Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.
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"Drake is not at his residency." Damian reported bluntly, "I also could not locate any data regarding where he has chosen to recuperate. However, I did access his computer. There was nothing useful on the system. He has no information regarding his kidnapping."
"Not on that system." Babs put in, "I've got everything he gave the police. But I'm willing to bet half of it was baloney. No way Tim just waited. He's too smart for that. He knows more than he's told them. He just hasn't told anyone else yet."
"Anything from his friend?" Bruce pressed.
"Nothing useful." Babs shrugged, "The Birds took his place apart. He knew nothing about our Night Work. But he was a good friend to Tim. They've known each other for a while; it looks like Tim's been restoring cars and selling them through Jake's company. Reckon it was a hobby."
"Tim always has liked figuring out how things work." Dick muttered, "Equipment, cars… People."
"You get the medical report?" Bruce looked at Dick.
"Yeah." Dick held up a camera, "I didn't really look at it, but what I did see… Well, it's not the worst I've ever seen, but…"
"It's Tim." Steph countered, "All his safe houses are empty… How bad is it?"
"I don't know. Give me some time to upload these. Then we can take a better look."
"The case files for Jacob Spencer are of little use." Bruce redirected the conversation, "Stabbed. Some defensive wounds. He knew what was coming. He just couldn't stop it."
"According to the Birds," Babs put in, "Jacob was a fighter. Bar room brawler. But he didn't consider himself an amateur. He was a smart guy. Really smart. Just never showed it to anyone… Except, maybe Tim. There were a few signs in the place that Tim knew just how smart Jacob was. I can't track when they first met, but looking at things they've known each other since before Jack died… May be even back when Tim was retired."
"Drake has worked hard at keeping Spencer private." Damian remarked, "My mother has extensive files on all of us. There was no mention of Spencer in any of them."
"Sometimes," Bruce sighed, "We all need a place to go. Somewhere safe. Somewhere where we can just be ourselves. Clark has the Fortress. I have always tried to make this our safe place. With varying degrees of success."
Each of them nodded. Even Dick had to acknowledge that there had been times when the Manor had not been his first port in a storm. Had not been his refuge from the world.
"I had always believed that Tim's safe place was his home." Bruce spoke softly, "That despite the emptiness of his house, it was home, because it was filled with happy memories. It seems that I was blinded by Tim's family status."
"You mean the fact that he weren't an orphan." Jason drawled.
"Precisely," Bruce agreed, "I believed that any family was better than no family at all."
"You should have learned from me." Jason retorted, "Mine sold me to Joker."
"I didn't know that." Bruce admitted, "I had always believed she was tricked."
"No. She sold me."
"I am sorry." Bruce murmured, "No one deserves that… And no one deserves what Tim got."
"You went back and looked." Dick sighed, "What did we miss?"
"A lot." Bruce stated, "Jack wasn't typically violent. But… He was definitely negligent. And borderline abusive. All those little things? Things we thought were just a bad day or one-offs? Those were the days he slipped enough for other people to notice."
"Which one?" Jason frowned, "Tim or Jack?"
"Both or either." Bruce declared, "It's all there in black and white. Just nobody ever looked."
"Nobody ever does." Jason sighed, "Not until they have to."
"Going back to the topic," Babs redirected the conversation, "I doubt Tim had that as his safe place… Jacob knew nothing about us. Nothing about Tim's Night Job. So Tim couldn't use it as his harbour…"
"Because Jacob didn't know everything." Dick realized, "Okay. Well, that just makes me wonder where is his safe place. But we'll figure that out at some other point."
"None of his other Safe Houses are inhabited." Steph put in, "But I wasn't expecting anything."
"Jason?" Bruce turned to face him, "Did you find anything?"
"Phobos is a rumour on the streets." Jason sighed, "Everyone agrees he exists. The name and the MO were distinctive enough to point me in a direction. I'll need to run down a few more leads to see if I can locate him. What I did find out… Not brilliant."
"Details." Bruce demanded.
"He's an Out-of-Towner." Jason reported, "Some say New York. Others say New Jersey. He scares quite a few people. But for all that fear… The usual henchmen… They reckon he's thick. Dumber than dirt. That he won't last long."
"Why?"
"He thinks we're myths. Legends. Fairy-tales. Or if we do exist, our reputation is vastly exaggerated."
"He is not scared." Damian stated, "We will teach him to be scared."
"The problems we've got is that no-one knows his real name," Jason started tick off on his fingers, "No-one knows what he looks like. No-one knows who he works for. But they all agree on one thing… He has a boss."
"And they're even more scared of his boss." Dick sighed, "Makes sense."
"I do not follow." Damian frowned.
"What kind of person can keep a monster in line?" Steph explained quickly, "Do we have anything on his boss?"
"New to the circuit." Jason stated, "Ambitious. No name yet, but I've got people looking. Word is that he's trying to establish himself. Deliberately recruited Phobos, because he's not from Gotham. No old ties to other Gothamites. Don't know what his gig is. But everyone agrees that he's focused… Not even sure it's a He."
"Basic mystery." Dick was over by the computer downloading the pictures, "Anything else?"
"Has money. Don't know how much. But certainly more than he would if he was starting out from nothing. Either he's done some work before, or he has another source of financing. Came onto the scene about six months back. Been working quietly to establish a base on which to build."
