Tim Drake Steals Himself A Family, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Part 5 (rough draft)
Learning how to use a grapple gun was wonderful, but less so was being ambushed with questions Tim hadn't been smart enough to prepare for.
"So, Timmy, what's your hero name?" Dick asked at one point.
Tim started frantically flipping through his vigilante daydreams and conjuring new possibilities and rushing through his mental database of already-named heroes, trying to find a name that wasn't either already taken or embarrassing. So of course his mind immediately presented him with the options of 'Batboy,' 'Timbat,' and 'Slinker Through The Night.'
'DO BETTER, BRAIN,' he thought savagely at himself. None of those options were at all acceptable, and he was running out of time. He'd already used one "Uh" to stall and could only afford one more, maximum, before he crossed the line into looking incompetent enough to never be allowed on the streets. Superheroes needed to be quick thinkers.
Tim himself wasn't actually qualified to be a hero, though. His skills lay more in support work, sneaking and documenting and...maybe strategizing. If he were a real member of the team instead of an impostor, the only good he could do in the field would be to scout ahead, trail behind, or serve as backup if all the other A-listers were incapacitated.
'Time's up.' Out loud, he blurted, "Backup," then suppressed a chagrined wince.
"Your hero name is 'Backup'?" Dick said, sounding just as dubious as the name deserved.
Crap. Damage control. "Um, I don't really have a real hero name, because I'm not...a hero, you know? I only do support work. 'Backup' is just, uh, what Jason teases me with, 'cause you know...I'm the backup if, uh..." His delivery was atrocious, but the explanation itself was decent - at least, Tim thought it was until, to his absolute horror, Jason took offense.
"If I die? Is that your game, you little creep, wait for your chance to off me and then get to be Robin?!"
'Nononono abort, abort, abort!' "No! You're Robin, Jason, I'd never-! I just-! I'd never want to replace you! You're the best!"
Dick suggested soothingly, "How about Baby Bird? 'Cause you're the littlest one in our flock here."
Tim felt condescended to and a little humiliated, but he nodded, anyway, accepting the punishment.
"Let's call him 'Sneakface,' " Jason muttered, which Tim actually kind of preferred.
He was a little startled when Batman broke into the conversation, rumbling, "Let's not assign him a name without giving him a chance to think about it."
Tim couldn't believe he'd been granted the mercy of a second chance, but he accepted it gracefully, having had time by now to think of a halfway-decent alternative. "I can go by Shadow or something until I think of something better," he offered, bracing himself to be told he'd still have to go by 'Baby Bird.'
But, "Shadow it is," was all Dick said, ruffling his hair. The gesture was so quick that Tim didn't quite have time to enjoy it after processing what had been said, but that was okay. He appreciated it all the same.
He followed the rest of the Bats' routine as best he could, then settled into the car when ordered to. On the drive out of Bristol, he occupied himself mainly by suppressing his squee at getting to ride in the actual Batmobile, then settled down to watch the scenery flying by outside and anticipate what it would be like to be an officially sanctioned part of the Bats' patrol.
Then he was waking up. Because he'd apparently fallen asleep, and now Batman and Robin were waiting on him. "Batman, I am so, so sorry," he gasped, getting out of the car as quickly as he could.
"Quiet," was all Batman said, and Tim instantly shut his mouth. "Get to the roof."
Tim was going to get to use the grapple gun in the field. His insides were still squirming with shame at having fallen asleep, but the some of the squee had still managed to creep back.
He tried to be careful but not too slow as he took aim and pulled the trigger. He squeezed the button to lock the line and gave it a couple of testing tugs, then unlocked it and hit the retract dial, playing with a few different speeds. He felt himself grinning hugely as he ascended, vaguely aware of Batman hovering nearby.
Once on the roof, Tim hesitantly stepped up with the others, wondering if he was going to be scolded, but no one mentioned that he'd fallen asleep in the car before patrol had even started.
"We'll take our normal route," Batman said. "Shadow, how do you usually keep up with us?"
