The Birds Who Smile, a Batman fanfic by Raberba girl
Chapter 11.2 (rough draft 2)
Sometime after ten o'clock, as Bruce was working on lessons with the children and Dick was napping on the couch, there was a sudden crashing sound and vehement cursing from the family's bedroom wing. Someone went rapidly pounding across the house. Just as Bruce and the children poked their heads out of the living room to look, Tim screamed from the kitchen, "WHY ISN'T THE FUCKING COFFEE MAKER ON?!"
Bruce went in to find his son, dressed very sloppily in a business suit, slamming a tea kettle into the sink. "WHY DIDN'T ANYONE WAKE ME?! I'M LATE FOR FUCKING WORK! I MISSED BOTH MY MORNING MEETINGS!"
"Tim, calm down."
Tim rounded on him like an enraged boar. "DON'T TELL ME TO FUCKING CALM DOWN! I'VE BEEN WORKING MY ASS OFF FOR YOUR COMPANY AND YOUR CITY AND YOU HAVE THE FUCKING GALL TO TELL ME TO 'CALM DOWN' LIKE IT'S NOT A FUCKING BIG DEAL IF WE SLIP BACK INTO THE HOLE WE JUST CLIMBED OUT OF-!"
"Tim. Tim." Bruce was trying to approach, holding out his hands in a placating way. Tim was pacing as he shouted.
"-SO SMUG WHEN YOU ALL GANG UP ON ME BUT IT'S MY BODY AND MY TIME AND IF I CHOOSE TO WRECK MYSELF SO YOU CAN DOTE ON THOSE DAMN BIRDS 24/7 THEN THAT'S MY FUCKING BUSINESS-"
"Tim, I'm going to work. I'm going to work. You can stay home today. I'm going to work."
"-BET YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HALF OF WHAT I-" Tim stumbled. "What?"
"I am going to work today, the rest of the day. Stay home and rest. I've got the company, Dick's got the children, Damian and Duke can take care of any research you need done before patrol tonight. We've got things covered today. You can rest for a few hours; longer than that, if you want."
There was a long pause. Then Tim burst into tears and buried his face in his hands, and leaned heavily into Bruce's cautious embrace.
For two seconds, he just wept in relief, but then his voice rose in a distressed wail. "You can't, you've been out of the loop for so long-"
"You can fill me in by phone and email. Lucius can fill me in. It will be fine," Bruce murmured, stroking his hair. Alfred, drawn by the shouting, was busying himself in the background, shutting off the faucet and pouring excess water out of the tea kettle before setting it on to boil.
"I can't even take a break when I try, I'm just going to start typing again ten minutes after I lie down-"
"That's all right. Do whatever you need to do, as long as you understand that we've got it covered today. There is no rush and no pressure. Rest."
Tim sniffled and tried to stop crying, but it took a while. Bruce looked up at one point to see Dick filming from the entryway, as the children watched with great interest.
Bruce frowned and signed behind Tim's back, "Don't record him."
"But you both are being precious!" Dick mouthed back.
Tim sensed the movements of Bruce's hands. He looked over his shoulder, then sprang out of his father's arms. "What are you doing?!"
"It was cute!"
Tim charged at him; Dick fled and the children scattered. The wide-eyed Robins hovered uncertainly in the hall for a moment, then Jack started to trot after his father when Bruce went to get dressed for work. Jack changed direction when he realized that the other birds had chosen to stalk their older brothers instead. They followed at a cautious distance until the chase ended outside, where Dick and Tim wrestled on the lawn.
Both of them abruptly stopped when they sensed that something was wrong. "No!" Dick cried, diving to shield his brother. "No! Stop! We're not fighting!"
Jack came to a halt at once; John staggered to a stop a second later. Peter snarled, his fingers arched stiffly like claws. "Fight," he screeched in bird language, "fight, blood, fight, fight...!"
"crow" John's eyes were half-blank, his mouth stretched in a Joker smile. "crow crow"
Jack stared at the young men, looking like he didn't realize he was keening.
"No no no no no, come back to me, baby birds, come back, it's okay, we were just playing, we love each other, everything's fine! Please don't bite Tim."
"They're gonna bite me?!"
