in the concrete field throwing a couple balls around, noticed your arrival too. The only way to distinguish the two different teams was the fact that half of the men on the field had on a black shirt with yellow trimmings, and the other a yellow shirt with black trimmings.

A member of the black-shirted team caught your gaze and winked at you; had you been your predecessor, that would’ve undoubtedly been the man’s last action.

“So, who’s going against who?” You asked as Tim sidled up next to you at the window.

“Well, instead of having two departments go head to head, I thought it’d better promote interdependent teamwork and have a mixture of employees on each team,” he answered as he rested his forearm against the ledge and leaned his tall body forward.

“Look at you,” you chirped, mimicking his position while you moved close enough to touch shoulders. “Maybe you should be CEO instead.”

“Yeah, no thanks, I’m good,” Tim hastily replied, causing you to chuckle at his obvious disinterest.

Below, an announcer began to tell everyone to take their seats as the players got into their positions. The digital countdown vanished, and instead showed a live feed of some of the players getting ready.

“Who do you think’s going to win?” You asked as you scanned the players below, wondering your own answer to the question.

“Black, definitely. I’ve seen their practices and, based on the numbers, they’ve got this in the bag.”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips at his response. Tim, looking suddenly offended by your reaction, bumped into your shoulder. “What?”

“I just can’t believe you’re nerdy enough to calculate that,” you commented, giving him a playful shove back. A smile tugged at Tim’s lips as you let out another laugh.

“Since you’re going black, I’ll root for yellow,” you decided as the first team came to bat. “Gotta go for the underdog.”

“Really? You confident enough to bet on it?” Tim asked, his voice laced with a smugness you rarely heard. It spurred you to challenge him even more.

“Of course I am. What are we betting?”

“A kiss?”

“Too lame,” you dismissed. When you saw his mock look of shock, you continued. “There’s not enough risk involved there. What about winner gets to choose whatever the loser has to wear the next time we’re alone together?”

A red blush crept onto Tim’s cheeks. You felt a smirk appear on your face at his reaction, glad to know you could still make him redden after all this time.

“Deal.” Despite his flushed face, Tim’s voice was steady as he held out his hand for you to shake. You gripped his hand tightly, and met his eyes with a fiery gaze. You couldn’t wait to prove him wrong.

So far, you weren’t doing a good job at that. As the 4th inning came to a close, the black team was ahead by 4 points. Tim, who sat next to you, radiated an aura of smugness you needed to see defeated.

“I told ya, (Y/N), the numbers don’t lie.”

You sat on the edge of the seat, though you had started watching the game in Tim’s embrace. Your jacket had long been discarded on the chair behind you, and your sleeves were rolled up as if watching the game had been some sort of manual labor. The threat of losing a bet to your boyfriend was becoming more and more real, and it was something you couldn’t let happen.

You got up just as the teams began to switch out and a short, loud song played as you made your way to the window. After switching the microphone on, the music subsided, and you began to speak.

“Yellow team, this is your boss speaking.” You felt a thousand pairs of eyes land on you, including the one pair on the back of your head. “I have the utmost faith in you and I believe that you will win this goddamn game. Make me proud, boys.”

You switched the microphone off as about half of the audience cheered and whooped in agreement. Tim’s eyebrows were raised as you sat back down in your seat, allowing yourself to lean somewhat into his side.

“Worried you might lose the bet?” He asked.

“Why, are you already imagining what you’ll have me wear?” You retorted, knowing full well that your words would cause a blush to rise on his cheeks and effectively knock him down a peg.

You angled your neck up slightly to look at him, which confirmed your prediction. Though the wave of competitiveness was still strong inside you, the opportunity to mess with your boyfriend a little bit more was too strong for you to ignore. You planted a kiss just below his ear, and whispered, “because I’m already doing the same for you.”

When you placed another kiss on his neck, you felt Tim gulp as his arm tensed around you.

Your pep talk clearly had done some good for the yellow team, as their performance drastically improved. Tim expressed his shock to you multiple times as they gained point after point, eventually surpassing the black team’s score. By the end of the 8th inning, you settled comfortably in your seat knowing there was no chance the black team could claim a victory.

As the players switched again to start the 9th inning, the giant screen began to focus on a couple in the crowd. A pink border framed the live feed and text in the bottom corner read “Kiss Cam!” The couple in the video smiled, gave a quick peck, and the camera moved to another couple.

You smiled as you watched the various couples respond differently to being put up on the kiss cam; some were embarrassed and shy, while others embraced the attention and showed off their partners. Every time a couple was featured, the audience would cheer and clap for them. It seemed that, as weird and foreign as this event was to you at first, it really did help build morale.

As you watched the couple on the screen laugh with each other after sharing a modest kiss, the scene changed once more and you realized you were staring at you and Tim, cuddled next to each other. The audience grew louder than you thought possible in their cheers and screams, and you felt your heartbeat quicken as you looked at Tim.

You remembered how, when you first started your relationship with him, everything had to be kept secret in fear of what Jack’s reaction might be; even after it all had passed, and everybody knew who the CEO was dating, you still kept public displays of affection at a minimum.

Yet, with how Tom gazed at you and the cheering of the crowd, you wanted nothing more than to give in to the desire to kiss him. He must have known what was on your mind by the way your face relaxed, because soon Tim’s lips were on yours for the first time that night. His slender fingers curled into your hair as he lightly kept your face against his.

You didn’t think the crowd could have gotten any louder, but the instant your lips touched Tim’s, an unbelievable uproar of claps and whistles ensued. It didn’t make much sense to you why seeing your boss kiss her boyfriend was so exciting, but frankly, their reaction gave you all the more reason to continue.

Eventually, the audience died down, and you pulled away just long enough to see the camera instead focus back on the game itself. You looked back at Tim, who was red in the face and out of breath.