Tim felt a pang of alarm. There it was again, Batman inexplicably playing along with the ruse. Was this a test, to try to catch Tim in an inconsistency? He didn't have a lot of options, though, since he had so little training and experience with grappling. "I usually have my bike with me, and there's always rideshare," he said, continuing with his real transportation options while following the Bats around Gotham.
The silence that followed made him uneasy, but eventually, Batman simply said, "It's better if we stick together."
Then Tim got to fly with Batman. He submitted to being strapped to the man and then clung to Batman the way he was instructed. The vigilante shot his grapple gun - and jumped.
Tim felt himself wearing that giant grin again as they swung. It was just as fun as he'd imagined, feeling the wind in his hair and the swoop in his belly. He paid attention to the armored body he clung to, doing his best to lean in a way that didn't disrupt the swing or the distribution of body weight.
Once they finally came to a stop and Tim was released, he was startled and delighted to hear Nightwing's voice crackling in his ear. He was getting to hear the Bats on their actual comms!
"Got a car chase on my end," the older teen reported.
"Need help?" Robin asked.
"Nah, I got it. Just checking in so B doesn't worry."
Batman, Robin, and Tim went on the move again soon after that, looking for crime to stop. Tim got to watch Robin handle a mugging without having to hide, though he lamented the loss of his camera. The fight offered plenty of great shots if Tim had had the right equipment, and he felt both excited and nervous when Batman actually offered to buy him a new camera soon. Tim wouldn't turn it down, but it was...really weird for the people he was duping to offer to buy him expensive things. This whole thing was weird, the way he'd been allowed to get away with his ridiculous scheme for so long, and he tried not to think about it too hard because then he'd spoil all this awesomeness with anxiety.
Eventually, Tim had the privilege of getting to watch Batman in the act of responding to the Bat-Signal. On the roof of the police station, he hid where he was directed and watched eagerly as Batman and Robin consulted with Commissioner Gordon, once again lamenting the loss of his camera.
He couldn't hear everything that was said, but he picked up enough to know that the call was about Scarecrow. A few minutes later, Batman and Robin took off.
Tim was halfway down the maintenance ladder on the outside of the building when it suddenly occurred to him that this wasn't just a normal night of him tailing the vigilantes. They'd actually known he was here this time, and he'd been directed to hide. Did the fact that he was no longer hiding count as insubordination?
The thought made Tim pause, but then he shook his head and resumed his downward climb. He'd been lucky enough for the Bats to tolerate his presence on a mild patrol where they only had to deal with low-level criminals, but when it came to Rogues, of course they wouldn't want Tim slowing them down. That didn't mean he had to just wait uselessly for them to come back and pick him up. In the absence of any instructions, he might as well default to his usual practices (albeit minus the camera, unfortunately).
Energized, Tim took out the Bat phone he'd temporarily been given for patrol, summoned a rideshare, and hid out of sight of any nefarious passersby who might get tempted by the sight of a child all alone at night. Then, as he waited for the car to arrive, he played with the phone's camera app, seeing if it was good enough to get some decent shots at night.
The answer ended up being yes, it was, which made sense because it was equipment designed by the nocturnal Bats; but it still felt like a victory to Tim. He took a photo of a tiny clump of mushrooms growing out of a crack in the brick wall beside him and a foraging rat and a laughing sex worker passing by with a client, then his ride pulled up to the curb and he scrambled to get in.
"Oh, hey, Tim," the driver greeted.
"Hi, Darnell. Hey, could you just kind of head generally southwest? I forgot to look up my exact destination." He mentally scolded himself for getting distracted by the camera app instead of hunting Batman, Robin, and Scarecrow.
"Sure, kiddo."
Tim was five minutes into his social media search, calling out narrowed-down directions to the driver, when he suddenly realized what a colossal idiot he was being. This wasn't his usual phone, it was a Bat phone. Batman had literally showed him how to use the most important apps just a few hours ago.
Tim quickly backed out of social media and pulled up the tracking app instead. Four dots appeared on the map. Ignoring his own and Nightwing's, Tim zoomed in on Batman's and Robin's, which allowed him to get more specific with his directions.
