The child seemed oddly familiar, sat on the bed, his pyjamas thrown haphazardly on the floor beside him. The kid made no move to retrieve them, or even cover himself up; it made Bruce sick. What had this child been though? He was just so young.

Bruce tentatively sat down on the far side of the bed, keeping as much eye contact with the boy as possible the tried to convey that he was no there to hurt him. Blank eyes stared back at him, so much older than the kid himself.

He didn't look as though he would run away so, holding his hands out in front of him Bruce leant down to pick up the discarded pyjamas. Trying as best he could to genuinely smile, despite the circumstances, he held out the bundle of clothes.

"Hey kiddo, it's okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Bruce said, barely whispering, and he motioned for the boy to take the pyjamas. The boy's face crumpled into confusion, this had probably never happened to him before. People would probably just pick him up, use him and dump him like less than trash. It was disgusting.

Bruce motioned again for the boy to take the pyjamas and slowly he did. Quickly putting them back on, the boy curled himself into a ball. He was visibly shaking and he pushed his head into his knees to make himself as small as possible; even so Bruce felt certain that he had the boy's full attention. He wouldn't let his guard down.

"Hey, my name's Bruce. What's yours?" He soothed, trying desperately hard not to move forward to comfort the boy and scare him further. The boy sucked in a few deep breaths and looked up, his eyes shining with tears.

"Timothy."

Bruce smiled; it was a start.

"Timothy's a lovely name." The boy looked up at him though his eyelashes blushing. "Timothy, my son, Jason, and butler, Alfred, are downstairs making some drinks, would you like one?"

Timothy looked hopeful but remained silent. He had probably been told not to accept offers of food and drink… it wasn't entirely unreasonable that he'd had a bad experience either.

"It's just a few mugs of hot chocolate," Timothy let out a small gasp, he truly looked happy "Jason loves one after a long evening, it helps him get to sleep. Would you like some?"

Timothy nodded and Bruce grinned, getting up and moving to the door whilst keeping an eye out just in case the boy tried to bolt.

Opening the door, it was entirely unsurprising that Jason and Alfred were waiting outside, a tray of hot chocolate still steaming away. Bruce beckoned them both inside, but made sure they stayed near the edge of the room.

He smiled back at the boy, "Timothy, this is my son, Jason and my butler, Alfred." To Bruce's relief Timothy smiled back. Alfred took that as a signal to move; he gracefully offered the tray to the boy,

"Master Timothy, as our guest, you get to chose first."

For the first time that evening the boy beamed. His eyes darted around the tray to choose which drink he would like. They settled on the one furthest away from him and Timothy brought it to his lips before his eyes widened and he dropped it back on the tray again, the liquid spilling over the sides slightly. Jason ran to the bed as Timothy shuffled back as far as could away from Alfred.

"Hey, it's okay. It's just hot chocolate I promise, see?" Jason soothed. He picked up the mug Timothy had just discarded and took a sip before holding back out for him to take. "See, just hot chocolate."

Jason smiled and Timothy returned the favour, taking the mug back, also taking a sip.

"Timothy, we've arranged for a doctor to see you tomorrow, we need to make sure you're healthy, then we'll take it from there. Is that okay." Bruce said.

Timothy nodded slightly, reaching a hand out and clinging to Jason's pyjamas.

"Yes Jason can come too."

Timothy nodded firmly.

Bruce and Alfred left them to finfish their drinks alone; Timothy was much calmer when it was just Jason he was around.

By the time they were finishing their hot chocolates Timothy's eyelids were drooping, then again it was four in the morning and even Jason was waning.

"Hey kid, looks like we need to get you back to bed. Four o'clock isn't a time you should see twice in twenty four hours." Jason smiled pulling Timothy up from his bed and guiding him beck to the guest room next door. Timothy went willingly, pliant to Jason's ministrations until he was tucked in again and Jason started to leave the room.

"No!" He croaked, his voice rough with disuse. "Please don't leave me."

Jason frowned, "I'll just be next door…"

Timothy shook his head violently, "Please." He sounded so defeated and small that Jason nodded slowly and climbed into the bed next to him. It was a king bed after all, there was plenty of space for both of them.

He pretended that he didn't notice Timothy curling into a defensive ball the moment he fell asleep.


Any thoughts Jason had of a substantial lie in were dashed when Alfred came and woke them both up the next morning at ten. Admittedly it wasn't seven, but it was still early, especially after the antics of the previous night.

"Master Jason," Jason moaned and turned over once again, stuffing his face into a pillow, a muffled laugh coming from beside him.

"Master Jason, Dr Thompkins is expecting us at eleven, as much as I appreciate that you need your beauty sleep it would be inappropriate for us to be late." Alfred stripped the duvet off the bed. "And that means you getting up so you may have breakfast before you go."

Jason sat up, bleary eyed, but awake. He blinked, looking around the room to where Timothy was standing behind Alfred. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and an old Monsters Inc. t-shirt that must have been Dicks because they were far too small to have ever been his.

"I'm up, I'm up. What's for breakfast Al?" He said as he got up to move back to his own room.