"No, no, they're not, because we're all brothers and we loooove each other." Dick cuddled and nuzzled Tim, who didn't dare push him off.
"Safe," Jack cooed uncertainly. "Safe, safe, flockmates safe. Quiet, calm..."
John finally looked human again, though devoid of emotion. Peter had stopped screeching and was glaring at his big brothers with clear eyes. "crow?"
"Nope, no crow. Come here, Baby Jay."
Dick held out his arms. Peter warily slunk closer, and Tim scrambled away. "Okay, I'm out of here. You can deal with your Joker birds, and I'll go deal with Mr. Thinks-He-Can-Just-Swap-Into-My-Place-Like-It's-Musical-Chairs."
Tim went to change out of his grass-stained suit and then collapsed on a couch in the living room with a tablet, two laptops, his phone and briefcase, and a whole bag full of external storage devices. First, he sent a bunch of emails to Bruce, Lucius, and his secretary, barely noticing that Jack had followed him in and that Alfred was setting a tray full of tea and snacks (but no coffee) on the nearest end table. "Thanks, Alfred," Tim called, only to realize that he'd taken so long to tear himself out of the work haze that Alfred was long gone.
Jack wasn't. The little boy was perched on the couch right next to him, watching intently. It made Tim uncomfortable. He wanted to push the boy to the other end of the couch, but also wanted to avoid getting bitten. Before he could decide, Bruce called and then he forgot. "No, no, we closed on that one yesterday, remember? I sent you the files for the new one eight minutes ago; keep up, Bruce."
Jack was saying something, but Tim couldn't spare the attention to decipher those laborious, halting words. Then something crusty and fluffy and buttery was getting pushed into his mouth. "Mmph! I'm on the phone, Jack, don't feed me," Tim tried to say through a mouthful of bread roll. Jack ignored him, so Tim quickly adjusted to talking or typing in between taking small bites of whatever Jack occasionally pushed at his lips.
When the immediately urgent WE business was finished, Tim exhaled deeply and sat back. He was tempted to just fall asleep right then and there, but there was still more to do.
"Mme, Ttimm, hhhop'ssscoh, sscocchh?"
"Go play with Dick, I'm busy," Tim said wearily. He shifted until he was fully lying down, leaning back against one of the couch arms with his legs crooked, and dragged over the tablet so he could start on his patrol report from the night before.
"...Ssixx ttime ssixx iiss?"
"Jaaaaaaack," Tim groaned. "I am working. Dick is not working, Dick is playing, so go play with Dick."
"I plllay wih, wwittt Ttt'mm."
There was a pause as Tim tapped away, wishing he had the energy to sit up again and connect a keyboard so this would go faster. Then he exhaled forcefully and painfully when Jack jabbed him in the stomach.
"LOOK AT ME! Talking is hard!" Jack sign-yelled at him.
Tim stared. "Jack... I am not the fun brother. I don't like you, I don't want to play with you, and I'm too busy to play even if I did."
Jack rested his chin on Tim's knees and gazed at him with puppy eyes.
"Oh God." Tim dropped his head back on the couch pillows and shut his eyes. "DIIIIICK!" he yelled. "DICK! COME GET YOUR BIRD!"
A small parade of people came romping into the living room. "You called, Timmy~?" Dick asked, flanked by a curious-looking Bird 1 and Bird 2.
"I'm working! Take Jack somewhere else to play!"
"Jackie~ Do you want to play with me or with Tim?"
"He play with me you brothers."
"Awww, that's sweet, Jackie! But we're also trying to get Tim to sleep, so maybe we should leave him on the couch."
Tim glared.
Jack pouted. "He couch, I couch," he decided, and plopped down to lean against Tim's legs. Dick laughed at the sight they made.
"Shut up," Tim grumbled. "At least bring some toys to distract him with."
Dick did so. Jack complained and asked for lessons instead, so Dick fetched those, too, then left again with the older children. "I work, you work," Jack said happily, and propped his clipboard against Tim's knees.
Tim sighed deeply, but at least the kid was being quiet and not pestering him anymore. ...Much. "Tttimmy. Tt'mmy! Ggoo'd jjobb? Tt'mmy, ggooD jjob?"
"Yes, yes, you did a fantastic job. You're amazing. Keep it up, Jackie," Tim said in a monotone.
