"Achoo!" Tim sneezed with a tiny squeak.
The small, pitchy sound echoed was absorbed into the thick mass of tree branches in front him. He sniffled and rubbed hard at his nose. It burned a little, and his eyes watered more than he liked. He swiped at their corners as he stepped back from the nearly finished tree because he didn't want Jason and Dick to think that he's been crying.
Then he saw the way that they were looking at him from their positions around the Christmas tree. Jason like Tim didn't seriously just make a sound that resembled tiny kitten that got dirt up its nose. Dick like he thought Tim's sneeze was made of rainbows and unicorns.
Tim ducked his head and sniffled again.
"Sorry," he muttered. Before Jason could ask what that was or Dick begged for him to do it again, Tim raised his voice and said, "I'm done."
From his place halfway down the ladder, Alfred peered at him. He was balancing his own empty box of Christmas decorations, the contents of which were now neatly and tastefully strung around the top of the tree. Everything about it was precise, like Alfred instinctively knew where each ornament was meant to go for the best effect.
"Very good, Master Timothy," he said as he stepped off the ladder.
"Me, too," Dick added. He was standing on a shorter ladder so that he could decorate the middle section of the tree and dropped the empty cardboard box to the ground. For a moment, Tim thought that he was going to jump down after it. One well-place glare from Alfred stopped that, though.
"I think that's it for the decorations," Jason said as he dropped another empty box onto the pile they had started awhile go.
Damian glared up at him from among them before he spotted the new one Jason left. Picking it up, he placed it on top of the others he had stacked while they decorated and the crawled inside the little cardboard fort he made for himself. When he first started, Dick cooed about how cute it was for an hour. Even now Tim could hear the click of his phone's camera going off.
"The only thing left is this old thing," Jason said and lifted an shiny metal star from a box that looked older than Alfred.
Tilting his head back, Tim squinted up at the top of the tree. This was the main tree in the manor: the one that was put for the Wayne Christmas Gala that they were hosting this weekend. Every decoration on it was old and expensive, and not an inch of the giant tree was left bare. Except for the top. Even if Alfred stood on the top of ladder, he wouldn't be able to get up there.
"So how are we going to get it on?" Jason asked as he came to stand between Dick and Tim.
The three boys stared upwards: Dick with his hands on his hips, Jason with a frown, and Tim biting his lower lip in the thought.
"I could climb up there," Dick said. "It's not that high."
Jason snorted. "You're too big, and I can't because..." He held up his casted arm.
Climbing might work, but no matter what Dick said, fifteen was actually kind of high. Jason was right too that Dick was too big for something that tall that wasn't really weighted down.
"I could do it," Tim said. "I'm small en–choo!"
He sniffled again. Jason ignored his sneeze this time, but Tim noticed the way Dick was casually playing 'checking' his phone. Tim didn't doubt the next sneeze would be caught and posted within the next ten minutes, no matter how much he'd beg Dick not to.
So climbing a tree that he's probably allergic to maybe wasn't the best idea.
"Maybe we could just throw it up there," Jason said.
But neither was that.
"No one is climbing the tree," Alfred said. "Nor will we be catapulting a hundred year old antique to the top and hope for the best."
The sternness that this was said caused Dick and Jason to deflate a little, as if they both thought that their ideas were solid ones.
Taking the star from Jason, Alfred said, "We'll just have to wait putting it up until the decorators arrive later this week with a taller ladder."
"But it's almost done," Dick groaned.
The familiar burn started to build in Tim's nose again, and he knew that if he didn't leave now, the next sneeze would be all over Dick's social media page. Quietly and quickly, Tim slipped away from the other two, who were still trying to figure out the Christmas star problem. Damian noticed him long enough to glare a warning to not step on his box fort but went back to ignoring him as soon as Tim was a safe distance away.
A sneeze tore from Tim just as he stepped out into the hallway. Thankfully, though, it was covered by Jason asking, "Do you think B would let us borrow a grappling hook?"
His eyes were beginning to water again, so Tim rubbed them with his palm. He could almost hear his mother telling him that he shouldn't do that. That good boys wiped them with a tissue or handkerchief like the one that she sent him for Hanukkah this year. It was from Greece and made out of real silk. It was still in its box on one of the shelves in Tim's room, along with the other presents that they sent.
Tim had really hoped that his parents would come home for either Hanukkah or Christmas this year. He hadn't seen them since right after school started, back when Bruce and his parents agreed that Tim should stay with Bruce so he wouldn't be lonely and could show Dick and Jason the ropes of being a child in high society. That's what Bruce told Mother and Dad, anyway, and they went along with it. (Tim didn't really understand why, but thought Bruce must have used some kind of Batman trick on them.) They told him then that they probably wouldn't be back until the spring at the earliest, but Tim still hoped.
