Disclaimer: We don't own Batman
Full summary: In the turbulent months after the gassing, Batman comes across an orphan boy by the name of Alvin Draper. He's adopted into the Wayne family, and Bats takes his first step down the road to his future. DickxTim
Warnings: Slash, spoilers, language, and violence
Pairing(s): DickxTim
Fic type: AU, romance
Bizarre speaks: I just don't know what to say. I can't decide whether people are reading this going 'what the hell?' or if they're going 'hey, this is interesting.'
The Interface
by Bizarre Aubrey
Chapter IV: Redbirds
Thursday and Friday were the most peaceful days Bruce had ever experienced. It was absolutely blissful, until Friday afternoon, when he was about to leave Wayne Enterprises. He was this close to leaving, when Lucius presented him with an envelope.
"What's this?" Wayne wondered, holding the envelope up to the light.
"Tickets to Haly's Circus." Fox smiled. "It's the first big thing to come to Gotham since the gassing, it'll be good if you go. Cheer people up."
"Alvin has been bugging me about this thing," Bruce admitted, opening the envelop with a sigh. "Looks like he lucked out."
"Maybe you guys can bond…or something," Fox suggested weakly. He was pretty sure that was the last thing Bruce had in mind.
"Bonding." Bruce snorted, as though it were the funniest thing ever. "Bonding! That, sir. Is a good one." He actually applauded.
Fox made a noncommittal sound. "You gotta live with him, not me."
"And that is why I envy you," Bruce imparted him with that bit of enlightenment as he left the boardroom.
"Try to have some fun, Mr. Wayne," Fox called after his retreat. "It is a circus."
"I'll try," Bruce promised, waving vaguely over his shoulder.
When Bruce got home he found Alvin sitting on the front steps of the Manor. He really didn't know what to make of that because the teen should have been at school.
"Skipping classes is not a positive thing to be doing, kid," Bruce pointed out.
Alvin looked up, his eyes sharp. "I asked Alfred to come get me, you know I have my class work done. I brought my transcript and grades to plead my case one last time."
"So, why couldn't you wait the two hours until you were dismissed?" Bruce wondered. "It builds moral fiber."
"I was bored, and I wanted two more hours to try and convince you to just take me to the circus. Instead of me sneaking out tomorrow night," Alvin elaborated.
Bruce eyed him dryly, before handing over the envelope. "You should be kissing Luscious Fox's feet about now."
He watched Alvin break into the only sincere grin he'd ever seen. "You're coming too, aren't you?" the boy asked.
"Have to," Bruce admitted, sounding more begrudging than he really needed to. "Those tickets are on behalf of Wayne Enterprises. My appearance is supposed to be a city wide morale boost."
"Great," Alvin sighed, and Bruce caught a whiff of Tim in that voice. He didn't understand what that meant. All he knew was, this kid was no fucking Alvin. "That's just great."
Then Alvin got up and headed inside. Bruce wondered if he could really be as ungrateful as he had just sounded.
x x x x x
Bruce really didn't enjoy the circus. When one of the acrobats approached them, he still managed to pull up a semi-convincing smile for him, though.
"Hey!" Dick called with tumultuous excitement when he spotted Tim. Dick wormed his way through the crowd to hug him. He noticed the odd look that Bruce Wayne gave them. "Is this your dad?" the young circus performer asked in surprise.
"No," Tim shook his head.
He was stunned to hear Bruce say, "Yes." Dick stood between them, confused, and Alfred was thinking that there was no hope for their family. "Adoptive father." Bruce elaborated in recovery. "He's still getting used to it." He went so far as to ruffle Alvin's hair, in warning.
Tim tensed up under the gesture and gave Dick a pathetic look.
"Well, can I kidnap your adopted son until the show later?" Dick wondered with a feral grin.
Bruce looked between the two boys.
"If you don't come back when you're supposed to," he leaned down to hiss in Alvin's ear. "You won't see daylight for a year." He felt he had no choice but to be drastic, especially under the circumstances.
Alvin glared back at him, purely out of principal. Then Dick snatched up his hand and pulled him away.
They walked through the crowded fair while Dick talked, pointing out the crappy rides and telling the most amusing stories. The ones the customers aren't supposed to know like how the guy running it really lost his arm. Tim couldn't help but smile.
They were breaking off large pieces of a pretzel and waiting for the sun to go down before Tim finally managed to slip in something.
"Hey, Dick, is everything alright?"
"Yeah, why? Do I seem all brooding?" the acrobat wondered, smirking.