“Should we go back to watching the game?” You asked, though you saw in Tim’s eyes that spaceball was the last thing he wanted to pay attention to, despite how excited he had been about it before.

“Absolutely not.” And, as if to cement his answer, he brought his lips back onto yours and used his free arm to pull you onto his lap.

You didn’t remember anything from the 9th inning other than Tim’s warm lips, tight grip, and soft hair. You were sure people were still occasionally watching the CEO’s box, so you reluctantly made sure the two of you didn’t get too far. You did, however, promise Tim that the two of you would finish what you started later that night.

And, for the record, the yellow team totally won.

#borderlands #timothy lawrence #timothy lawrence x reader #borderlands imagines

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digidetective-shararaizel · 7 years

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Parent Troubles

Summery: Jack has found out about Tim's nightly activities as Robin and blames Tony for being a bad influence. Tonight, Tim gets to see his bio-dad and the Bats out of uniform while attending a fundraiser gala, but they're not the only people he finds himself reunited with.Takes place a few months some time after No Man's Land but before the events of the Avengers movie.

I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out. Like the last two, it ended up longer than originally intended. It's also not as fluffy as I wanted, but we do get to see Barbara, Steph and Cass for the first time. Let me know how I do.

Full series AO3 link

My Master List for Fan Fiction

Parent Troubles

2012

Cassandra and Stephanie had Tim in tow as They made their way through the ballroom looking for Tony Stark so that Tim could introduce them. Tim was a bit nervous. He wasn’t sure how they’d react to his dad or how he would react to them. A lot had happened over the last six months in Gotham during No Man’s Land and all that had happened afterward. Namely, what had happened nearly a month ago, after Jack found out that Tim was Robin. No. That Tim had been Robin. He wasn’t anymore. Steph was Robin now because Jack hadn’t taken it well and Batman needed a Robin. Tim and his father had argued a lot and Jack had yelled at Tony over the phone about it too. He blamed Tony for putting ideas in Tim’s head about becoming a superhero.

When he’d managed to secretly meet up with Dick after school one day and told him what had happened, the older vigilante had found it amusing that Jack seemed to blame Tony more for Tim becoming Robin than he did Batman. Tim didn’t find it funny at all. It wasn’t Tony’s fault. Tony had had nothing to do with his decision to become Robin, though Jack didn’t seem to think so and had forbid Tim from seeing Tony. He’d even confiscated Tim’s Stark Phone. Not that it had stopped JARVIS from hacking into his new phone, or Jason from dropping by when no one but Tim was at home, but Jack didn’t need to know that. Essentially, Tim hadn’t seen Tony since that trip he’d made last fall and found out that Jason Todd was living and recuperating at the Stark Manor in Malibu. That seemed like forever ago. No Man’s Land had happened right after that and everything just seemed to come to a head and led to Jack finding out his secret.

Now Tim was attending a city fundraiser gala with Jack and Dana (his new stepmom) where (surprise!) Cass and Steph had found him and dragged him off to find Tony. Tim was surprised that Jack and Dana let him go, but - then again - neither of them knew that the girls were Batgirl and the new Robin or, apparently, that Tony was in Gotham that night. They’d probably just assumed that they were friends of Tim’s from school wanting to hang out.

When Tim finally spotted Tony, he wasn’t surprised to see Jason “Peters” lurking in the background while Tony made small talk with some other big-wig out-of-town donators for the night’s fundraiser. Jason also happened to be scowling at a cheerful looking Dick Grayson who was saying something that only seemed to irritate Jason more. Tim smiled fondly at the sight and realized that if Barbara and Bruce were around then the whole “Bat Family” (as Tony liked to refer to them as) would be present.

“Hey, Tim.”

Ah. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, as they say.

“Hi, Barbara,” Tim said, turning to smile at the lovely young redheaded woman as she pulled up in her wheelchair next to them followed by none other than Bruce Wayne himself and Alfred Pennyworth. Cassandra moved to Barbara’s side in an instant and gave her mentor a hug.

“Bruce. Alfred,” Tim said, greeting the two men.

“Tim,” Bruce said back with a bright Brucie Wayne smile. “It’s good to see you. How have you and your father been faring?”

“We’re alright,” Tim sighed with a smile. “Still working through some things, but we’re good.”

“That’s good to hear, Master Timothy,” Alfred said genially with his usual small smile.

“Get away from me, Dickface,” Jason suddenly said loud enough to get their attention as he stomped over towards them. Tim was a little surprised when Jason stopped next to him and gave him a playful nudge with his elbow. “Sup, Replacement?”

“Jason,” Tim sighed, smiling wryly at the older teen.

“Aww! Little Wing!” Dick whined with a pout as he joined them, but Jason moved to make sure Tim stayed between them. This both irritated and amused Tim, though he could see Stephanie eyeing Jason wearily. Her first encounter with Jason had happened shortly after she’d become the new Robin and Jason had started returning to Gotham regularly as the Red Hood. It really hadn’t gone well. Red Hood hadn’t exactly beat her up or tried to kill her like he had when he and Tim had first met, but he hadn’t been particularly civil either. There had been an epic rooftop brawl though, from what he’d heard from both parties. Jason hadn’t taken Tim’s quitting the vigilante life very well.

“No! I’m done dealing with you,” Jason growled. “Go pester someone else. Don’t make me shoot you.”

“Tony didn’t give you that side arm to shoot people for being irritating, Jay,” Tim sighed.

Jason tisked, but since he hadn’t made a move for the permitted side arm they all knew he was carrying no one was worried about his idle threat.

“Dick,” Barbara said sternly, “don’t be an ass.”

Dick chuckled, flashing Jason a devilish grin, but stopped playing ring-around-the-Timmy with him and settled behind Barbara’s wheelchair so that he could give her a playful peck on the cheek.