He really thought they might have after what happened with the Joker. They didn't, though. They called and made sure he was okay and told him that they gave Bruce the authority to transfer him to Gotham Prep (Gotham Academy's sister elementary school), but they weren't coming back. They were in the middle of dig and couldn't leave just yet, but they loved him and would see him soon. Mother promised to call him for Hanukkah to see if he liked what she sent him (she forgot), and she and Dad would be sure to video-chat with him on Christmas. Tim wasn't really counting on it, but he did hope.
He sniffled and scratched his nose before glancing inside the hall again. Jason was pointing at one section of the tree Dick had decorated. Tim couldn't hear what he was saying, but he figured that he must be making fun of it because Dick was waving his arms around like he always did when he was trying to defend something.
Alfred and the shorter ladder Dick had used were both gone. The taller one was still set up next to the tree. Tim started at the height difference between the two. It was close, but Alfred was just a little too short to reach the top on it. If he was just about three inches taller.
Like Bruce.
A grin crossed Tim's face before he headed towards Bruce's study. It was a little bit of trip from the main hall, especially for someone Tim's size, but he didn't mind. He loved being around Dick and Jason (he even didn't mind Damian all that much), but Tim was still getting use to so many people being in the same house as him. Sometimes, it was nice to be alone, even if it was only for a little while.
As he made his way across the manor, Tim pretended that he was on the streets of Gotham, following along side Batman. He'd jump from shadow to shadow, imagining that they were alleyways or rooftops where he and Batman were searching for villains. His steps were light and fast, and Tim would have been very proud of how little sound he was making if it weren't for the occasional sniffle.
Tim slowed his silent run to a stop once he reached Bruce's study and raised his hand to knock when a muffled voice from the other side stopped him.
"I'm just saying that you should think about it," a man said.
Tim didn't really recognize the voice, but there was something kind of familiar about it. Like something he'd heard on TV or maybe on the radio once.
Bruce replied to the suggestion with a flat, "No."
A long suffering sigh followed.
"It'd go a long way in stopping those rumors."
"I'm not having my home and city invaded just because Jordan has convinced some of the others that his idiotic idea about the boys might be true," Bruce said.
"Attending a Christmas party is hardly an invasion, Bruce," the man replied. "Look, I know you don't like this, but it's not going to stop. Especially after you let Dick go with you after the Joker. You've got admit that you can see where they're getting the wrong idea."
Tim could practically hear Bruce growling. "I did not clone myself to make a small army of child soldiers."
"I know that," the man said. "So do Zatanna and Barry. But –."
"Achoo!"
Tim slapped his hands over his mouth, but he knew it was already too late. Even with his baby mouse sneeze, there was no way that Bruce didn't hear him. Not this close.
Four quick steps later, the door the study opened. Bruce frowned down at him.
"Tim?"
He shifted uncomfortably. If there was one thing that his parents taught him, it was good manners. Listening in on someone else conversation was most definitely not good manners. An apology was right on his tongue when the man Bruce had been speaking too spoke up again.
"I didn't even hear him," he said with an impressed laugh. "You sure about the clone thing?"
Bruce turned a flat look on his guest, which allowed Tim a chance to see the man. Tim felt his eyes grow wide and his jaw drop a little when he saw who it was.
With a cheery smile, he stepped towards Bruce and Tim and held out his hand. "Hi. I'm – "
"Superman," Tim breathed and then slapped his hands over his mouth like he just said one of Jason's swear words.
He wasn't in his Superman outfit, so he was really Clark Kent. Tim knew this and knew that calling a superhero by his hero name when he was dressed like a civilian wasn't something he should do. (He knew that the same way that he knew what would happen to the chandelier.)
"Sorry," he muttered.
Mr. Clark blinked in a somewhat dazed way, like Tim had managed to catch him off-guard – which, really, Tim knew he had.
"It's okay," Mr. Clark said with a nervous laugh. "You just surprised me, is all. I've never been mistaken for –"
"He knows, Clark," Bruce said. "Don't lie to him."
Mr. Clark turned to Bruce, but he was watching Tim with a frown. Tim felt himself shrink a little while he tried to figure out what exactly that look was.
It wasn't like the one his mother would give him when he was rude. He'd seen that one enough to know it. He had seen this one before, though. It was just usually directed at Jason and not himself.
Tim thought he was going to ask him how he knew, but Bruce instead asked, "What do you need, Tim?"
It was then that Tim remembered exactly why he had come to Bruce's study in the first place. He smiled a little as a thought occurred to him.
It was true that Bruce was tall enough to get the star on top of the tree.
But Mr. Clark could fly.