As brilliant as Tim was, he knew he did not get this way by osmosis. He studied for every test, worked hard on every assignment, and absorbed every bit of knowledge he could get his hands on. And while it did get him straight As, it also meant pulling more than a few all-nighters.

III

Tim groaned at the feeling of someone continually poking his arm and blinked groggily as the rays of morning sun coming through the window hit his face. He had fallen asleep again.

He'd been in The Manor library for the past 48 studying for his history midterm. He'd missed 3 patrols and taken all his meals surrounded by his books. But despite it all, Tim felt no more prepared for his exam than when he'd started.

"Up at 'em nerd." Jason was ordering. "Wa-what time is it?" Tim yawned, still not fully conscious. "Let's just say you missed breakfast and you're gonna make us all late if you're not dressed in the next 15 minutes." Jason answered.

Tim flopped back in his seat. He could bearly put together a coherent thought. There was no way he would be ready for school in 15 minutes. Jason could tell this and, lifting his brother to his feet, dragged him to the kitchen. Tim didn't even register Jason setting him down in a chair, but the next thing he knew, there was a mug of something strong and steaming in his hands.

"Coffee?" He asked, looking up at his brother. As much as Bruce relied on his morning caffeine to get his day started, he had strict rules as it related to his sons' intake. Put simply, no coffee before they were 16. "Look," Jason started. "Bruce told me to help you get ready. This is how I help. Now chug."

Tim put the mug to his lips and took a tiny sip. It tasted so bitter, and the smell burnt his nose. Still, the warmth felt good as it spread through his chest. He tipped the rest of the mug down his throat.

As he set the cup on the table, Tim suddenly felt completely alert. It was as if he'd gotten a whole night's rest in a matter of seconds. It was no wonder Bruce swore by it. Tim called his thanks to his older brother as he ran to get ready, slipping past their father as he went.

"Tim seems well-rested," Bruce noted. "Did you get him something to eat?" Before his son could even begin to answer, Bruce noticed the empty mug on the table and the now empty coffee maker. "Jason, tell me you didn't." He sighed.

"It was just half a cup." The boy defended. "Besides, he's up and moving now." Bruce ran a hand through his hair. The damage was done. And while he would never admit it, Jason was right. Half a cup wouldn't hurt.


Tim sat up suddenly as the old grandfather clock struck the top of the hour. It was 1 AM. He'd fallen asleep. Tim groaned as he tied to rub the sleep from his eyes. He'd skipped patrol again to study, but he just couldn't seem to focus.

He usually wouldn't even need to put in this much work to excel in his classes, but this teacher was mean. He was notorious for giving the most demanding tests and rigid grades. If Tim wanted to be the first student in history to make it out of his class with an A, he had to keep studying.

Despite himself, he yawned. Whatever power that half cup of coffee had given him this morning was gone now. He thought for a moment before quietly getting up and heading for the kitchen.

Bruce wasn't back from patrol yet, and Alfred was surly asleep by now, and while he wasn't certain how to work the coffee maker, Tim had seen it done enough times to figure it out. After some trial and error, it was done.

Tim made a face as he poured the slightly lumpy black potion into a mug. It didn't look quite right, but it smelled strong, and he was sure it tasted fine as he brought it to his lips. "Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, what do you think you're doing?!" Bruce barked from the doorway with such force that Tim fumbled his mug.

"I-I-I was, "Tim started, but Bruce had crossed the room and loomed over him. "I knew I shouldn't have let Jason give you that coffee. You dump that out and get to bed this instant young man!"

"But I'm still studying and-" Tim cut himself off as he saw the almost literal steam coming from Bruce's nose. He did as he had been told, ducked out of the room, and hurried up the stairs. There was no way he'd be getting any more coffee in The Manor.

III

Tim could feel the difference in his lack of caffeine the next day as he dragged himself through his classes. Even though he had gone to bed after Bruce had sent him, he'd barely slept, and now he was paying for it.

Every word his teachers said sounded as if he was underwater, while the voices of his fellow students seemed amplified in the worst ways. "Timothy? Could I speak to you for a moment?" One of his teachers called as the class ended.

"Yes Mrs. Kay?" He mumbled as he came to stand in front of her desk. "Are you alright dear?" She asked. "I don't think you said a word all period." "I'm fine." Tim tried to lie through a literal yawn. Mrs. Kay stood up and motioned for her student to follow. Moments later, Tim realized they were in the teachers' lounge.