Jason huffed, and crossed his arms before bumping his shoulder with Tim’s. “How’s civilian life treating ya?”

Tim snorted. “How do you think? I know you and Tony have been keeping tabs on me. You’re as bad as Babs and Bruce.”

“Hey!” Barbara cried, though Bruce looked more amused than irritated by the comment.

“It’s because we care, Timmy,” Tony’s voice suddenly said before the man’s arm wrapped around Tim’s shoulders when he came up behind him.

“Yeah, nothing says that more than a daily cellphone hack and a dozen or so hidden cameras in my room,” Tim deadpanned, though everyone only grinned obnoxiously at him.

Tony laughed before letting Tim go, allowing him to turn and get a proper look at the man. He looked good.

“Hey, Timmy.”

“Hi, Tony.”

“Can I have a proper hug from my Godson now?” Tony asked, arms slightly extended. The man still wasn’t much of a touchy feely person, but he was learning. Having Jason living with him for most of the last year had been good for both of them it seemed. The man was more open to hugs these days though he was still awkward when initiating them.

Tim huffed good naturedly but accepted the hug. He’d really missed Tony. Talking to JARVIS on the phone and getting updates and messages from Jason just wasn’t the same.

“You’ve gotten taller,” Tony commented.

“Nah, you just got shorter,” Tim quipped back.

“Smart ass,” Tony snorted.

“I learned from the best,” Tim chuckled.

“Damn right you did,” Tony laughed, with a smirk. “Now are you gonna introduce me to your lady friends?”

“Sorry,” Tim said, turning to the blonde on his left. “Tony, this is Stephanie Brown.”

“The infamous Steph I’ve heard so much about?” Tony asked, grinning as he offered her his hand. “A pleasure to meet you at last.”

Steph blushed, but appeared pleased. She knew how much Tony meant to Tim, though she - like everyone else except for Jason and Bruce - didn’t know their real relationship.

“And these lovely ladies?” Tony prompted, looking over towards Cassandra and Barbara.

“Cassandra Cain and Barbara Gordon,” Tim said, gesturing to each in turn.

“Ah,” Tony said, grinning as he shot a sly look at Dick, before turning on the charm. “Now this really is a pleasure. Timmy’s told me a lot about both of you, and Bruce and Dick speak very highly of you, Miss Gordon. I’m told you’ve got quite the set up back at your place. Timmy’s even showed me some of your little gadgets. It was some very impressive tech.”

“Oh?” Barbara said, clearly flattered and then became amused when she caught sight of Dick’s scowl.

Tim sighed. Tony couldn’t help baiting Dick, could he? He was starting to doubt that those two would ever get along.

Then Barbara and Tony began to get into some complicated techno talk about computers and various projects they’d worked on while being playfully teasing and even a touch flirty. Jason and Dick seemed to have a role reversal mere minutes into the conversation. Dick looked very grumpy and kept glaring at Tony while Jason practically looked giddy upon seeing how much it was bugging Dick that Barbara was enjoying conversing with Tony. Cassandra also looked amused, though she clearly had no idea what Barbara and Tony were talking about and had moved back over to Steph and Tim to talk about school and how Tim was handling life without a cape. Bruce and Alfred were now talking to Jason, and Tim was glad to see that Jason appeared to be more relaxed when talking to Bruce. He’d heard that Jason had been visiting the manor and had begun reconciling with Bruce about the older teen’s death. Whatever therapy Jason was going through when he stayed with Tony was doing wonders.

That is when Gotham apparently decided that they weren’t allowed to have nice nights like this so soon after No Man’s Land and something exploded near the front entrance of the gallery that was hosting the gala. There were screams and cries of alarm as people began to run and push and shove their way as far from the explosion as possible.

Jason and Tony were in action almost immediately. Tim wasn’t sure where they’d been keeping Tony’s portable suitcase armor, but Tony was suited up in seconds and Jason had his sidearm drawn and was making his way after him, shoving people towards the back exits as he went. Cass, Steph, Bruce and Dick had practically vanished, leaving Tim alone with Barbara and Alfred.

“Never a quiet night,” Tim huffed.

Alfred merely quirked an eyebrow, but Barbara was grinning wryly at him.

“TIM!”

“And cue my worried parents,” Tim sighed when he caught sight of Jack and Dana pushing their way through the panicking crowd to get to where Tim, Barbara and Alfred had managed to stay out of everybody’s way by remaining where they were against a far wall. There was no way Tim was going to leave Barbara in her wheelchair to maneuver through the crowd. It wasn’t that Tim didn’t think Barbara could handle herself. Quite the opposite in fact. It’s just that in their panic, people might knock her chair over and trample her. It was safer to wait for the crowd to thin a bit.

Jack’s hand felt like a vice as it grabbed his arm and began to yank him towards the exiting crowd.

“Dad, calm down,” Tim hissed. “I’m fine.”

“Why weren’t you trying to leave?” Jack demanded. “Thought you’d stay behind and help?”

“I thought I’d keep my friend company and help her out once the crowds thinned a bit,” Tim snapped, gesturing to Barbara and her chair.

“Jack,” Dana said softly, placing a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder. “Let him go. He’s fine.”

Jack flushed slightly, though whether it was in anger, or embarrassment, Tim wasn’t sure.

“Babs, this is my father, Jack Drake, and my step-mom, Dana” Tim said once Jack had let him go. “Dad, Dana, meet Barbara Gordon.”

“Pleasure,” Barbara said, shaking Dana’s hand.

Jack seemed to have collected himself and shook her hand as well. “Yes, a pleasure, I’m sure. But I think it’s high time we got out of here.”

Tim nodded as he looked over towards where the explosion had occurred and could hear the whine of Iron Man’s repulsors and the occasional gunshot, and saw the occasion blur of black as Batman and the others arrived to help.