"Sort of," Tim answered in a quiet voice. "I would appreciate it if you would tell me."
Dick pressed another piece of pretzel into his mouth and turned his eyes back to the dusky sky. They had about half an hour before he needed to go the main tent to get ready for the show. He chewed in a guarded silence.
Tim felt himself seize up. He didn't know what to do. He hated that.
"Dick." He sounded so afraid that Dick turned to stare at him. Their eyes met and Dick felt ridiculous. He laughed it off.
The owner wouldn't put them in danger.
"It's fine, man. Teenage paranoia, I bet you've got it bad!" he teased and reached out to ruffle Tim's hair, just like Bruce had.
Tim ducked and watched him intently. "Dick, please. It's…"
"It'll be okay. Look, I need to go talk to the owner. I'll see you after the show. Okay?" Dick clapped Tim on the shoulder before he sprang into a flip. He paused to grin at Tim before swaggering away.
x x x x x
Alvin felt like he was about to die. He went to find Bruce. He had to tell him.
He went to search Bruce's seats first, but he found only Alfred.
"I believe Master Bruce went off somewhere with Lieutenant Gordon and Miss Dawes," the butler supplied, upon being questioned.
"Where did they go?" Tim asked. Tim didn't panic. But he was about to panic. He'd made an awful mistake waiting this long. He should have told Bruce right away. So, they could avoid this. But he'd kept deluding himself, telling himself that things were different. That if Oliver Queen wasn't Green Arrow, then Dick's parents didn't have to die. But they were going to and Tim had to stop it. It would be best if he could get Bruce's help, but he would do it himself, if he had to.
"I'm not sure," Alfred admitted, looking bewildered. "Out into the fair, I would assume."
They had fifteen minutes and Tim hurried to try and find a carnival worker. They were all busy though. None of them would stop to listen to him. He even tried to the ringmaster, but the man just waved him off. So, Tim took off at a run to find Bruce. He was caught in a sudden wave of people trying to get into the tent.
He'd fucked up. He'd fucked up. He saw Bruce coming back with Rachel and Gordon.
"Bruce," he called pathetically, trying to fight his way to the man's side and failing. He was jostled backwards into the tent. He very nearly lost his cool and shoved the people out of his way, but he eventually wormed through them. He grabbed Bruce's arm before the man could try to go up into the stands.
"Bruce," he panted. "The wires are going to snap. The Graysons are going to die…" The ringmaster stepped forward and announced the opening parade was about to begin. "Fuck, Bruce, please, don't make me explain! We just have to save the high wire act."
Bruce opened his mouth to reply, but the show started before he could. The lights swiveled dizzyingly, the animals began their parade, the tightrope, trapeze, and high wire artists began to swing…and a shocked gasp swept through the tent. Bruce couldn't even bring himself to look. He heard Alvin make a wounded sound as if he were the one who had just fallen to his death.
Tim looked around frantically until he spotted Dick standing at the bottom of the column. He was supposed to climb up when their act began. He was supposed to take his time climbing up the high pole, giving the audience an exaggerated sense of the height and the danger…Tim left Bruce standing there and ran forward to Dick. The audience shrieked around them…and Bruce watched as Alvin and Dick clutched at each other.
The tent was evacuated quickly and efficiently, until only six people remained. Even the circus folk had all cleared, well, save one. Dick and Tim were still huddled together, across the tent. Gordon couldn't fathom what had happened, and Rachel and Alfred had to physically drag Bruce back to his seat.
He couldn't cope. He was still fucking raw from his own parents demise. Vivid memories swept over him. He was chilled, the distinctive smell of a Gotham alleyway wafted past his nose.
"Master Bruce?" Alfred asked quietly, putting his old wrinkled hand on his forearm. Rachel sat on the other side, offering her presence as comfort.
Bruce opened and closed his mouth a few times before finally shaking his head. He was lost in his own thoughts. He could have saved them. The Graysons. Alvin had told him what would happen. What kind of hero was he if he couldn't even save two people? He sat in silence for an indeterminate amount of time. It felt like forever to him and probably did to Dick Grayson as well.
Bruce felt himself grow unaccountably angry when Gordon said there was nothing. No clues.
His eyes shot straight to Alvin.
He knew…
They would have to talk.
Bruce got up and made his way over to the two dark haired boys.
Alvin stared up at him…his face tear streaked and he had Dick Grayson hugged to him tightly.
"Alvin, you have to tell me…"
"Bruce, don't leave him alone!" Alvin begged even as his voice cracked with his desperation.
