Bruce Wayne was not the only rich man in Gotham City. All of his 'neighbors' had mansions on such vast expanses of land that he had only properly met one of them.

Bruce Wayne and Jack Drake had grown up together. While they weren't friends by any means (Bruce had always found Jack, and his wife Janet, for that matter, overly aggressive and showy), they were cordial when they met in public.

Bruce sighed as he stopped at the police block in front of Drake Manor. He was trying to get home to see his boys before they had to get to bed, and he had to go on patrol. What were the police even doing here? The Drakes were supposed to be out of the country on some archeological dig.

"Sorry, Mr. Wayne." The rookie cop who came by his window said. "No one's supposed to get through without clearance from the commissioner." Bruce sighed as he got out of the car and headed for the manor. He spotted Commissioner Gordon near the front steps.

"Bruce," He called when he saw him. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to get home. What's going on here?"

"Double homicide. The housekeeper found Jack and Janet Drake tied up and shot point-blank in the head. Looks like they've been dead for a week. We found the killer in the kitchen making a sandwich." The Commissioner shook his head and excused himself to respond to one of his officers.

Bruce was speechless. He'd always considered the Drakes massive bores, but they hardly deserved this. The sudden sound of screaming shook him from his thoughts. Commissioner Gordon was coming out of the house with a crying child in his arms.

"Bruce, you have kids. Help me out here." The agitated man pleaded. "You've been a father longer than I have Jim." Bruce countered. "Yeah well, Barbara never cried like this." The Commissioner insisted, shoving the little boy into the billionaire's arms and rushing back to his men.

Bruce looked down at the little black-haired boy. He was red in the face and shaking. "Shh. You're safe now. It's alright. You're going to be ok. Shh." He soothed. The boy's cries quieted a bit as he looked up at the man holding him.

Tears were still streaming from his light blue eyes, and every few seconds he'd let out a small hiccup, but he was starting to calm down. "There you go. That's better." Bruce whispered, rubbing circles in the boy's back. The boy let out a yawn and leaned against his shoulder. It was late, and the child had clearly tired himself out. Bruce motioned for Commissioner Gordon to speak softly as he reapproached.

"His name is Timothy Drake. Jack and Janet's son." Gordon said, holding out the boy's birth certificate. Bruce raised a brow. The Drakes bragged about everything. How had he not known they'd had a son? "According to this, he's about seven." The Commissioner continued. If Bruce opened his eyes any wider, they'd roll out of his head. He looked at the little boy asleep in his arms. He was so tiny and frail. He didn't look like he couldn't be any older than five.

"We'll see if he has any other relatives, but he'll have to go into foster care till then." Gordon finished reaching to take Timothy. "I'll take care of that." Bruce insisted holding the sleeping boy closer. "You finish up here."

Jim tried to ask if he was serious, but Bruce just nodded and headed for his car. The Commissioner waved him through, and Bruce drove home to Wayne manor.

III

"Master Bruce, I thought we discussed bringing home strays." Alfred said as his oldest charge came through the door with a sleeping child. Bruce handed him Timothy's birth certificate and explained the situation of the night.

"This happened so close to us." Bruce whispered, trying not to wake the boy. "This could have been Dick and Jason. I couldn't just leave him there." Alfred nodded and took Timothy to put him to bed. "Master Dick and Master Jason were just put to bed." The old butler informed, and Bruce nodded.

Dick was already sound asleep when Bruce checked on him, but Jason woke up at the sound of someone entering his room. "Daddy?" He mumbled sleepily. "Shh. Go back to sleep. We need to talk in the morning." Bruce told his son softly, handing him the black teddy bear that had fallen to the floor.

"Ok. But whatever it is, I didn't do it." The boy muttered as he fell back asleep. "Sweet dreams Jaybird." Bruce smiled.

Timothy had no idea where he was when he woke up. This wasn't his room. This wasn't any room in his house. He crept into the hallway and towards the staircase. The smell of food cooking drafted up the stairs and his mouth watered. He tiptoed down the stairs towards the scent.

