"Tim, are you going to be the kind of boy that tells the teacher the dog ate your homework, or are you going to take responsibility and own that you left it on the floor for the dog to get a hold of?" Janet asked livid standing above the seven-year-old.
Tim dutifully shook his head no. Looking at the broken shards of glass that used to be a vase. Trying to understand what she meant by homework and dogs when he wasn't allowed to have any pets. The vase was utterly shattered he had been playing when he skipped on the hardwood floors and bumped into a table that held the vase.
"Use your works, Timothy. You aren't a baby anymore," Janet said coldly.
"No ma'am. I want to take," Tim hesitated for a moment going over the words he wanted to say before continuing. "Responsibility for my actions. How do you want me to do that?"
"How do you think you should do it?" Janet asked and Tim hated those open-ended questions that never had an answer good enough for her.
"The vase was expensive so I could pay for it?" Tim asked with uncertainty still in his voice.
"How will you pay for a $25,000.00 vase, Timothy? Will you get a job and in ten years be able to pay it off? You're seven and have yet to learn that your thoughtless actions have consequences," Janet said her eyes still boring holes into him.
"My nanny cost a lot of money. I can watch myself and that will pay for the vase. I promise I won't be bad! I'll do everything she does and I'll pay back the vase!" Tim said, getting excited at his solution.
"And when the police find out that you don't have anyone watching you and we go to jail because of your mistake what then?" Janet asked sternly.
"I won't let anyone know. It's summer so no one needs to pick me up from school. I can do it, I can be good and be responsible for myself," Tim said, proud to work in the word that mother loved so much.
"That is acceptable. Do not mess this up or you won't like what happens next young man," Janet threatened and Tim was reminded again that he never wanted to find out what she meant by that so he would have to be extra good.
He had the opportunity to prove himself the next week when they left for Belize. Tim went through what Nanny did and tried to do it well enough for himself. Making oatmeal for breakfast was lumpier than when she did it. It was fine though because he owed his parents a lot of money. Nanny had told him goodbye and that she would be thinking of him. His parents had never told him that.
Tim wanted to apologize to her, tell her it was all his fault that she lost her job. He was too scared to do it though. He still remembered how she got to his level and pulled him into a hug that totally wrapped around him. She felt so warm and soft. His mother's hugs felt hard and bony. His father didn't hug him. It was Tim's fault for putting the homework where the dog could get to it.
Tim started to count the tiles on the ceiling. The ballroom had 308 tiles. He made a fort in his room with all the blankets on his bed and noticed to his utmost dismay that it was hard to maneuver in clothes that were tight and constricting. He didn't have the money to buy new clothes, he had to be good and not need anything that costed a penny. Twenty-five thousand was a lot of money to pay back.
He made sure to turn out the lights whenever he left a room and if the sun was out he could sit in a window and not even need them on so he wouldn't run up the electric bill. He hoped that by school time he would have made up the difference and wouldn't have to stay alone anymore. It was hard to count ceiling tiles to pass the time when you knew the numbers by heart. It was hard to read when no one was there when he got stuck on a word.
September came and so did his parents. His clothes didn't fit in May, they certainly didn't fit in the least now. He didn't open the door to the foodservice people anymore because he didn't want them to see how short the pant legs were getting much less that he was alone. He was eight now that was older he surely was more responsible now.
His father rolled his eyes at him when he saw his short-waisted Batman shirt. "Do you still believe in that myth?"
Tim didn't tell him that he would always believe in Batman. Janet took him school shopping. She got his school uniforms, a new suit, and 2 pairs of around the house clothes. They left the week after and Tim discreetly took some of the clothes back and bought lower quality clothes so he could have a little money in case he needed something in the future. He didn't like it when his clothes got too little on him and now he had money that could be stretched at Goodwill.
Tim smiled to himself it was rather smart to do puppy dog eyes at customer service and he got money back instead of putting back on his mother's card. He seamlessly lied that his mother was waiting outside because she wanted him to be independent. He still had to pay back the vase and didn't deserve an allowance. He wasn't old enough for a job yet. He had to be closer to paying it back though.
School started and he kept expecting a new Nanny to come, rather stupid of himself he chided. The vase was too costly to be paid back over the summer. Tim knew better than to mention his parents were gone; it was part of his responsibility to keep that information to himself. His parents had to be proud of him for keeping the secret so well. Tim found a bike at Goodwill that was in his meager budget that would make it a lot easier to get around and it was too big for him now which was even better because he wouldn't outgrow it in any hurry. He was able to get in Gotham a lot quicker with it. He was just glad that Gotham Academy had a school bus and he didn't have to bike to school. It would raise suspicion if he had a too big bike and his mother would be angry at being distracted from work because of him if a teacher called her.
September turned into December and his parents came in for the Christmas gala. Tim got excited to see that his present was a game console. He could return it for the money it cost and his savings would be okay for a few weeks. It was the responsible thing to do when they left him for so long and he just needed to know when the vase was paid for. He still could be responsible when it was paid for. He'd show them.
