Hey future Me here, just letting you know that this fic was originally on AO3 but I'm crossposting it here and uhhh *checks notes* Wattpad. Warning, this fic hasn't been updated since june 2 2020. I haven't started on chapter 7 but this is definitely something I would like to go back to. Until then I'm crossposting it since I realized I hadn't done that yet. Enjoy past me's notes.
So… Hi! I'm quick letting you know that this story will probably won't do well with some readers due to Tim's parents. Believe me when I say that you and I both want Bruce to adopt Tim ASAP!
Also I'd like to thank SimonSaying for helping me out and letting me know any grammar or spelling mistakes I had!
Anyway, enough rambling. Catch ya at the end of the chapter for more info!
"Mother?" Timothy asks as he fixes his bed.
Silk curtains were pulled back by tidy little bows, silver mirror was polished to shine, clothes made by skillful hands were folded away, and all surfaces were dusted as well as polished, much like the mirror. Not a single thing was out of place. Not even the beautiful paintings were askew. The room felt empty however. Despite the fact that there was a wall filled to the brim with books, there were no toys. No nicknacks. However Timothy was okay with this. He was okay with a lot of things.
A soft hum answers him.
"Where's father?"
A woman's cold voice says, "he's currently at the office. Apparently they needed Jack in person. That's why we came home early, remember?"
Timothy did not remember his parents telling him that fact. "I'm sorry, mother." He still says anyways.
His mother hums once more.
Cloth shifting. Body turning. Loud clacks filled Timothy's room and head. Strong perfume becomes stronger. The footsteps stopped. He can hear her breathe.
"Even if you did forget Timothy," his mother says, voice both simultaneously loud and quiet, "I'm sure you haven't forgotten the promise."
"No mother," he admitted. He had not, in fact, forgotten. How could he? It was the most exciting thing to have ever happened to him.
He heard it before it could even start. The slight groan of the house and then the telltale click of a lock unlocking. Gentle tremors rocked throughout the house as his room split in two. The side Timothy was on stayed in place while the other side slowly swung away from him.
And there, standing in front of the split house, was a gorgeous giant woman with voluminous black hair and the most frigid blue eyes that anyone would have ever seen. Her lips were painted a blood red and her skin was as pale as porcelain. A most expensive necklace made of fine red jewels and diamonds adorned her neck. Similar earrings pierced her ears. Her dress was elegant, but simple for where she planned to go. It had matched her jewels, but not in a way that looked gaudy or horrid. She looked, if one thought about it, as if Snow White had become the evil stepmother.
(Of course, Timothy didn't think this. It would be rude of him to think so. His very last nanny, on the other hand, might have had such a thought.)
Heart pounding, Timothy stood perfectly still as his mother's hand reached for him. Her other one held her purse.
Ever so gently, red manicured nails tilted his oh so petite face up further to his mother's face. "Do be a doll," Janet Drake whispers, "and settle down for mother."
And just like that, Timothy Drake lets himself flop down fully into his mother's hand. Blue eyes staring forward. A pleasant smile plastered to his face. He could hear his mother hum in satisfaction.
"Rag doll is what we're doing today, hm?" She said as she moved Timothy closer to her purse. "Well, make sure you don't flop away. You just might break."
He doesn't blink. Instead he takes slow, shallow breaths. He makes sure his heartbeat goes at a calm rate. He hopes it's enough.
"We must work on that heartbeat, Timothy. I can feel it through your clothing," his mother scolds him.
Fear strikes through him. Perhaps it wasn't enough…?
"However," she continues, "a deal is a deal. We just have to make sure no one holds you."
Relief floods through him. Timothy's smile becomes a tad more genuine. As he gets put into a special pocket on the side of his mother's purse, Timothy thinks that this may possibly be the best day ever.
After all, it's the first time he gets to go outside.
Timothy was a special boy you see. A very special boy.
So special, that his parents hid him away from the world. They couldn't, however, keep the world hidden away from him.
Even as he was tucked into his mother's purse, he could hear the world around him. Even as they got into a car. Even if everything became so muffled, Timothy could still hear it. And even though the scent of his mother's perfume was overpowering, he could still catch the undertones of fresh air, newly cut grass, and… perhaps brand new car.
Timothy knew the first two smells for when the maids would open the windows during cleaning. Brand new car, however… he wasn't quite sure how he knew that it's what it smelt like.
This however… it smelt like his father's leather chair that he wasn't allowed to sit in. Mother and father had told him that his hands and shoes could dirty it should he do so. But if his father was sitting in it, and was in a good mood, he would let Timothy sit on his lap or even on his shoulder. A small hint of gasoline mixed with what smelt like the brand new carpet they had gotten after a rude guest at their last party had gotten their sick all over. But it was the leather and the carpet scent that prevailed over the gasoline. He thinks there was something else, but he wasn't quite sure.