"I ggood jjob, Ttiimmy ggood jjob."
After Tim had finished his report, messaged Damian and Duke with what he needed them to do before patrol, and set up an alert so that he'd have time to do it himself if/when they failed to get it done in time or correctly, he finally set aside the tablet, sighed, then just lay there mindlessly for a few minutes. It felt really, really weird to have nothing urgent to work on for the next few hours.
"Ttiimmy?"
"...You ever seen Star Trek, kid?" Tim murmured.
"Ssaw Tte'kk?"
"Bring me that remote and I'll show you." Tim turned on the TV and set up a queue of his default comfort show. The sound of the theme song made him truly relax for the first time since...he couldn't remember.
He woke up from a doze to find Jack perched on the arm of the couch, busily styling his hair with a set of tiny clips Stephanie had given to him. "What are you doing to meeee," Tim mumbled, too tired to stop him.
"Ttiimmy prrre'tty."
"Uuuuggghhh..." Then he fell asleep again, this time for four hours straight. He didn't stir when Jack finished with his hair, took photos and sat admiring his handiwork for a while, then lay down to cuddle with him, or when Dick came by later and gleefully snapped pictures of the two of them napping together.
When Tim finally woke up, he was stiff and alone (except for the cat, who'd taken Jack's place), Star Trek was still playing (though with the volume significantly lowered from what he'd originally set it on), and the morning's tray had been replaced with a new one containing fresh snacks and a bottle of water, both of which Tim sorely needed. He also really needed to pee.
Though he'd felt like crap upon initially awakening, once he started moving around and had some food and water in him, he felt better. Almost good.
He checked his phone and spent about half an hour responding to the most urgent messages, then started wandering around the house in search of the rest of the family, carrying Alfred and absently scratching between the animal's ears.
It turned out they were in the Batcave. Damian and Duke were arguing mildly by the computer, working on the assignments Tim had left for them and actually doing a decent job. Dick was encouraging the children through an obstacle course. Alfred jumped out of Tim's arms and trotted over to be coddled by Damian, while the dog rose from his bored sprawl at Damian's feet and came to greet the newcomer. Tim crouched down to pet Titus as he watched the kids' progress.
"Almost, almost, almost!" Dick called, clapping rhythmically. "Come ooon, Peter, you can do it! Awesome job, Johnny! Just two more, Jackie, two more; ooohhh, ONE MORE, Jackie, you got this! YAAAAAAAYYYYY, high fives! High fives for all~! Yes!"
Jack came trotting over before he'd even finished eating his treat. "Ttimmy prrre'tty!"
Tim suddenly realized that the little clips were still in his hair. "Agh, crap." He started pulling them out, hoping Damian hadn't seen. Jack gave him a hug and a kiss, then got distracted petting Titus.
Dick wandered over with the other two Robins trailing in his wake. "Had a nice nap?"
"...I did, actually," Tim admitted grudgingly. "Please don't let Damian see the photos."
"What photos?" Dick asked innocently.
Tim gave him a Look.
"What if I give you some blackmail pics of him in exchange?"
"That might work."
Dick looked at them for a minute, then cooed, "Big You and Little You are so dang cute together."
Tim held out his hands. "John, come here."
"Hug?"
"Yeah."
John brightened and bounded into Tim's arms. "Mmm, you're so much cuter than Big You," Tim murmured into his hair.
"Hey!"
Peter came up behind Tim and put his arms around the young man's neck. Tim patted him. "Don't bite me, guys."
"Will not bite," Jack assured him.
"Ggoo-duh nneckk," Peter teased, brushing his closed lips against Tim's jugular.
There was a clatter from the vicinity of the Batcomputer. "Drake! I mean, Timothy!" Damian shouted, "Come here and tell this amateur I don't need his help!"
"He's making a mistake!" Duke insisted.
"I knew more about hacking when I was six years old than you know about-!"
"I'm not talking about the hacking, I'm talking about the target!"
Tim sighed and got to his feet, shedding Robins. "I'm coming, I'm coming..."
TBC
A/N: I first drafted this chapter before I'd gotten the hang of writing Tim. I was really surprised at how he turned out here, but I did start getting to know him better from this point on.