"Master Timothy has requested chocolate chip pancakes, he even helped me make them, so you better get dressed quickly or they'll all be gone." Alfred teased, and Jason ran back to his room shouting back an affirmative as he went.

Jason threw on his own pair of jeans and a well-worn Wonder Woman t-shirt he knew riled Bruce up, before sprinting down to the kitchen, riding on the bannisters as he went.

"Nice of you to finally join us Jason." Bruce said over his newspaper and coffee. Even though he couldn't see it, Jason knew the old man was smiling.

"C'mon B, you know me, I wouldn't miss Alfred's pancakes for the world."

They could both tell their usual morning conversation was strained, usually they would discuss their patrol the previous evening, or what each of them would be up to that day. That just didn't seem… right in a way; not with Tim happily munching on his pancakes. So Jason just got himself a glass of orange juice and sat down to his own stack, leaving conversation up to Bruce.

"So Dr Thompkins is expecting us at eleven." Bruce started putting his newspaper down and sipping his coffee, and Jason smiled.

"Alfred said."

"Dick said he may be back for a visit soon. He has some leave coming up and says he misses us."

"As he should. I'm awesome. He should come back for me alone, you two are just added bonuses." Jason said with his mouthful, which was bound-

"Master Jason, table manners!" yep, bound to get an admonishment from Alfred.

He made a point of swallowing. "You got it Alfred."

Timothy laughed, finishing his own plate of pancakes. Alfred muttered something about a being a bad influence. The whole table laughed at that.


Leslie Thomkins' clinic was surprisingly empty when they got there, at least she didn't have to squeeze them in somewhere; they had time.

The four of them took a set of seats in the far corner of the room, mostly to avoid the stares of the other patients if they could. It wasn't a secret that Dr Thompkins served as the Wayne family doctor, but people still tended to gossip over the fact that Bruce was at the clinic in the first place. They didn't have to wait too long for Dr Thompkins to see them, seeing as the clinic was so empty; Jason passed the time on his phone anyway.

"You must be Timothy." She said once they got into her office. "I'm here to do a full examination with you today, is that okay?" Timothy nodded, "Okay, we'll start with a few questions. What's your full name Timothy?"

Timothy grabbed Jason's hand tightly. "Timothy Jackson Drake." He said quietly.

And crap. Jason had heard of the Drakes. Jack Drake was one of the wealthy elite of Gotham, though he and his wife, Janet, were notorious for not being in Gotham itself. Preferring instead to spends weeks abroad on archaeological digs. It was their hobby. He couldn't remember anything about them having children, though from the look on Bruce's face, he could.

Dr Thompkins hummed, typing something on her computer, "And how old are you Timothy?"

Timothy's silent, looking at his lap, "I'm not sure; I was ten."

There was a crack and all eyes turned to Bruce, his phone screen was cracked where he'd been gripping it too hard.

"Sorry." He said, "Please continue."

Dr Thompkins nodded, "Timothy, do you remember if you have any medical problems?" Timothy shook his head. "Okay, I'm going to take a blood sample, then some measurements and make sure your reactions are what we expect."

It all went rather quickly from where Jason was sitting; Timothy complied with few complaints (only that he didn't like needles, understandable really) and soon enough they were back sitting down with Dr Thompkins making some notes on her computer.

"Last question Timothy, and I'm sorry that I have to ask it, but have you ever engaged in sexual intercourse?"

It was the information that everyone wanted confirmed, needed it to be confirmed, they needed to be able to take Timothy's case to the officials, needed the perpetrators to face justice for everything they've done.

Timothy's grip on his hand returned, harder; is eyes were glistening and his breath started to get ragged. He nodded.

Jason brought him into a hug as best he could, Timothy melted into the embrace and Jason rubbed his and up and down the boy's back.

"Hey, it's okay. It's not your fault." Anger seethed in his stomach and Jason felt sick. This whole thing made him sick, how could someone do that?

"Timothy, I'm going to need to do another examination, jut to make sure everything's as it should be. Is that okay?" Dr Thompkins said.

Timothy looked at her for a moment, the nodded slowly,

"Alright, if you come over here to the bed, we'll get this over with as quickly as possible."


Bruce sent them down to the car saying he had some other matters to discuss with 'Leslie', Jason suspected that he was just wanting to discuss Timothy away from prying ears (his), but he went anyway.

Bruce sat back down on the uncomfortable clinic chairs, staring at the calendar on the otherwise blank yellow walls of the clinic.

"Leslie, thank you-" Bruce started.

"Bruce, people like Timothy are exactly who I'm here for."

"I know, but thank you."

"No problem… though I'm guessing there's something else?"

"Timothy Drake is twelve, thirteen next July. I've not heard anything about him being missing. Nothing, not a single whisper at a gala or on the street. If Timothy could be taken with no one out looking for them, how many more could there be?"

"That is probably best left to be answered by Timothy, I'll have the test results for you as soon as possible. I think it should go without saying Bruce, but get these people. They need to be off our streets."

"I'll do my best."

Before leaving the clinic Bruce made two phone calls, there were people who needed to know about this situation.