But all of this surely means this was a new car. It might've been because his parents hardly used their cars. Or they would only use the newest and the best cars that just came out. Be it just introduced or straight out of the factory; it didn't matter. That's not to say they didn't have any older, classic, cars either. As long as it looked and acted just the same as it did when it was made, it was fine. Or at least, this is what he has been told.
A rumbling broke Timothy out of his spiraling thoughts. He mentally scolded himself for letting his mind get so carried away. It was unbefitting for him to do such a thing.
Turning his attention back outwards, he noticed how the purse vibrated. How the contents within slightly rattled and jingaled. Of soft clanks. How he would press closer and further from the walls of the pocket. Ever so slightly would the purse shift from side to side. And how… how they would slow down or speed up. How they would stop.
They were driving!
And he began to hear it. More cars! Beeping and rumbling of others passing by.
Timothy couldn't help it. He let his heart pound. He let it pound fast.
They were outside! They were in Gotham! Timothy was in Gotham!
If Timothy were a different child, he would shed tears of pure joy.
Instead he let his smile grow a tad wider.
He let himself enjoy the wonders of the car ride. But it ended all too soon for him. For what felt like the next thing he knew, the car stopped. It sounded so silent, with the purring of the car gone. And yet it sounded much louder. He heard his mother unbuckle. He felt how she picked her purse back up, and he felt how she got out of the car.
With the barrier known as a car gone, everything became more clear. Not as clear as it would've been had he been out of his mother's purse, but was clearer nonetheless.
He could hear many different voices. The clacking of different types of shoes hitting the pavement. The occasional laughter. By older people. By younger people. By children with their family or friends. The honking of multiple cars were much more prominent as well as the sounds of motorcycles revving up to go faster. It sounded… it all sounded just like in the movies and shows he was allowed to watch and listen to.
The smell was less than desirable. It was a stench of something… acidic. It was all the things he couldn't quite place. He imagines that this is what cheap cigarettes smelt like. Perhaps, due to the fact that his mother's perfume seems to be dispersing, he could smell all these things. He thinks he smells something like food as well.
It was all so much. It was all so glorious.
But much like the car ride, it ended all too soon.
A different type of sounds were heard, as the purse bobbed up and down since his mother walked with a purpose. It was the sound of a door opening and closing, of soft small talk. Of phones ringing. Paper shuffling.
He could only smell his mother's perfume.
And then they stopped moving.
"What floor is my husband on." The muffled voice of his mother demanded.
"Mrs. Drake!" Another muffled voice spoke, sounding startled. It sounded young. Possibly male, but Timothy wasn't too sure. "Mr. Drake should be back shortly as he had to head out for a moment. My apologies, Mrs. Drake."
Timothy wondered what his father was doing.
He couldn't wonder long, as that next moment the world exploded into chaos.
A deep rumble shook Timothy to the core. He never felt anything so powerful in his life. Nor had he ever heard anything so loud as the screams of people outside of the purse.
He didn't hear his mother scream.
He felt, however, a great jolt. There was the oddest sensation for what felt like an eternity. It was as if his stomach had moved upward. It had felt… like… like it was being tickled? And his whole body. It was almost as if he was floating.
And then with a great thud, everything stopped.
For this whole thing Timothy stayed… perfectly… still… but his heart. Oh his heart nearly froze. His voice nearly ripped itself out of his throat. He very nearly flinched.
He tried to process what happened. Timothy thinks that perhaps his mother had dropped her purse. Had dropped him. But that couldn't be. The mere idea was inconceivable. Yet here he was, with said idea. It was true that Janet Drake had an iron grip on her things. However with such a surprise such as… whatever had happened, Timothy could understand how she was unable to keep a hold on him.
He couldn't help but think, as he heard the noises of panic, that everything was happening all so fast. His car ride, his arrival to his father's work place. This.
It was supposed to be his day. His day to see the world around him.
If Timothy were a different child, he would shed tears of pure sorrow.
But it was incredibly important for him to stay perfectly still. To hardly heave a single breath. To keep his heartbeat so slow, it would be almost as if it was never there. In order to survive, Timothy must stay a perfect little doll.
A perfect little doll, that begins to slowly slide, to his horror. It dawns on him that the purse had landed just so that Tim was… was sliding out of his pocket.
Timothy never leaves his pocket without his mother's permission.
'Mother and Father would be furious with me,' he thinks as his foot hit free air. 'Simply furious. But they would be even more so if I make a move to stay within.'