“Yeah,” Tim sighed as he and the others moved away to the back of the hall where everyone was scrambling to get through the back exits. Once they got mixed up in the crowd, though, Tim found himself separated from the others. He could hear Jack yelling for him and tried moving towards the sound of his voice, but someone grabbed his arm from behind.

“My apologies, boy, but I’m going to be borrowing you for a short while,” a man’s deep voice said in his ear to be heard clearly over the din of the chaos still going on around them.

“Who are you? Let me go,” Tim hissed, shoving at the hand that had a solid grip on him.

“Now, boy, is that any way to speak to your uncle after all these years?” the man behind him asked. “Janet would be so disappointed to hear that her son has lost his manners. Although, because it’s me you’re being rude to, she might have been proud instead. She loved giving me hell.”

With a growl, Tim whirled around and faced a tall impeccably dressed, but formidable looking man wearing an eye patch over his right eye and had snow white hair. It was Slade Wilson, otherwise known as Deathstroke the Terminator to the caped crowd.

The man’s words suddenly hit him with all the metaphorical force of a speeding train. His mother was supposed to have a brother that no one had been able to track down after her death. There had been no record of him after his stint in the army nearly two decades ago. Jack had once described him as eccentric, wild and uncivil. Neither of his parents had seen him since Tim’s first birthday when Janet had apparently had a bad disagreement with him. Her maiden name was Wilson. His uncle was Slade Wilson, the Terminator: Deathstroke .

“Oh fuck,” Tim gasped, feeling slightly numb.

“Now he figures it out,” Slade grumbled before yanking him through the crowd.

Tim was reeling in so much shock he didn’t even try to resist as Slade manhandled him through the crowd and into a car.

“Come on, boy, it isn’t that shocking,” Slade snapped as he put the car in gear. “And put your seatbelt on.”

Tim numbley did as he was told as Slade smoothly pulled away from the curb and began to quickly leave the scene, though not fast enough to warrant attention from police who were just now arriving at the scene of the gala.

“Where did you think you got your athleticism from? Certainly not Jack. What exactly did you get from that moron? You look nothing like him to be honest,” Slade mused. “You look more like you’re Stark or Wayne’s brat. What the hell did Janet see in that man?”

“I am so confused right now,” Tim sighed. This man wasn’t quite what he’d expect Slade Wilson to be like after all he’d heard about the mercenary from Dick, the older Titans, and Ravager, Rose Wilson. Who was Slade’s daughter… which made her Tim’s cousin.

“What’s there to be confused about?” Slade huffed. “Your mother married a pansy.”

“Why am I only finding out about you now?!” Tim cried.

“Because your mother told me to stay out of your lives when I showed up on your first birthday after a job and nearly blew her cover with Jack. Don’t know what the problem was. The man’s so thick he never once suspected her of being a spy,” Slade grumbled. “He’s never liked me, though, and the feeling is mutual.”

“Mother was a what?!” Tim screeched.

“A spy. Are you deaf?” Slade scowled. “She worked for the CIA. Why else would she marry Jack? He was the perfect cover and allowed her to travel all over the world on all sorts of trips for so-called business meetings and archeological discoveries.”

Tim stared out the windshield unseeing, connecting dots and putting together facts about his mother that he’d never been able to make sense of before. The constant traveling, the way she’d always seemed to keep Tim at arm’s length, like she didn’t want to get too attached to her own son, and the depths she went to, to ensure that Tim had Tony in his life. Little things like that in her mannerisms and habits suddenly made too much sense.

“Fuck,” Tim breathed again.

“Yeah, Janet’s good at messing up people’s lives. Even in death,” Slade growled.

“If my mother wanted you to stay out of my life, why make contact now?” Tim demanded.

“To keep your ass safe, of course. Janet would find some way to haunt me if anything happened to you. After she died, I got a letter asking me to keep my eye on you. Not that it mattered. You’d already become Robin by the time I tracked you down. So now we’re going to have to have this little family reunion fast before the Bats and Iron Moron realize you’re missing and try to track us down,” Slade said, though he looked a little too gleeful at the prospect.

“Wait, so the robots attacking the gala weren’t your doing?” Tim asked.

“No, but they provided one hell of a distraction, and I’m not one to let a good opportunity pass by.” Slade smirked, pulling the car into the back of a parking lot and got out. He had put a hat on to cover his distinctive white hair and had the brim pulled down low to leave his eye and eyepatch in shadow. “Come on, runt. We’ve got some things to talk about before your guard dogs start sniffing out the trail.”

Tim cautiously followed Slade onto a busy street. Slade grabbed him by the arm so that they didn’t lose each other on their way down into the subway. Tim had some trouble keeping up with the man’s long strides, but he managed not to trip over himself too many times before Slade shoved him into a maintenance room that had a well hidden secret passage into a long hall that went on for blocks and led to a safehouse of sorts. Tim was surprised to find himself in a nice townhouse. In fact, if he wasn’t mistaken, it was only a few blocks from his school. That was unnerving. How long had Slade been watching him?

“So what’s this about?” Tim asked.

“This,” Slade said, pulling an envelope out of a wooden chest on the mantle in the living room. “This letter was sent to me by someone after her death was confirmed. An old CIA buddy, no doubt.”

Tim took the envelope with trembling hands. The addresses on the envelope and the letter inside were all written in Janet Drake’s neat cursive.

