A/N: This is a crosspost from AO3, where I post under the same name. This is a gift fic for Acesphrases as part of the Holy Server Batman! server review event, who asked for Tim and Damian bonding. I had a lot of fun with this, and I hope it fits the bill!

Title from Kids by Orville Peck.


Tim let out another gusty sigh, dragging his feet at a slightly faster pace as Damian disappeared down another aisle. He'd only agreed to take Damian to the pet store because the kid had threatened to drive himself there, and Tim wasn't willing to risk Alfred's ire if he let Damian take the Lotus for a spin, so a trip in the car it was.

Tim slid his phone out of his pocket and poked away at the screen, only grumbling to himself a little bit. He didn't mind watching over Damian when no one else was around, really, especially since the kid usually kept to himself. He didn't even mind driving him places; Damian was very direct, and preferred to get what he needed and get out. Tim respected that. But it didn't stop him from being annoyed that he'd been pulled away from researching his latest case.

Tim ambled along behind his brother, keeping Damian's blurry head in his peripheral vision, and took the time to catch up on the Young Justice group chat. Bart's influx of daily chipmunk memes were definitely more interesting than—Tim squinted at the product to his right—coconut substrate, for sure.

Up ahead, Damian seemed to have caught the attention of an employee, so Tim leant against the aisle divider and settled in, sure Damian would let him know once he'd got what he wanted.

Five minutes passed, then ten minutes passed, and still Damian wasn't done. It shouldn't take him this long to arrange a delivery of turkey feed, surely? Tim looked up from his screen, and saw Damian was no longer at the end of the aisle.

Fighting back the instinctual flare of annoyance, Tim rocked up on his toes to squint over the shelving units, but Damian was nowhere in sight. Cursing his height, he jogged to the end of the aisle and started to circle the store, glancing down each aisle but finding no sign of Damian.

Frustration building, Tim started to mentally compose a speech on not wandering off in a pet superstore, seriously Damian, when he heard Damian's irate tone carry from a few aisles down.

"I assure you, I know what I am doing!"

And great, now he was antagonizing the workers.

An apology prepared on the tip of his tongue, Tim jogged over to the aisle, his annoyance tempered with relief once he spotted Damian's dark head.

He seemed to have been arguing with the employee for a while, if the furious expression on the man's face was anything to go by.

"I'm telling you, we don't have any," the man said, crossing his arms.

Damian huffed. "I am aware you don't have any presently in stock, hence why I am requesting you order some in, which shouldn't be too difficult if you're any good at your job!" he snapped.

The employee loomed, his expression darkening. "Look, kid, either you get with the program or get out. Capiche?" he growled, his tone sending unease trickling down Tim's spine.

Damian visibly bristled, but remained quiet, and Tim was all-too-suddenly reminded that Damian really was just a kid, and though he could easily defend himself on the streets as Robin, he didn't have that same opportunity as a civilian. Tim also really did not like this employee; anyone this dismissive with a kid, even one as prickly as Damian, wasn't getting into his good books anytime soon.

Tim took the lull in conversation as his chance to step in, and hopefully stop any future murder from taking place.

"What's going on here?" interrupted Tim, projecting authority as best he could.

Damian spun at Tim's voice. "Dr— Timothy!" he called, and something that almost looked like relief flickered across his face. He hurried to situate himself by Tim's side.

Yeah, Tim was definitely concerned.

"You know this kid?" asked the man, peering down at Tim with mistrust painted all over his face.

"He's my brother," said Tim, keeping his voice bland and polite. "What seems to be the issue here?"

The man snorted. "Your little brother here is determined to waste company time," he sneered.

Tim frowned at that, and looked to Damian. "Did you order the turkey feed?" he asked, ignoring the accusation entirely.

Damian's grimace morphed into a look of pure frustration.

"I am trying, but this man—" said Damian, gesturing angrily, "Insists they do not have any, despite it being listed as available at other stores on the website," he growled.

The employee managed to loom even larger, his expression turning near-murderous, and the change in posture immediately sent adrenaline rushing through Tim's veins. This wasn't something he felt often in the daylight, but the man's reaction to a kid getting angry had Tim's fingers twitching for a bo staff that wasn't there.

"Like I said, kid," said the man, his tone poisonous, "We only order stock across for legitimate customers, not for a goddamned prank. Either you kids come back with your parents, or I'll call the cops and let them know you're obstructing a business," he threatened.

"Obstructing—" Damian bit out, and Tim rested a hopefully-reassuring hand on his shoulder.

A quick glance showed Damian was still knife-free, but—

Were… those tears, in Damian's eyes?

Tim's concern mutated into fierce, boiling anger, and he tugged the boy behind him before his rage could burst out like a geyser. The only thing keeping Tim's anger contained was the fact they had yet to order the turkey feed for Jerry, and they needed the employee breathing to do so.

"Ok, I think we've all got off on the wrong foot," Tim said as calmly as he could despite the fury rushing through his veins. "It says on your website you can ship to other stores, and we've got a turkey at home that's running low on feed. Money isn't an issue, and we're happy to pay before it gets shipped, if that's a problem. We'd really appreciate you ordering us that feed," he finished, giving the man a blinding grin.

The man began to deflate at the reminder they were paying customers. He grumbled under his breath, but he obediently turned and headed towards the registers, pecking at the keyboard for a moment before he informed them of the date the fifty pounds of turkey grits would likely make it into the store.

Tim paid with Bruce's black card, and ushered Damian out of the store and away from the employee the second the payment processed.


"Jeez," said Tim, once they were back in the safety of the car, "That was a freaking nightmare."

He'd almost collapsed into his seat with relief the encounter hadn't ended in a blood bath, adrenaline still making him jittery.

Damian hunched in the passenger seat, and pulled his hood over his head, saying nothing.

Tim hesitated. "Do you, uh… want to talk about it?" he asked, and winced even as he said it.

"No," snapped Damian, and hugged his knees to his chest, burrowing deeper into his hood. Tim was still able to hear his muffled sniffs through the fabric.

Aw, hell. Tim was awkward at the best of times, and dealing with crying kids had never been one of his fortes, especially when it was his little brother who didn't even seem to like him half the time.

Tim tentatively placed his hand on Damian's back, and when he wasn't thrown off, started to rub circles into the kid's back, like his older siblings had done for him countless times before.

"I'm sorry that guy was so horrible to you," Tim said quietly. "Sometimes people are dicks for no reason. You could submit a complaint when we get home, if you want."

"That won't be necessary," said Damian, haughty tone still recognizable through his cracking voice, "I am simply… unused, to people dismissing me in that way. I'll recover shortly."

Tim continued to circle his hand. "S'okay, take your time," he said, smiling sadly at the small nod Damian gave in return.

The sniffles petered off a few minutes later, and Damian emerged from his hoodie cocoon with a red nose and puffy eyes.

"Thanks," he muttered, rubbing at his cheeks with his sweater paws.

Tim shrugged. "Hey, it's nothing. That's what family's for, after all," he said, throwing Damian a quick grin, and was rewarded with a tiny smile from the boy in return.

Tim was about to start up the car and head home, when he spotted a familiar sign in the distance and perked up in his seat.

"Hey, squirt, I know it's only an hour before dinner, but how about we blow this joint and go get some celebratory ice cream? My treat," Tim said, giving Damian a conspiratorial look.

Damian smirked. "I won't tell Pennyworth if you don't."

Tim snickered, and started the car. "Deal."