Timothy is nothing but a doll that is falling out of a purse pocket. Timothy hates it. Timothy is resigned to his fate.
Timothy slides even more awkwardly downward and out until… his whole body manages to pop out.
Like the rag doll that he is, he tumbled down the expensive purse, world around him whirling around. It wasn't long until his body rolls to a stop on the cold, hard tile flooring. His limbs were awkwardly splayed around him. His head was tilted to the side. He kept on looking in one direction. He kept on smiling.
He… he was outside of his pocket. He was outside. He was in another building, this is true, but he was really, truly, outside.
Mother and Father had kept their word, and everything was ruined. From his day to the room around him. He could see it, thick vines were sprouting from the floors, walls, and the ceiling itself. He wouldn't be surprised if it was in other parts of the building. What surprised him the most, however, was the fact that the vines kept on growing. Flowers of different sizes and colors popped open and leaves flourished all around him.
A memory faded into his mind. His last nanny had showed him a movie from before he was born. About a boy stuck within a game for years. At some point, a whole rainforest had grown inside the mansion that they were in. Vines like these had crawled from various places and deadly flowers bloomed.
But that was just a movie. This was real life.
And yet here he was. Watching plants grow at an astonishing rate.
It was then that he realized that it was completely silent. The only thing he could hear was the creaking of the building and the slithering of growing flora. He could possibly be alone.
Does this mean… does this mean he could move? Find a way to escape? To find his mother? No. Surely not. If he did then he would be in even more trouble than he currently was going to be in.
Everything spiraled out of control so fast. He didn't know what to do.
At least the air began to smell sweet. Taking a small breath in, he could tell that the flowers that were now fully opened were giving off a scent. It wasn't like any of his mother's perfumes. They weren't strong either, but it was noticeable to him. It was soft, if a scent could be soft, and it was sweet. Not quite like honey or sugar. Timothy wasn't quite sure how to explain it.
Whatever it was, it seemed to have calmed him down. But then… Timothy began to feel odd. And without his permission, his heart began to pound harder than his mother would allow. Everything started to feel hot. And his clothes… felt far too tight.
Just like lighting striking outside his window, pain struck him suddenly and without any warning.
Timothy screamed. It hurt far more than anything the children did to him, thinking that he was a common play thing. If his mother saw him right now, she would be deeply displeased. But he couldn't help it. He was just hurting and he didn't know why.
He screamed and he screamed and he screamed. He could've sworn he heard something pop. But it was hard to hear when his voice was echoing even in his head.
And then it all stopped.
Sobs escaped from his throat as he belatedly realized that not only he had shut his eyes, but tears were leaking out of them. He also realized that he had curled up into a ball… and that he felt incredibly cold.
Ever so slowly did he open his eyes.
There was even more flowers in bloom, and the vines have crept ever so closer.
Except… except everything was smaller? Breath catching, he let his eyes wander.
Smaller flowers, smaller vines, smaller leaves… smaller tiles, smaller windows, smaller doors and chairs. Finally he let his eyes wander down to his body, trying to figure out what was making him so cold…
Only, to his complete and utter embarrassment, he was naked!
"Wha-" Timothy stopped himself short before he could finish that word.
How in the world did this happen? And what exactly happened?
He… he had to do something. Timothy already broken so many rules that he might as well break them all.
Slowly, and feeling rather weak, Timothy uncurled himself… and stood up. His legs wobbled, his body swayed. He had nearly fallen over just doing this act. He felt heavy. And the room around him was much smaller now that he was standing up.
Looking down, however, he could see… scraps of his clothing. His shoes.
Mother and Father would be very displeased by this.
And then there was mother's purse… mother's purse which was still intact. Timothy had to give it back to his mother.
So he picked it up. It was… heavier than expected. That shouldn't surprise him.
Holding his mother's purse, in a way that could cover him, Timothy looked for a way to escape. It wouldn't do well if someone were to find a naked boy holding a woman's purse. He thinks that it would get him in trouble with not only his mother, but perhaps the authorities. Perhaps they would think he stole it.
Timothy frowned at possibility. That wouldn't do. It wouldn't do at all.
This was shaping up to be the worst ninth birthday ever in the history of existence.
Hey… so that happened. Okay so let's get the low down. If y'all know me for my other DC stuff, I'm going to go back to Two for the Price of One soon…ish… listen, I just wanted some Tiny Tim content and this ended up being created and it's awful. And don't get me started on the characters! But of course I just might spoil something if I get too into it. But yeah, I couldn't get this idea out of my head. I'm still working on it, and got some chapters down already, but I don't know how long this would be. Expect time skips tho. I'm definitely doing that.