"Here." His teacher said, handing him a paper cup. Tim took it and immediately perked up as the strong scent hit him. "I know it's a bit unorthodox, but I think allowances can be made for my best student. And if you ever feel like you need a pick me up, you can feel free to come and get more."

Tim gave Mrs. Kay a look of pure awe as if she had handed him the key to immortality before thanking her profusely and downing his shot of caffeine. After another cup and a final round of thanks, Tim took off to his next class, reinvigorated.


Tim's school day routine now included three stops to the teachers' lounge. First thing after being dropped off for two cups to get the morning started. A quick visit at lunch for a cup to pull him through afternoon classes. And a final stop at the end of the day to fill up a thermos to drink during his late-night studies.

It was a flawless system, and while he didn't like going behind Bruce's back or breaking the rules, it would be well worth it when he aced his midterm.

Tim stopped short at the horrific sight of the empty coffee pot as he came in for his morning pick-me-up. "Wh-where's the coffee?" He sputtered to the only teacher in the room. "Sorry hon." She shrugged. "Looks like we're out. We should be good by Monday, though."

Tim stood there in shock. No coffee? Till Monday? He didn't have till Monday! His history test was in sixth period, and he had been up until 4 AM studying! The bell signaling the start of the school day guided his body into an agitated autopilot.

He was nodding through classes. The few words he did manage came out as slurred grunts. By lunch, he was stalking the halls with a feral glair etched on his face, and any student who dared stand in his way was unceremoniously shoved to the side.

Not even Mrs. Kay was spared from a dirty look when she wished Tim well on his test. Tim was swaying on his feet by the time he walked into history. But this was it. After this period, he could relax, knowing he had secured himself an A.

The teacher gave the class a hard stare and told them to begin. Tim attempted to pick up his pencil, but his fingers felt numb, and didn't seem interested in taking orders from his brain. He finally managed to wrap his entire fist around the writing utensil and looked down at his paper.

The whole thing was blurry, and little black spots kept flashing in and out of his sight. The pencil slipped from his grasp once again and rolled in front of his desk. Tim stood up to retrieve it, but his legs swayed out from under him, and he plunged into total darkness before he even felt himself hit the floor.

III

Tim groaned as he tried to blink away the sunlight streaming into his eyes. Somehow, he felt better and worse than before, and the thought alone made him dizzy.

"Welcome back." He heard Bruce say from beside him. Tim glanced over as best he could without moving. Bruce looked both worried and relieved. "Wha happened?" Tim asked, doing his best to maneuver his tongue around the feeling of cotton in his mouth.

"You passed out in class, and the school called me." Bruce explained. "Alfred says it's the worst case of caffeine withdrawal he's ever seen."

Tim moaned as he pulled a pillow over his face. Not only had his whole class watched him collapse, but they had probably also seen Bruce fuss over him and carry him out of school. Of all the embarrassing– Tim sat straight up in bed, his head pounding even harder at a sudden horrible realization.

"My test!" He shrieked. "I didn't finish my test! I didn't even write my name." He turned to Bruce with wide, pleading eyes, only for the man to scratch the back of his neck. "I'm sorry Timmy. I tried to talk to your teacher and get you a makeup test, given the circumstances, but he wouldn't budge."

Tim sat there, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. He had gotten an F. He had never gotten an F in his life. He had studied all week, breaking the rules and destroying any semblance of a sleep pattern, and he hadn't still failed. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come out. He sat there just shaking.

"Mrs. Kay told me about all your coffee runs." Bruce said softly. "Going behind my back, Tim? That's not like you." "I just wanted to do well on my test." Tim finally managed. "I just wanted to make you proud."

Bruce sighed again as he gently helped his son lie back down. "Tim, as long as you try your best, I will always be proud of you. You know that, don't you?" Tim nodded. "Good. Now get some rest."

"Bruce?" Tim whispered as his father made his way to the door. "Am I in trouble for lying to you?" The man thought for a moment. "Are you ever going to pull a stunt like that again?"

"No Daddy." Tim promised, and Bruce gave him a rueful smile. "Then I think the knowledge of a failing grade and the hangover headache you're going to have will be punishment enough." Bruce turned off the light as he left, and Tim tried to make himself comfortable.

And as he closed his eyes, he made himself a promise. He would never touch another cup of coffee for as long as he lived.