Slade,

If you are reading this, then I am dead. Looks like I wasn’t the death of you after all, big brother. I know we haven’t spoken in years and I told you to stay out of my life and Tim’s, but now that I’m dead I wish to take it back. If I’m dead, it’s likely that Jack is dead too, and that means that Timothy only has Tony Stark. As much as I like that man, I don’t fully trust him to take care of Tim. Especially now that he’s Iron Man. Consider it my dying wish that you watch over my son. I know you’re shit with kids, but just keep your eye out for him, Slade. He is a Wilson in all but name and that’s going to get him into serious trouble one of these days. He’s going to be great someday. You love to say that I am the reason your hair went prematurely white, so if that’s true, then Timothy is going to make you bald. There are a million things I want to say to you, my dear older brother, but half of them are curses and the other half is just too sappy to write down without me wanting to vomit, and will have you wanting to gouge out your eye, so I’ll spare the both of us.

I’ve left a box of things for Tim at your Gotham address for when he’s older. Please make sure he gets it.

Take care of him for me, Slade.

Your baby sister,

Janet

Tim read the letter twice before he folded it back up and handed it back to his uncle.

“There’s one for you too,” Slade said, pulling out a second envelope from the chest, this one still sealed and unread as far as Tim could tell as he turned it over in his hands. There was no address. All it said was “Tim” in his mother’s neat cursive on the front. With slightly shaking hands, Tim opened the envelope and took out a page of crisp stationary.

My dearest son,

If you are reading this letter, then I am dead and Slade has found you. He is your uncle, Timothy. My older brother, whom I trust enough with your life, despite whatever I’ve said about him to you. Though his morals may be questionable, family means a lot to him.

I know you think that I don’t know about your new nightly habit of sneaking out to train with the Batman, but I know that you’re following Tony’s example and are training to become the next Robin. Depending on how long it takes my letter to find Slade, you may already be Robin and have heard about him from in a less than spectacular light.

But I know you will give him a chance if only on the merit of him being your uncle. There is more to him than the mercenary, Timothy. There is more to him than Deathstroke the Terminator. He just may be a complete ass about it at first unfortunately. He’s sadly a touch insane, but his black heart is still in the right place and is capable of some emotion.

I want you to know that I love you very much, Timothy. I know I never said it often. I know I was hardly there for you, but I did love you. I loved you enough to make sure that you had Tony and that he remained a part of your life. I loved you enough to make sure I wrote one of these letters before every trip I took in case I met my inevitable end. Slade should have them all. I know that it can’t ever make of for all the time lost between us, or make up for how horrible of a mother I was, and how much of your life I’ve missed, but it’s all I have left to give you.

I love you with all my heart, my darling son, and am so proud of you.

Your mother,

Janet Wilson-Drake

Tim swallowed as he read the letter, holding back tears. His mother had known, and seemed to have approved of Tim’s actions to some degree. However, She was entrusting his safety to Slade fuckign Wilson, even though she had to have known that Deathstroke and Batman had clashed on more than one occasion. Just because his mother and uncle had been staying out of each other’s lives didn’t mean that they hadn’t been keeping tabs on the other’s activities. You can’t completely avoid someone if you don’t have any idea of where they are afterall.

“Why is my family life so messed up?” Tim bemoaned.

“Because you’re a Wilson by blood, sister’s spawn,” Slade chuckled softly.

“But why are you only showing up now?” Tim asked. “Mother died nearly two years ago.”

“I didn’t get my letter until last year,” Slade sighed, taking a seat in a wingback chair. “As you already know, we hadn’t spoken in years. She kept to her life and I kept to mine, making sure our paths never crossed. I have safe houses that she didn’t know about. She sent her letter to the last place she knew I was living. It got forwarded a bunch of times until it ended up at our idiot brother’s address in New York.”

“Wait, I have another uncle?” Tim gasped.

“We don’t like to talk about Wade,” Slade growled. “ He is certifiably insane. Can’t take that moron anywhere. He got some unsanctioned experimental bullshit done to him and now he’s practically immortal. Can’t tell you how many times I’ve tried to kill him, but the idiot won’t die and now I’m stuck with him. Why couldn’t it have been Janet? Her kind of crazy was easier to deal with.”

Tim stared at Slade in alarm.

“Just stay away from a guy in a black and red suit that’s similar in design to mine and goes by the name of Deadpool and you’ll be fine,” Slade sighed. “Point being, short stuff, I didn’t get Janet’s letter because it was forwarded to our crazy brother who forgot he had it until his girlfriend found it while she was cleaning house. Then the annoying bastard decided to personally track me down and deliver it. By then you’d already been Robin for a year, Jack was awake from his coma, and you didn’t really need me. I have kept tabs on you, though. You maintained impressive grades considering how you were spending your nights.”

“Uh, thanks?” Tim said.

“In all seriousness, kid,” Slade said, “I wanted to talk to you tonight to let you know that I’m around if you need me. I might not always be here, but if I am in Gotham, I can be found at this address. You can come here whenever you need to. It’s not changing.”

“You’re not afraid that Batman might already know this address?” Tim asked.

“Kid, so long as I’m not up to anything in his city, the Bat and I leave each other alone. And even if I am up to no good in this city, I sure as hell am not staying here when I do it,” Slade laughed. “And speaking of the Bat, I better get you back home before he and Iron Man start looking for you.”

“That’s it?” Tim asked, “You just drag me off, show me a couple letters Mother wrote years ago, and just send me on my way? Wouldn’t it have been a lot easier to just approaching me at the gala and show me the letters there?”

“And let the Bats and your Dad listen in?” Slade scoffed. “Look, kid, I don’t care if they know we’re related, but I figured you’d appreciate a private conversation considering the fact no one outside of the CIA knew that your mother was a spy or that her two brothers were still alive after leaving the army, one of whom after being dishonorably discharged.”