They don't come back for a long time. Tim thinks it has to be because he spent some of the console money on a used camera. He wanted to join the photography club and you had to have a camera to do that. It was an older digital Nikon camera that had seen better days for sure. The club was simple but fun. He thought he made some friends there, even if he knew they thought he was weird. Tim knew he was weird; he didn't know any other kid that was disrespectful enough to break a one of a kind vase.
It's when he chases Batman and Robin that he feels less like a rotten failure. He knows who they are. Bruce Wayne goes out of town whenever Batman gets any sort of major injury and Dick Grayson gets adopted four months before Robin shows up in the Flying Grayson's colors. Tim had wanted to go to the circus, but he didn't want to be a burden. Did Dick do something bad and was working it off by working as Robin? No, he couldn't imagine Robin ever being so bad that no one could stand to be around him for more than a week and no one ever wanted to be near Tim. Robin seemed more like a reward for good behavior close to guardian it made Tim's heartbeat funny when he saw Batman put his hand on Robin's should and even with the cowl there was an expression that Tim knew his parents weren't capable of. A mix of pride and love that Tim was incapable of living up to.
He decided that the only real way to know for sure if Batman was Bruce Wayne was to follow them. He took pictures with the camera he loved that was starting to work only half the time. The more he looked at how they interacted the more he saw that Bruce (and he was sure it was Bruce Wayne now) didn't look at Robin like his parents looked at him. Like there was something fundamentally wrong with him.
Tim really hated that vase.
It was when Tim turned eleven that he started practicing breaking into the Drake family safe. It was in the basement and it had lots of expensive artifacts that his parents collected. Tim was bored and it was better than rereading the library again. He found the vase he broke in the sealed case with a piece of paper authenticating it. The safe was filled with the real pieces of art. He knew that the copies were upstairs as he looked at all the cases with real precautions.
It took every ounce of restraint to not smash that stupid vase into a million pieces. Why had his mother lied? He'd tried so hard to be good and not break valuables again. He'd lived like a beggar taking back anything he could for the money just to survive. He got his favorite Nanny fired.
"What the hell?" he asked as he thought all this time that he deserved the broken camera and skimping on clothes that didn't fit because of a vase he hadn't even broken. Did they really just didn't care that much that he was left alone just so they wouldn't have to pay a nanny? He reset the lock and did his breathing exercises. This would be much better than smashing a real $25,000 dollar vase. He researched the best fences in Gotham and decided to look into the insurance policies that his parents had on their 'priceless artifacts'. He should have known that his horrible parents wouldn't put the real valuables out. The vase he broke wasn't worth his half-broken camera.
Tim shivered as he waited for the fence to get to the arranged place. He can't wait until he has the money in his not so hot little hands. The fence is one that he knows Selina Kyle uses so he can't be that bad. He had called one fence and that hadn't ended well. On the upside, he knew a lot more cuss words than he had before calling him.
A short stocky man ambled up to him, "You the one with the vase?"
"Yeah, here is the letter of authenticity and don't try to lower the price now. I have someone else who is interested in overpriced pottery," Tim said, imitating some of the kids he'd watched while chasing Batman and Robin. He was going to have to watch his own back and not get murdered over the damn vase.
His parents probably thought that's what would happen; they really didn't care about him. He should leave a Catwoman a list of things the Drakes have in their easy to crack vault. He might have to cancel some more insurance policies first.
The man looked over the vase and the letter of authenticity after being satisfied with it being the real thing he handed Tim a few wads of money that Tim quickly counted and being satisfied that it was the full amount he put the money in his backpack and did a few loops and extra turns before going back home.
With the money, he could be more independent from his parents. There wasn't a lot an eleven-year-old could do to earn money, but when he turned eighteen he was never seeing his parents again. He didn't want to involve CPS unless things got worse. Tim was contemplating getting emancipated at sixteen but didn't want the press to catch wind of it in case it hurt his chances of getting a job.
A week he treated himself to a new camera and shoes that didn't have the sole worn down to nothing they felt amazing and fit on his feet not too big or too small. He bought a new jacket that actually fit him well and wasn't coming up to his elbows. It was warm like his last Nanny's hugs. Tim carefully stashed the rest of the cash under the floorboards in his closet and covered it with a rug. It was enough until he was eighteen and could leave and never come back.
Jack and Janet came back and Tim just waited for the other shoe to drop. It didn't take long at all for both of them to come storming up to his room, "Timothy Jackson Drake! What have you done with the Qing Dynasty vase!" Janet yelled stalking into his bedroom as he looked up innocently from his math homework.
"I broke it when I was seven. Don't you remember that's the reason you got rid of the Nanny? So I could pay it back? I know it's been a while, but I remember you had me sweep up the shards of vase and throw it away." Tim said sheepishly, "I still feel really bad about breaking it."
Tim smiled that night as he heard his parents yelling at the insurance company about a lapsed policy on a vase that Tim absolutely couldn't hate more.