As he got closer, he could hear voices. He stopped just at the edge of the door frame and tried to listen. "So he was hiding the house the whole time, and the murderer never knew? That's crazy." Someone said. "Your sense of empathy is amazing as usual." Someone else replied. Both of the voices sounded young. Kids.

"He's only going to be here for a few days until the police find some family members." An older voice continued. "That's what you said about Jay." One of the kids pointed out. "Two years later, I'm still here." The other kid added smugly.

Timothy leaned forward to listen closer but lost his balance and landed in front of the doorway. The three voices looked over at him: one grown-up and two boys, all with black hair and blue eyes. Timothy recognized the man who'd comforted him the night before and didn't try to squirm away when he came over and picked him up.

"Glad to see you're awake." He smiled then turned to the boys sitting at the table. "Timothy, these are my boys, Dick and Jason."

"Hi Timmy! I'm Dick!" The older boy said, excitedly jumping up from his seat to get a closer look at the little boy. Tim looked from Dick to Jason, who was glaring at him from his seat. Tim clung to the man a bit tighter. That boy scared him.

"Master Bruce, you should all be on your way." Tim looked up and saw a well-dressed older man clearing away the breakfast dishes. Bruce set him down in a chair and turned to leave with Dick and Jason close behind. Tim slipped down from his seat and followed them to the front door. Bruce looked down as he pulled his coat on and noticed he had an extra shadow.

"No, Tim, I have to go to work. You can't come," Bruce explained, crouching down to the boy's level. Tim pointed to where Jason and Dick were slinging on their backpacks. "They're going to school." Bruce told him. "You're going to stay here with Alfred. He'll take good care of you." He ruffled the little boy's hair and rushed the older boys out the door.

"Would you like some breakfast, Master Timothy?" Alfred asked. Tim nodded and followed him back to the kitchen.

After two days at Wayne Manor, it became that Timothy was nothing like Jason. He wasn't even like Dick. Tim was quiet. He stayed out of the way. He spent every day, every waking moment, in the library reading books way above the reading level of any normal kid his age. He helped Alfred when the old butler allowed it and played with Dick, who adored him.

Jason was the only one who didn't seem to warm up Timothy. He never just looked at the little boy. He glared at him. If Tim was reading in the library, Jason took his homework to the kitchen. If Tim was playing with Dick in the living room, Jason stomped up to his bedroom and locked the door.

Tim was too quiet for Jason. Not just quiet, silent. He almost never heard the little boy coming. And Tim never spoke. Ever. He hadn't said a single word since Bruce had brought him home. He nodded or shook his head in answer to questions and pointed at something if he wanted it. He never said a word.

III

Batman confirmed that Timothy had no other living relatives long before the police did. Three weeks after Bruce brought Timothy home, the Gotham City Police Department confirmed what they already knew.

A week after that, Bruce Wayne finalized the adoption papers, and they all happily welcomed Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne to the family. Well, everyone except Jason.

Jason found Tim exactly where he knew he'd be, sitting on in the middle of the library reading. Jason stormed towards his new 'little brother' and grabbed his book. Tim whined and reached for his book back, but Jason held it high over his own head and out of Tim's reach.

"Nu-uh. You want it? Say so! With words!" Tim looked up at him for a second before running to the far side of the library. When he returned, he handed Jason a scrap of paper with, 'please?" written on it in neat tiny letters. Jason crushed the note in his fist and glared down at the little boy.

"You think that's funny?" He snapped, and Tim shrank back. "You don't get to come here and try to take my place without saying a word! Speak! Speak damn you! Speak!" He shoved Tim to the floor just as Dick came through the door. "Jason!" He yelled, running over to where Tim was sprawled.

Dick cradled the little boy's head in his lap and shhh-ed him softy. Jason growled. Even when he was crying, Tim didn't make a sound. "What is wrong with you?" Dick snapped. "He's a little kid! He didn't do anything to you!" "He was born!" Jason roared, slamming the book on the floor and storming up to his room.

III

Dick didn't tell Bruce or Alfred about the incident in the library, much to Jason's relief, but he did point out to Bruce that Tim hadn't spoken. Bruce said he'd look into getting Tim a speech therapist.