"What do you expect me to do with him?" Bruce's eyebrows knit. "Alvin, I'm not even ready to take care of you – I think we've both grasped that by now. What do you expect me to do with another teenage boy?"
"No, please, Bruce, I'll tell you everything, but only if you take care of him!" Alvin hissed darkly. Dick sat up slowly and looked at Bruce, he hadn't been listening to what they were saying. He was just now aware that Mr. Wayne was even there.
"I…" Bruce looked down at the two boys, and tried so hard to work up the courage to refuse. Then he saw himself, twenty years ago, clinging to Alfred as he sobbed out his sorrows, mourning the recent loss of his beloved parents. His heart melted and he swallowed, nodding without another word.
Dick had no idea what that meant, but Alvin let out a choked noise.
They could have stopped it.
He'd fucked up. He'd had the chance to make Dick's life better. He'd had a fucking chance to make his brother, his mentor, one of his best friend's life fucking better and he'd FUCKED UP!
Alfred came over and herded his family towards the car. Newest member and all.
x x x x x
For the most part, Bruce left Alvin and Dick alone. He didn't bring up Alvin's grounding, he didn't pester him to go to school, he didn't do anything even vaguely parental.
He withdrew. Despite Alfred's efforts, Bruce began taking his meals in his study, wanting to give the boys their space. A few days later, for the first time, Alvin sought him out.
"I'm not Alvin Draper nor Alvin Haywood," the kid confessed quietly. It was nearly midnight so Bruce figured Dick must have been asleep. Otherwise Alvin wouldn't have come here alone. "My name is Timothy Jeffery Drake."
Bruce looked up at him, blinking once with mute interest. He'd been doing Bruce duties, in preparation to go do his Batman duties. In all honesty, he had been shirking his patrols. The circus had thrown him, and part of him feared that he would fail again. But, he reasoned, if he wasn't there, it wasn't his fault.
"Honesty. How refreshing," he remarked.
"I couldn't tell you," Tim protested. "You're so young. You're so different."
"What are you talking about?" Bruce wondered, slumping in his chair.
"I know you Batman," Tim murmured. "I know you because I came from somewhere else. A different time-stream. Where this already happened. Dick is like my big brother there. I mean, that nine-year-old who lives next door, the Drake's kid. That's me."
Bruce looked very much like he'd have loved to be anywhere else, at that moment.
"And I'm not like this, where you're from?" Bruce said, latching on to the only thing that made sense.
"No. You're not. My Bruce would have known the second I snuck out. He would have had tracers on me the moment I set foot in here. He would have known both names were fake…He doesn't get angry and…" He isn't so fucking incompetent. Tim wanted to add, but he knew it wasn't true. This Bruce was just young.
Bruce stared at him for a few more seconds, before getting to his feet. Gotham would live one more night without the Batman. He enjoyed sleeping.
"Sorry to disappoint you." He tried, and failed, to sound nonchalant.
"You have to take in Dick," Tim whispered.
"Why's that?" Bruce paused by the door. In truth, he'd been planning on it, another one of those moments of commiseration striking out at him.
"I don't know what will happen if you don't, Bruce," Tim cried out and Bruce was stunned by the amount of emotion. This was a different person. Yet another different person, another mask for this kid. Was this finally the real one?
"I was planning on it," Bruce promised him with a great ammount of sincerity. "I know how he feels. I can't imagine how it would feel to be shipped off, after watching…that," he sounded more uncomfortable than ever, and he sped up his pace to leave.
Tim turned away as well and hurried back to where Dick was sleeping.
The other teen wasn't asleep any longer, he was standing at the window. He turned expectantly when Tim came back.
Sixteen-year-old Dick. He was too young, just like Bruce, but all Tim could do was go to them. He walked slowly around the bed and wrapped his arms around Dick.
"It hurts," the acrobat complained quietly, he still couldn't cope.
"I know," Tim soothed.
"I want to hurt who did it," Dick growled, pulling Tim in closer.
"There's a system." The words felt acidic in Tim's mouth. If Boomerang hadn't already been dead, Tim would have killed him. He knew right now he wanted to hurt Zucco, but he didn't know how much he could do, or if the mobster had even been responsible in this world. He was a stranger in this timeline, and he shouldn't meddle. He shouldn't, but he found his lips pressed to Dick's anyways.
"Help me, Tim?"
"I'm not from around here," Tim protested, trying to draw away, but he found he didn't want to.
"Does it matter?" Dick asked, kissing him again, their teeth clacked. "Help me."
"Yes."
To Be Continued...