“You?” Tim asked

“No, Wade,” Slade grunted. “I went into the CIA for a short time before I got into the mercenary business. I swear Janet only joined up too just to piss me off. Speaking of which, if for whatever reason you do need me and I’m not here, call this number,” he said as he flipped open Tim’s phone (when the hell had he taken that?) and started hitting buttons. “I put it under Winters. It’ll call a friend of mine, who’ll get in touch with me. If you can’t get a hold of him and he doesn’t get back to you no matter how many times you call within a twenty-four hour period, then - and only only if it’s an emergency - call Wade, whose number I’m also putting in here.”

“Wait, didn’t you say that I should stay away from him?” Tim asked, confused.

“Unless it is an emergency,” Slade repeated with a sigh. “He’ll probably talk your ear off when you call, but he’ll get here faster than anyone else since he’s only a couple hours away in New York. Oh! Almost forgot.”

Slade got up from his chair, took the chest off the mantle and handed it to Tim.

“It’s full of letters and things from Janet for you kid. There are hundreds of them,” Slade said.

Tim took the chest, examining the ornate carvings all over it’s wooden surface. Curious, Tim flipped open the lid and saw bound bundles of hundreds of letters and a few large envelopes that looked like they held objects in addition to the letters. Slade gently set Tim’s letter on top of everything and shut the chest.

“Don’t open anything until you’re home alone,” the man said gently. “Once you start, it’ll be hard to stop.”

Tim nodded, wordlessly following Slade - his uncle - out of the townhouse and into a garage where a sleek but unremarkable black car waited. The drive to Tim’s house was a quiet one. Neither spoke until Slade pulled the car up to the Drake house, where Jack burst through the door almost the moment Tim stepped out.

“TIM!”

Tim wasn’t surprised to see Dana right behind him or a couple figures moving slightly in the shadows. The Red Hood’s helmet gleamed briefly in the tree next to Tim’s bedroom window.

“Where the hell have you been?!” Jack cried, racing forward, gripping Tim’s arms tight and shaking him slightly.

“Relax, Jackie boy,” Slade drawled as he got out of the car and came around to stand by the passenger door. “He was with me.”

“You!” Jack growled, pushing Tim behind him as if to protect him. “What are you doing here, Slade?”

“I’m just bringing my nephew back home,” Slade said, smirking. “He got separated from you in the crowd at the gala and I offered him a ride home. We did take a detour over to my place, however. I had a few things of Janet’s that she wanted me to pass on to the boy in the event of her death.”

“It’s true dad,” Tim said gently. “Mother left a chest of things for me at his house that she didn’t want me to have until I was older.”

“What things?” Jack demanded.

“Letters, mostly,” Slade said, shrugging. “Janet was a practical woman. She wrote Tim a letter before every trip you two took when globe trotting in the event that something might happened to her. Now if you don’t mind, Jack, it’s late and I’ve got an early flight to catch tomorrow morning. I’m sure Tim is also anxious to go through the things Janet left him. Do call if you need anything, Tim.”

“Uncle Slade!” Tim called out, shoving past his father to stand before the man. “Thank you.”

Slade’s smile actually looked soft and genuine when he looked down at Tim. He hefted the chest out of his car and gave it back to Tim.

“You’re welcome, Tim,” he said. “I know that Janet would be very proud of who you’ve become.”

Tim nodded, stepping back to stand by Jack and Dana as he watched Slade get back in his car and drive away. Tim sighed, staring down at the chest in his arms.

“Please excuse me, Father,” Tim said softly as he headed inside the house.

“Tim, wait!” he heard Jack say, but Dana stopped him.

“Jack, let him be,” he barely heard her say in a soft tone. “He’s home. He’s safe. He wasn’t out fighting.”

Tim couldn’t hear anymore of their conversation as he slipped upstairs and into his room. He set the chest on the foot of his bed and stared at it for a moment, trying to reconcile all that had happened in the last couple of hours.

He was pulled from his thoughts when the window opened and Red Hood slipped in with Robin and Batgirl.

“Tim!” Robin cried softly as she practically tackled him into a hug. “Are you alright? The boss man was really worried when O reported that you’d disappeared.”

“Tony was too,” Jason sighed as he pulled off his helmet. “What the hell happened, Baby Bird?”

“Baby Bird?” Robin repeated, voice squeaking a bit as she stared at the young man in surprise. Obviously she’d never heard that particular nick name out of the many Jason had given Tim over the last year.

“He’s tiny and he was Robin,” Jason snapped defensively. “Kid was practically a baby compared to Dickface and I when we wore the uniform.”

Batgirl said nothing, but the slight shaking in her shoulders told Tim that she was laughing at the exchange. She sidled up to him, her full face mask giving nothing away.

“You okay?” she asked. “What’s in the box?”

Though she spoke quietly, Jason and Robin heard her and stopped talking.

“Letters,” Tim answered, flipping the lid open. “They’re all from my mother.”

“Why the hell did Slade have them?” Jason asked.

“Mother left them with him, I guess,” Tim said, picking up the first bundle of letters. There was fifty in the stack held together by a couple rubber bands. All had his name on the front. “Slade is her older brother.”

It got dead quiet in the room.

“You have gotta be shitting me,” Jason gasped. “Fucking Deathstroke is really your uncle?! That wasn’t just some bullshit cover story?”

“That’s not all,” Tim sighed, handing him the letter he’d read at Slade’s.

Jason’s eyes got bigger and bigger as he read it. Robin and Batgirl were up on their tiptoes to read over his shoulders.

“She knew?” Jason whispered.

“Yes,” Tim sighed.

“Do you think she knew who Batman is?” Robin asked.

“Highly likely,” Tim sighed. “My guess is that she did and was too smart to say so outright in her letter in case it fell into someone else’s hands.”

“I’m still wrapping my head around the part where Slade fucking Wilson is your uncle,” Jason growled. “Tony’s not going to like it.”

“Neither is the boss man,” Robin sighed.

“Well too bad,” Tim snapped, taking his letter back from Jason and shutting the chest full of letters. “I can’t help who my family is. It’s not my fault my mother was a spy and has two crazy mercenaries for brothers.”