Now that he knew where to go, he leaned back and started paying more attention to the comm chatter in his ears. The vigilantes, usually Batman, kept contacting Agent A (even Alfred got a code name, which was so cool) to look up various information. Tim replicated the research as best he could on the cell phone, amusing himself by trying to see if he could put the clues together faster than Batman. He felt extremely pleased the couple of times he reached conclusions before Batman did that turned out to be right, though of course he kept quiet so as not to sound suspicious to the rideshare driver. Not that he would have bragged, anyway, but still; it was nice to be able to score a couple of points in this dumb little game he was playing with himself.
Eventually, Batman and Robin found the building Scarecrow had been using as a home base.
"Sorry, kiddo," Darnell apologized when Tim gave him the address. "There's been a Rogue alert in that neighborhood, I can't take you there."
"I'll be fine, Darnell," Tim said impatiently, but the driver got stubborn, then actually drove away when Tim attempted to exit the vehicle. "Hey! This is abduction!"
"No, it's getting the ten-year-old out of range of the supervillain before he gets hurt."
"I'm twelve!"
"Same difference."
Tim pouted, but had to wait until they got what Darnell judged was a safe distance away and the car finally stopped. "You want me to just drive you home, kid? I won't charge you for it."
"No, I'm fine. Thank you, Darnell," Tim said coolly as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. For a split second, he considered giving a low rating, but then sighed and tapped on five stars after all. The driver's heart had been in the right place, even if Tim didn't want to be protected like an average child.
He set off towards Scarecrow's base on foot, wishing he had his bike, then wanted to smack himself on the forehead. 'Stop forgetting you're with the vigilantes this time,' he scolded himself as he stepped into an alley, made sure he was alone, then took out his spiffy new grapple gun.
Once on the roof, he hesitated, looking at the next rooftop over. Batman had specifically limited him to ascending and descending, but... The other roof wasn't far away, and Tim would be very careful. Nothing bad would happen, Batman would never find out about him disobeying orders, and it was definitely a lot safer making his way across rooftops than it would be running around on foot below, where he could get grabbed by traffickers or other criminals.
Tim shot his grapple gun. He tugged on the line to make sure it was secure. He peered at the distance, mentally estimating how he'd have to swing in order to cross the gap.
...No, he really was too inexperienced. If he misjudged, he'd crash into a wall and could seriously hurt himself.
Chewing on his lip, he looked behind him. He hadn't expected to need the second grapple gun the Bats had added to his backpack ("Always have backups of vital equipment"), but maybe...
Holding the first gun with his feet so as not to have to redo the line, he dug out the second grapple gun, put the backpack back on, returned the first gun to his hand, then shot the second gun behind him. He tugged. It came loose. He retracted it and shot it again. This time it held firm, and he took a deep breath, facing forward again. He got onto the edge of the roof and made sure both lines were as taut as he could get them without losing his hold.
Then, very carefully, his heart pounding in his chest, he stepped off the roof.
'Arm strength arm strength ARM STRENGTH,' he mentally screamed at himself, determined to make arm-strengthening exercises a higher priority in his workout routine. He was fairly strong already thanks to clambering around Gotham for years, but hoisting himself onto ledges and ladders was far different than clinging for his life with his fingers, his full body weight hanging in midair, his grip on two grapple guns literally the only thing preventing him from plummeting to his death.
He shoved the retraction dial harder, increasing the speed, desperate to make it to the next rooftop before his lost his grip.
He tumbled onto the roof in a rough landing, immediately losing his half-numb hold on the grapple guns. Temporarily abandoning the one attached to the new roof, he frantically flopped onto the second line, pinning it with his body weight before it could finish slithering out of reach.
He lay there for a minute, getting his breath back. Then, carefully, he took hold of the second gun and retracted the line.
Okay. He could do this. Probably only a few more times, but it would get him within the evacuation zone, and by then, the area would probably be deserted enough that he could safely travel the rest of the way on street level, only having to dodge law enforcement and minions.
Tim grinned and stood up, ready for the next crossing. It would be better now that he knew what to expect; he'd just have to start with a faster retraction speed so he'd spend less time in the air and straining his arms. Probably also ought to tie the grapple guns to his hands just in case he lost his grip. "Let's do this," he murmured cheerfully, and headed to the far edge of the roof.
TBC