Tim Drake Steals Himself A Family, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Part 4 (rough draft)
Tim wasn't sure how long he'd been working before the older boys came back into the kitchen. Dick dragged a chair right next to Tim, plopped down into it, and slung his arm over the back of Tim's chair.
Tim froze in surprise. Dick Grayson was...really close to him. It was both exciting and nerve-racking. Were they finally ready to call him out on his lies?
"Hi, Timmy!"
Act natural. Call him by a nickname, too. "Hi, Dickie," Tim managed.
"Bruce kicked us out of the cave, so Jay and I, your awesome big brothers, decided to rescue you from school and do something fun."
Tim tried not to gulp. Nightwing and Robin wanted to do something fun with him. Heck, Nightwing had called himself Tim's brother. Tim felt like he'd fallen into the Twilight Zone.
"Come on," Jason said, "let's go outside and kick a ball around or something."
Nightwing and Robin wanted to play sports with Tim. Tim wasn't un-athletic or anything, he practiced physical skills so that he could keep up with the Bats as best he could without a car or grappling line, but he was still way out of their league. He was totally going to embarrass himself. But it was okay, because Nightwing and Robin wanted to play with him, at least until they discovered how far beneath their level he was, got disgusted, and gave up. Tim was determined to treasure however many minutes they were willing to spare for him.
They spent a lot longer in the back yard than Tim expected. Neither of the older boys bothered to explain much of soccer and volleyball, and Tim only knew the bare minimum of each, but for some reason, they didn't seem to be annoyed with him for playing wrong. Now, badminton, he was familiar with, and he did his best to not embarrass himself, at least.
Neither of the older boys ever got annoyed with him for playing poorly, which was weird. Tim was also less distracted by nerves than he expected, partly because he was so glad to get to watch Dick Grayson in action.
Dick was amazing. He treated sports balls like they were extensions of his body, and he was so quick and flexible, making impossible twists and turns to maneuver the ball around his opponents. Tim discovered, to his delight, that if he hit the volleyball high enough, Dick would actually do a flip on his way up to intercept it. Although Dick didn't seem quite as one with the shuttlecock, he did twirl the badminton racket around as he played in what was almost a dance. Basically, everything he did was a joy to watch, and Tim was glad to have the chance to do so out in the open.
Jason was fun to watch, too. Though not nearly as graceful or skilled as his brother, he had a raw power to his movements that Tim admired. Tim couldn't help ducking away from some of his shots because the risk of getting genuinely hurt wasn't worth stopping Jason from scoring a point. No wonder Jason made a good Robin; he could turn anything into a weapon.
They had been having so much fun (well, Tim had, at least) that he was caught off guard when Dick and Jason ended the session abruptly. Then he was surprised by the way they fussed over him. It wasn't a big deal, he'd just scraped his arm, he'd gotten worse injuries climbing around Gotham at night. They were treating him like a little kid.
"This is going to sting," Jason warned as he held Tim's arm in one hand and a cotton ball with antiseptic in the other.
"I know, Jason," Tim said, trying not to let his exasperation show. Obviously cleaning injuries hurt, but it had to be done. He wasn't a baby. And Dick Grayson was rubbing his back for some reason, which felt so nice that it distracted Tim from the pain.
Once Tim was bandaged up, the older boys decided that instead of going back outside to play, they were all going to watch a movie. Tim was alarmed when they offered to let him pick, then distressed when they got insistent. He didn't know if it was some kind of trap, and he was starting to get too frazzled to be properly on guard for those. Even if they were being genuinely nice, he found that he just...couldn't pick. He stared at the options and his insides seemed to twist with dread. He didn't know Dick and Jason well enough to be able to guess what kind of movies they enjoyed. What if he picked something they didn't like? Or that they'd already seen and would get bored with? He couldn't...he couldn't handle it. He'd dodged so very, very many bullets today, and each one seemed to increase his dread of how much it would hurt when one finally found his mark. He liked being part of the Waynes' family, dammit, no matter how fake it all was.
"Fine; how about Lilo & Stitch, then?" Dick pouted.
Tim didn't pause to register the title, he simply nodded in deep relief. He'd watch anything if it meant putting an end to the pressure.
Tim was surprised by how close Dick sat to him as they watched, even sharing a blanket with him. Jason shared snacks. It all felt like something real siblings would do, and Tim was so, so relieved that the older boys didn't seem to be angry at him for refusing to pick a movie. After a while, he was even able to relax a bit.
o.o.o
That night, Tim did his best to hide his excitement when the Waynes started making their way to the study where the entrance to the cave was. He was already practicing which directions to send casual glances in order to get a better look at the (DINOSAUR) things in the cave he hadn't gotten to get a good look at the first time around.
Dick and Jason kept him busy chatting, but he still managed to let his eyes roam over the (DINOSAUR DINOSAUR WHERE IN THE WORLD DID BATMAN GET A DINOSAAAUUURR?!) main points of interest. He still hoped to eventually get a chance to look more closely at the (DINOSAUR) various Bat cars and the computer and the lab, but for now, this second chance to glance around at least took the edge off his curiosity.
Dick and Jason were changing into their real, actual costumes; it was so cool. Tim wasn't just standing next to Dick Grayson and Jason Wayne, he was standing next to Nightwing and Robin. Sooooo cool.
"You think you're going out with us, shrimp?" Jason asked, eyeing Tim's backpack.