“Your mom was a spy?!” the trio gasped.

“CIA,” Tim answered shortly. “So was Slade until he got into mercenary work, apparently.”

“No wonder you’re so good at being sneaky,” Jason mused. “You get that from your mom’s side apparently.”

“Yeah,” Tim chuckled darkly. “Got just the right amount of crazy in my blood too with my mother being a Wilson and all.”

“Tim,” Robin said softly, reaching out a comforting hand.

Tim stepped out of reach.

“If it’s all the same to you guys, I’d like to be alone right now. I’ve… got a lot to think about.”

He didn’t hear or see them leave, but he knew he was alone after a few minutes of silence. Letting out a long tired sigh, he got out of his suit, showered, and put on a pair of comfortable sweats and a large old worn t-shirt that he was pretty sure had been Dick’s at one point in time. Then he crawled onto his bed and stared at the chest full of letters.

When he finally mustered the courage to open the chest again, he pulled out the first bundle and undid the rubber bands. It wasn’t until he moved to open the first letter in the bundle that he realized that the back of each envelope was dated. The bundle he held dated back a year before his mother died. Putting the bundle back together, Tim searched through the chest until he found him mother’s first letters, dating back to just a few months after he’d been born.

Then he began to read them. The letters that covered the first two years of his life weren’t that long, but they were full of lovely sentiments and Janet’s hopes for his future. At least a third of the letters, however, had been written during her trips and occasionally had pictures of the places she’d been. As he went through the years through the letters, they got longer, and he occasionally found pictures of her with Jack or Tim as a child. He had found one particular letter that had been written a few months after his third birthday with a picture of Tim sitting in Dick Grayson’s lap with Janet, Jack and Dick’s parents standing behind them.

Her letter was full of reassurances that even though Dick’s parents were dead, that the boy would be fine. That she believed that there was a life after death and that Dick was sure to see them again after he died, and that Tim would get to see her again when his time came. It was one of her longest letters, one that she’d written in the event that she might die during the trip that she and Jack had taken soon after two of the three Flying Grayson’s had fallen to their deaths. Tim kept that letter and the picture out and set it on the bedside table in a small pile of letters that he wanted to reread later.

Tim kept reading through the night going through letter after letter until he came back to the last one she wrote - the first he’d read - and read it again. He let the tears flow, feeling true grief for the loss of the woman who had been his mother, who had been made real again through these letters. He felt like he knew her more now than he had when she had been alive. He missed her, mourned for her, and felt emotions that he felt hadn’t been there the day of her funeral when he’d watched them put her in the ground. He hadn’t known that woman then, but he knew her now and it pained him that he only got to know her after she was gone.

He wished that he could have spent more time with her. He wished that he could have gone on some of the trips that she’d written about and taken pictures of. That he could see the places she’d found and bought the trinkets that were kept in the larger envelopes. One trinket in particular was a necklace made of thick hemp cord with seaglass beads woven in the fibers and had a shark’s tooth dangling from it. If her letter that came with the necklace was to be believed, she’d gotten the shark’s tooth from a diving expedition that nearly went wrong somewhere in the Pacific Isles where a great white shark nearly took a bite out of her and her scuba instructor. Janet had found and collected the tooth from her wrecked diving bag that had been recovered and had a local Samoan weaver make the necklace and carve symbols of strength and love into the shark tooth.

Tim put the necklace on his side table on top of the letters he’d kept out. There were quite a few of them.

He jumped when he heard a knock at his the door before Dana slipped in.

“Did you stay up all night?” she asked.

Tim glanced out the window and realized that the sun was starting to appear in the sky. It was a good thing it was Sunday and he had no school.

“I guess I did,” Tim said, his voice a little hoarse from his crying.

“May I?” Dana asked, gesturing to the bed.

Tim nodded, putting away the rest of the letters that he wasn’t keeping out, as she sat beside him on the bed.

“Your father and I had a talk last night,” Dana said.

“I swear, I didn’t do anything,” Tim groaned. “I didn’t try to go back and fight whatever the hell attacked last night’s gala. I was lost in the crowd trying to find you but Slade showed up, dropped the bomb that he is my uncle and told me he had some things from my mother, gave me the chest, and drove me home. That’s it. Nothing happened.”

“I believe you,” Dana said, smiling softly. “Do you want to talk about her? I know Jack doesn’t like to, but I am here if you want to, Tim.”

“Thanks, Dana. I know why my father doesn’t talk about her. I don’t either. But now there’s…this,” he said, gesturing to the chest. “Before, there wasn’t anything to really talk about. I barely knew her. To be honest, I barely knew either of them. I didn’t start getting to know my father until after he woke up from his coma. It’s kind of hard to talk about someone you didn’t know.”

Dana nodded slowly. “And now?”

“Now… now I know what she must have been like,” Tim whispered, his throat tightening like it was trying to choke him as the words started spilling out. “I know how much she loved me. I know that I was always in the back of her mind. She wrote to me before every trip in case it was ever her last. She wrote all those letters like they might be the last thing she would ever get to say to me. And then there are the ones she wrote while she was on her trips about all the places she’d been and the things she’d seen. She wrote about where she’d want revisit to take me on trips with her one day. She wrote about how she wanted to show me the Pacific Islands for my sixteenth birthday, about her plans to get Tony to come out with us and trick him into paying for the whole thing.”

Tim’s strangled laugh turned into a wrenching sob.

“For my eighteenth she wanted to take me to New Zealand to visit and hike places the Lord of the Rings movies were filmed because she knew how much I love those movies. She wanted to track down and introduce me to Slade and reconcile with him. She regretted that she hadn’t tried to find her brother after his wife and son had died. She regretted that she’d spent so little time with me. She regretted being an absent mother. She regretted putting her job first and me second even though she thought about me all the time. She’s written so much and now that I’ve read everything that’s in that damn chest, all I want is to find more!

