TW: Internalized homophobia and references to Jack and Janet's parenting.
"Bruce, you're an important part of my life, and your opinion means a lot to me. I…" Tim swallowed hard and looked away, blinking.
Bruce pretended to not see the fear in his eyes as he started again. Tim opening up was something that he and everyone else had been trying to encourage ever since their neighbor had become a permanent part of the manor.
"I… this…" He let out a shaky, frustrated huff and grabbed twin fistfuls of his own hair. "This shouldn't be this hard to say. It's two simple, stupid words. Why… why do I have to be like this?"
Bruce rose and approached Tim as he started pacing. "Tim, hey. Calm down. It's okay. Are you hurt? Sick?"
Tim stopped walking, which was a start, and shook his head. He was still looking firmly at the ground and tugging his hair, though, so whatever he was trying to say was stressing him out.
"Is something going on at work?"
"No. No, I wouldn't be this stupid if it was something work related."
"Tim, hey. You're not stupid."
"Then why is this so hard?" Tim sank down into a chair and pulled his knees up to his chest, burying his face in his arms.
"Did someone do something?" Bruce wasn't sure just how much of his Batman voice he had let slip, but it seemed appropriate for the moment. Tim didn't ask for help (which was admittedly its own problem), so the fact that he was in Bruce's office, quite literally wrestling with himself, was enough for Bruce to plot harm.
"No. Not… not really." Tim didn't look up. He had made himself as small as possible in the chair.
Just the night before, he had been taunting and fighting Bane, but now, suddenly, he looked like a kid waiting to get scolded by his principal.
"Dick… he says I should tell you. That… that it won't be a big deal. That you won't… y'know." He lifted his head slightly, just enough to rub the tears out of one eye. "H- hate me… or anything."
Bruce knelt down in front of the chair immediately. "Hate you? Tim, of course not. Just tell me what happened."
Tim sat, silent and still, for a while. Bruce didn't want to push him for fear that he'd just end up shutting down and deciding he'd be better off without saying anything, but he remained kneeling on the carpet in front of the chair.
Finally, though, Tim sighed. When he spoke, his voice was a bit more clear and even. "We… We get hurt sometimes. It's part of the job, I know that, but when we're hurt or out of it or under the effects of Fear Toxin, we sometimes say things we don't mean to say."
Okay. This was progress. Tim was talking. He could work with this. "Did you say something to someone?" He guessed.
"Yes- no." Tim straightened up a bit, just enough to make eye contact with Bruce. "My point is… I need this to be something I tell you when I'm completely coherent. I don't want this to be something you find out about at the worst possible time." He opened his mouth to continue, but quickly closed it again. He was getting visibly frustrated with himself and dropped his head back down onto his arms. "Dick said that you wouldn't care. That… that it's not a big deal. But I don't-,"
His voice broke, and Bruce resisted the urge to reach out and hug him. Put a hand on his shoulder. Offer some form of comfort. But he also knew Tim didn't see physical contact as something comforting.
"I already embarrassed two parents. I don't want to do the same to you. A- and you're a more well known public figure. People are going to talk and judge and, and-,"
"Tim. Timmy, breathe. You're okay. Just breathe." Bruce coaxed.
Tim was crying and rambling, but Bruce had put enough puzzle pieces together that he was fairly sure he knew what Tim was trying so hard to say. He also knew that it didn't matter if he guessed. Tim had to be the one to say it. This was something he had to do. He had to make the decision himself.
"I want you to listen to me, okay?" He kept his distance, kept his tone gentle. "You can talk to me. I won't be embarrassed. Your parents…" Bruce's lips hardened into a thin line.
Jack and Janet were gone more often than they were home, which meant that when Tim had taken the mantle of Robin it had been very easy to talk the pair into letting Tim stay at the manor when they were gone, but it was when they weren't gone that was the problem. He respected Tim's request that he stay out of the boy's family life, but it didn't take a detective to notice that Tim always seemed a bit… off? He didn't know what their parenting styles were like, but he'd had his suspicion.
"Tim, look. Your parents… they're not like me. They're not like most people. And if they told you that you embarrassed them, I just want you to know something."
Tim didn't move.
"Tim? Can you look at me?"
Slowly, he raised his eyes just enough to look at Bruce.
Relieved to be making progress, Bruce smiled. "If you're ever worried about me getting embarrassed, I want you to remember that I raised Dick and Jason."
Tim blinked in mild confusion, obviously trying to figure out if he was joking or not.
Bruce grinned. "I raised a boy who thought the Discowing was a good idea. He still has the suit, because he's convinced I'll change my mind someday."
Okay, that earned him a sound that may have been a small laugh. This was good. He was relaxing.
"A-and Jason?"
And now he was talking. Bruce could have hugged him.
"Timmy, you have no idea how much I've had to pay Oracle to scrub videos of Jason from the internet over the years. Both Jason and Red Hood."
Tim lifted his head and chuckled. He was still hugging his knees to his chest, but he was no longer hiding his face.
He then frowned and dropped his gaze to the chair he was seated on, moving a hand to touch the material. He focused on his fingers as they ran over the cloth, a move that Bruce had taught him. He was mentally picking out details of things in the room around them to ground himself.
"You… you promise you won't… I don't know. Be mad?"
"Tim, I promise. Do you want me to call Dick in here for moral support?"
Tim's hand stilled, frozen on the cushion beside him. Then he clenched it into a tight fist. "No. No, I have to do this. I decided to tell you, and I want to follow through."
"Okay, Tim. Do you think you're ready to tell me now? Or would-,"
"I'm bi!" Tim's eyes were squeezed tightly shut. He took a deep breath and then opened them when he noticed that Bruce hadn't said anything. "I- I'm sorry for interrupting. I just… if I didn't say it, I'm not sure I ever would."
Bruce held up his hands, calming him down. "Tim, hey. I'm proud of you, okay? Coming out is something you shouldn't be scared to do. I take it you've had a less than ideal experience in the past?"
Tim shrugged.
"Well, I just want to make sure you know that if you ever need anything, the manor is and will always be a safe place for you, okay?"
"Okay." Time seemed to have used all his courage for those two, simple words. He was avoiding eye contact again.
"And, if you ever don't feel comfortable coming to me to talk, you've always got Dick, Jason, and Alfred. Damien, too, but he probably won't have much advice."
No laugh this time.
"You… you're really not mad?"
The whisper was so soft Bruce almost missed it. But he didn't. And, not for the first time, he felt the growing urge to ask Tim for permission to file for custody. Obviously he'd learned things from his parents that… weren't great.
"Tim, no. No, I'd never be upset about something like this. And you're brave for telling me at all. Please don't think I'd ever be upset with you for opening up. Alright?"
Tim was shaking. Bruce wasn't entirely sure if that was a good thing or not, but then Tim blinked. His breathing changed, and Bruce was sure he was about to have a panic attack when slowly, hesitantly, Tim reached out an arm, silently asking for a hug.
Bruce didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around his charge and held him tight, just letting him sob. Letting him sag with relief against his chest and just cry, holding him just as tight.
And, for some reason, he found himself thinking about that social worker's words from way back when he had adopted Dick. That warning that he may only ever be a stand in for his real father. But, looking at Tim, he knew that those words couldn't have been more misplaced. Because he had no problem being a stand in.
If Tim's parents didn't want to be there for him in the ways 'real' parents should, Bruce would. Even if Tim kept insisting that everything was fine at home, he'd make sure that the boy at the very least had a place to go where he was more than 'fine'. Where he was safe, loved, and protected by everyone there.
And he knew, without a doubt, that everyone hovering just outside his door felt the same.