Tim had already thought of what to say if the issue of him going out with the Bats on patrol came up. "I've been keeping to my word, I've never gotten in you guys' way. Right, Dad?" Tim did his best to keep his expression casual even as he braced for Batman to order him to stay in the cave. (Or to kick him out. Tim was having less and less idea why the Waynes were taking their sweet time about that.)
"That's true," Mr. Wayne said, which was not what Tim was expecting. The absolute best-case scenario was permission to accompany them. Tim's brain blanked in response to Batman just...agreeing as if Tim really had made some promise that he was upholding.
"Not gonna wear a mask?" Dick asked.
Tim felt breathless. Were they...were they actually offering to let him wear a domino mask...? He wanted very badly to leap at the chance, just because it would be so cool to get to wear the same mask as Robin and Nightwing, but it was too risky. For all his plans, he'd never expected to need a vigilante persona, and he hadn't put any thought (any serious thought, anyway; daydreams didn't count) into a Bat persona of his own. That wasn't something he could improvise well enough to be worth it.
Better stick as close to the truth as he could - he tagged along, stayed hidden, learned what he could from observation, and sometimes took pictures. "I'm not official, and no one's ever recognized me before." Timothy Drake wasn't as recognizable as his parents, and when he was on the streets of Gotham, so far removed from his family's usual sphere, no one had ever looked at him twice. (...Honestly, people rarely looked at him twice even when he was in his proper social circle.)
"Come on," Jason said, and then Tim was being presented with Robin masks.
He managed to suppress the urge to audibly squee as the older boys held up various domino masks to Tim's face, apparently trying to find one that fit. When they settled on one, Dick applied a substance that he called 'Bat-glue' ("Sticks to skin pretty well but doesn't hurt much to take off," Jason explained, "plus it'll keep sticking if you need to put the mask back on").
And then Tim was a vigilante.
Not for real, of course, but, just... He was wearing a mask. He really did feel like one of them (even though he obviously wasn't). He knew he was probably grinning like a total idiot, but he couldn't stop.
"Looking good~" Dick teased, but it made Tim feel good, anyway.
He was soon jolted back to reality when Batman ordered him to present his gear. Tim felt a little panicked, but he didn't have any choice, there was no good reason to refuse. He emptied his bags on a nearby table and then stepped back, trying to talk himself back into being calm. The worst that could happen was that Batman would kick him out, which Tim had been expecting to happen a lot sooner than this. Actually, the worst that could happen was that Batman (and Nightwing and Robin) would yell at him first and tell him he was a horrible person, then kick him out. They were just words, though; he was pretty sure none of the Waynes would physically harm him, so there was no reason to be upset. Just take the scolding, hike back to Drake Manor, and focus on all the good things that had happened.
Batman frowned at Tim's stuff, but surprisingly, he didn't say a single word of criticism. As the silence stretched on and the man continued to inspect Tim's gear without saying anything, Tim racked his brains for anything specific Batman could be displeased about.
Maybe the fact that there was no camera included was suspicious, since Tim's 'job' on patrol was supposedly to take photos? It had been a wrench to leave it behind, but he hadn't been able to fit everything he wanted to bring in the backpack, so he'd had to prioritize. He'd had to leave behind his camera, ruthlessly ignoring his sentimental attachment and reasoning that it would be an easy thing to replace in the event that Tim lasted long enough to need it. In the meantime, there was always his phone - not ideal for taking pictures at night, but he had selected his current model with night photography in mind, so it could get the job done for evidence-gathering, at least.
Tim needed to come up with a reason for the lack of camera that fit with his lies. "I'm really, really sorry I broke the camera," he ventured. "But I can still do recon and stuff."
"Grapple gun?" Batman said.
The abrupt subject change threw Tim for a second, and then he had to take another second to figure out what the heck the man was talking about. Ah - grapple guns were a vigilante staple, so it was probably suspicious that Tim didn't have any in his gear. He needed a convincing reason for not having one, like maybe it was a class of equipment that a newbie like him wouldn't be permitted to use yet. "I've been good! And if I did try to sneak one in, I wouldn't just put it in my bag."
"Wait, you don't know how to use a grapple gun?" Dick said incredulously.
Oops. Apparently a newbie would be expected to have one after all. Oh well; nothing for it but to keep pressing the lie Tim had already established. "Uh, no, because someone-" he looked meaningfully at Batman, "-keeps saying I'm 'not ready yet.' "
"You're not ready for swinging," the man said, "but you need to know the basics. Dick, teach him. Ascending and descending only."
Tim's heart seemed to leap inside him. They were- They were actually going to teach him how to use a grapple gun?! 'Don't squee out loud, don't squee out loud, DON'T SQUEE OUT LOUD,' he silently commanded himself.
Then he had to suppress the urge to flinch when Batman suddenly stooped to look him straight in the eye. Tim forced himself to meet the man's gaze. "Timothy," Batman growled, "swinging between buildings is dangerous. You need a huge amount of practice to be able to do it safely on a consistent basis. For now, Dick's only going to teach you how to move between the ground and a roof."
'Who cares; still cool!' Tim forced himself to calm down enough to spout some dutiful-sounding reassurance. He needed to convince Batman that he understood the risks and was taking this seriously, or Batman might not think he was ready to learn after all.
Whatever he rambled seemed to do the trick, because Dick then took him aside and started teaching him how to, as Dick called it, 'fly.' It was just as cool as it sounded.
TBC