“I want to find her journals and the diaries she refers to in her letters. I want to find them so that I can know what her childhood was like with her brothers. To know how she met and fell in love with my father. I want to know more about her trips, and her life that I never knew about aside from the destinations. I want to know so much more about this woman I never knew when she was alive, and feel awful that I felt nothing when she was buried.

“I couldn’t look past her absence and didn’t love her as much as she loved me. She says it in every letter and I can feel it bleeding off the pages. It kills me that I can’t even recall a single time that I told her I loved her. But I must have, right?! She had to know that I loved her. That I only wanted to be with her. Oh, God! I wish I could see her one last time if only to tell her that I’ve read every letter. That I love her as much as she loves me. That I want to make her proud, that I want to take those trips and see the things she wanted me to see. I wish I’d said goodbye.” Tim choked. “I never got to say goodbye.”

It was like a dam had broke. His tear ducts were working overtime, producing wave after wave of tears. He found himself sobbing into Dana’s shoulder as she pulled him into her arms, her hand in his hair, shushing him and saying incomprehensible but soothing words. He wasn’t sure how long it went on, but when the tears finally stopped, and his breathing - though still hitching - was returning to normal, he found Jack sitting on his other side, gently pulling him out of Dana’s arms and into his own. They didn’t exchange any words. Jack just held Tim and began rocking him slightly, as if he were a little boy again. The action was more soothing than anything he could have possibly said, and Tim felt himself slipping into unconsciousness.

Before he succumbed to sleep, however, he vowed to be a better son. He promised himself that he wouldn’t let Jack remain a stranger in his life. That he wouldn’t have to bury the man without knowing who he was, like he had with his mother. He might miss being Robin, maybe even regret giving up the cape, but he would give it all up again to have this chance to know his father. To know Jack, and get to know Dana better. He swore that he would stop dwelling on what he missed about being a vigilante, and focus more on his family.

Author’s Note:

I KNOW! I KNOW! I totally failed to drag myself out of the darkness and keep this a fluffy piece like I'd intended. I found myself crying as I wrote the ending of this chapter because of all the feels. I actually had to get up an walk away from it for an hour before wrapping it up. I'm actually kind of mad with how depressing this chapter ended, but I just couldn't deal with writing more for this chapter. I'll try to post a new chapter soon that'll be nothing but pure fluff. Maybe I'll write about Jason and Tim racing hamsters or something.

I'm really kind of bummed that Steph and Cass weren't in this as much as I'd originally wanted. Maybe it's because I'm not as familiar with their characters as I am with everyone else's, that I kept hitting road blocks when writing them in scenes. And speaking of characters that I'm not familiar with, I totally hadn't intended for Slade to show up this chapter, but he muscled his way in anyway and then decided to go "oh hey! Here's some angst for you" and dumped a chest full of letters from Janet into Tim's lap. I must apologize if Slade comes off incredibly OC in this fic. Some of you may have caught my hints that Janet had a brother that could possibly be Slade or Wade Wilson and I have had some readers guess that her brother would turn out to be one or the other but you're all right! It's both! Though technically it was Slade that was being referred to in chapter six's funeral scene because (as Slade said this chapter) "we don't like to talk about Wade." So yeah. Tim's family situation continues to get crazier and crazier. The kid was never meant to be normal, the poor boy. XD

I hope I did alright writing Slade, Cass and Steph (even though the girls weren't in the chapter much). I realize that they are perhaps the most OC of any of the characters that I've written so far, and I'm afraid that it shows that I'm just not as familiar with them as I am with the others like Bruce, Tim, Tony, Dick and Jason (the last of which I find kinda funny because I haven't read his character in any comic apart from the new 52 Red Hood and the Outlaws comics). If you guys have any advice about writing Slade, Steph and Cass's characters, please tell me because the only thing I've read Steph and Cass in is the Red Robin comics. Slade, however, I've seen in Teen Titans, Young Justice, the DC animated movies, and CW's Arrow (all of which are different characters in their own ways, especially in age). The Slade I'm kind of leaning towards and referring to character-wise, is the Slade Wilson in the Arrow tv series on CW.

The Slade Wilson in my fic is probably in his early to mid 40s, but looks like he's in his 30s because of the procedure that gave Slade his regenerative abilities and heightened senses. For the sake of simplifying things (and because I'm not familiar with his comic origins except for what's written on wikipedia), let's just say that Slade has the same regenerative abilities as Wolverine and Deadpool, and went through a sanctioned secret government experiment that was very similar to the one Wade (who I'm gonna base off the Deadpool movie for most if not all of Wade's backstory and characterization) went though but didn't didn't have any adverse results because he didn't have cancer, though it didn't regenerate his eye because that happened before he went through the procedure.

Alright gang, technically this is where this fic ends things before we get to the events surrounding the Avenger's film. I won't change this fic's status to complete just yet, however, because there are moments I want to go back to and write little chapters for, like hamster racing, and happy times with a younger Timmy interacting with Tony, Pepper, Happy and Rhodes. If there's anything you guys would like to see, please feel free to drop a suggestion in a comment or something.

This of course means that I'm finally getting ready to actually write the Avengers plot lines. As you know (If you ever bother to read these author's notes) I have 3 main plot lines that I'm toying with and am going to write as their own separate stories that'll all exist bus as their own AU in this same verse. So for all three plots, this is where the plot lines diverge into their own realities, so keep your eye out for new fics under the new Tim Drake-Wayne-Stark series tag that I've added. :)

#Timmy Stark Verse #Tim Drake #tony stark #slade wilson #jack drake #Jason Todd #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #barbara gordon #dick grayson

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