Jason pouted as he got out of the car. Bruce had been called to an emergency meeting at Wayne Enterprises, and Dick was spending the day in Central City with his best friend, Wally West. That meant Jason had to be dragged to the mall with Alfred and Replacement. On the bright side, Alfred had the sense to leave them at the mall playground while he ran his errands.

"I'll return in exactly one hour." Alfred told them. "Master Jason, keep an eye on Master Timothy." He said, almost as if he knew Jason was planning to ditch the kid as soon as possible.

Jason ran for the jungle gym as soon as Alfred left. Tim started to follow him but changed his mind when he remembered the hate in Jason's eyes the day before. He headed to the swings instead.

He took the last open spot and started rocking back and forth to get going. (He couldn't quite reach the ground.) After a minute or so, he still hadn't made much progress. "Need a push?" A girl about Jason's age asked him. Tim nodded only to be shoved off his swing and land face first in the gravel. The girl started laughing as she took his spot.

Jason saw everything from where he was perched on top of the monkey bars. He was down and over by the swing set in a heartbeat. "What's the matter with you?" Jason sneered at the girl as he helped Tim to his feet. "None of your beeswax." The girl snipped and kept on swinging. Jason stopped the swing and grabbed the front of the girl's shirt, his fist already cocked behind his head.

"My little brother is my business you asshole!" He growled. The girl looked scared for a second then smirked. "You wouldn't hit a lady." Jason thought for a second before driving his fist into her gut. "Good thing you ain't a lady." He grinned as she crumpled to the ground. The girl slinked off like the snake she was as Jason turned back to Tim, who was looked for all the world as if he wished he could disappear.

"You ok Timmy?" Jason asked, and the little boy nodded. Jason put a hand on Tim's shoulder, and the little boy winced. Jason hated himself for that. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday." He sighed. "I didn't mean any of the stuff I said. I mean, I did, but it's not your fault. Can we start over? Tim looked up at him with his big blue eyes and nodded.

"Great. I'm Jason, and I'm your new big brother, and I'm gonna need you to start talking." Tim smiled at that. "Seriously though, Timmy, you gotta stand up for yourself. I might not always be there to protect you, so you gotta do it, wheatear it's with words or fists. Got it?" Tim nodded again and gave his big brother a hug. "Now let's get out of here before she comes back with her mom."

Dick and Bruce were pleasantly surprised when they came home to find Tim and Jason asleep on the couch, Tim wrapped tightly in his brother's arms. Dick smiled. He knew Jay would come around.

Tim was waiting in the living room for his brothers when they came home from school. They were about to pull out their homework when Tim held out the box of Candyland. "W-w-wanna p-play?" He stammered softly. The boys just looked at him for a second. Tim started to take a step back, worried he'd said something wrong.

"Oh yeah!" Jason yelled; scooping Timmy into such a tight hug, he lifted the boy off the ground. Dick laughed and helped set up the game. "Hey Timmy?" Dick started as he moved his piece. "How come you didn't talk to us before?"

"Children should be seen, not heard." Tim said softly. It was clearly something he'd been taught to say. "That's bullshit." Jason spat as he took his turn. "Language Jay." Dick scolded, then turned to Tim. "But he's right. We're your family, and you can talk to us about anything and everything. We want you to." "Ok." Tim smiled.

A few minutes later, Bruce leaned on the doorframe and watched his boys playing together. He discreetly snapped a picture with his phone. "Not to ruin the moment, but don't you have homework?" He smiled as the boys looked up. "Aww come on. If I have to play a baby game, I at least wanna finish it." Jason pleaded. "Alright, but don't take too long." Bruce smiled and turned to leave.

"W-wanna play Daddy?" Bruce froze then whipped around, gawking at his youngest son. "Did he just…? He can…" He stammered, suddenly unable to get a thought together. "Dad he's seven. Of course he can talk." Jason smirked. Bruce just smiled as he lifted Tim into his arms and sat down in front of the board.

"Can I see the Batcave?" Tim asked a few minutes later. His family just stared at him. They were doing that a lot today. "Who told you about that?" Jason demanded to which Dick smacked him over the head. "I figured it out." Tim said simply as he drew a card and moved his piece.

"Well then you'll have to see it." Bruce grinned and ruffled his hair.