"Managed to stay off our radar." Bruce acknowledged.
"More by luck than judgement," Babs countered, "We've had a string of high priority cases. Arkham has had more than a few escapees in the time. Jay, you manage to link this boss to any particular crimes? Something that I can start working on?"
"Nothing." Jason shook his head, "Rumours and whispers at the moment. I might manage to get more over the next few days. I've put feelers out. Some of my CIs should get back to me fairly quickly. Even if all they know is nothing, it'll allow me to eliminate sectors."
"Pass everything you get on to me." Babs instructed, "It'll allow me to follow leads. At the moment I've got all the crime in Gotham to correlate to narrow down this Boss."
"Sure thing, Babs."
"Oh God," Dick's voice was no more than a whisper, "Oh God."
Everyone turned to look at him.
Dick was ashen, one hand over his mouth, his cheeks bloated behind the hand; his eyes wide and watery. Unshed tears held back by sheer force of will. His throat was desperately swallowing.
"What is it, Dick?" Bruce moved to his oldest son's side; his arms going to brace the younger man's shoulders.
Dick waved a hand at the screen, even as he moved to throw up in the nearby bin.
"He might have to retire from the field." Dick whispered, "His leg is so badly injured… The physio is going to be long… I don't know if he's going to bounce back from this. And that's just one injury… Then there's… His… His… Oh, God!"
"Don't you dare count Tim out!" Babs snapped, "The Field is not the be all and end all. He is still alive. That's the important thing. Everything else is secondary. Besides, he survived the Clench. I wouldn't put anything past Tim… Ever!"
"May be this time he won't manage it…" Dick tailed off, "You look at what I'm looking at… The burn… Oh God. They… They branded him."
Bruce reached past Dick and closed the screen.
"Everyone upstairs." He instructed, "Babs link to the kitchen. We need to discuss this as a family."
"You read it?" Dick asked, "You need to read it…"
"I will." Bruce promised, "But if it can reduce you to this… Then I need to…"
"You need to read it first." Jason muttered, "Damn controlling…"
"I will not lie about the injuries." Bruce was blunt, "But there is no need for everyone to see the pictures… I still keep logs of injuries. I just keep the pictures of them secured."
"And then you use them to drive yourself deeper into depression when you're in a fowl mood." Babs sighed, "My back was never your fault. It had nothing to do with you. It had nothing to do with your choices."
"But this is." Bruce countered.
"No." Steph shook her head, "It's on all of us. Any one of us could have realized. Just none of us did."
"Kitchen." Bruce repeated, "Not down here… This isn't a discussion for down here. We need Alfred cookies for this."
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Bruce settled himself in one of the kitchen chairs, as he quickly read through Tim's medical report. Around him the rest of his family, minus one, bustled as they settled themselves. Alfred was pouring rounds of hot chocolate, even as Dick flinched a cookie from the cooling rack, instead of the plate on the table.
"Alfred," Dick frowned, "Why are you making Timmy Cookies?"
"Timmy cookies?" Jason blinked, "These are Alfred cookies."
"No." Dick shook his head, "They are Alfred's Timmy Cookies. Dick Cookies are Triple Chocolate Chip. Jaybird Cookies are Mint Chocolate Chip. B Cookies are Vanilla Chocolate Chip. Steph Cookies are Caramel Chocolate Chip. Dami Cookies are Pistachio Chocolate Chip. Babs Cookies are Chocolate Fudge. Cass Cookies are Peanut Butter. Timmy Cookies are Brown Sugar Blueberry. These are Timmy Cookies. Where's Timmy, Alfred? You wouldn't cook these if you didn't know."
"I have been reliably, if circumspectly, informed that Master Tim is currently residing in Smallville." Alfred caved, when all sets of eyes were trained upon him, "Mrs Kent, additionally, informed me that Master Tim has no desire to contact any of us. He believes we do not care for him and she was instructed not to communicate with any Wayne."
"Then why did she tell you?" Jason frowned.
"I am a Pennyworth." Alfred reminded, "I am part of this family. However, I am not a Wayne."
"Tt." Damian sniffed, "Loophole."
"I'll take it." Steph grinned, "Least we know where to fetch Timmy from."
"No." Bruce interrupted.
"What?!" Everyone exclaimed.
"We have to!" Dick protested, "It's Timmy! He's hurt!"
"And if we take him from where he feels safe right now, we'll only do more harm." Bruce countered, "Besides, no one knows where he is. He's safe there. We can use the time to find Phobos and his boss. Take them down and deal with everything. We go after Tim now, he'll think we just feel guilty. Tim never accepts words. He'll never accept what he deems to empty words and empty actions. A show. We try approaching him now… He'll never believe."
"And if we do nothing?" Dick challenged, "He'll believe we don't care. That we never cared!"
"We do. We always will." Bruce countered, "But we can't force anything. Right now, Tim's hurting. Badly. And it's not just the physical. The emotional and mental will be just as bad, if not worse. We need to give him space. Space to sort himself out."
"But we need to show him that he is important to us!" Dick argued.
"Now is not the right time." Bruce chided, "He'll believe it is guilt. Find another way, Dick. We need him to understand that he is wanted and needed and loved and cared for. But if we try to pressure him now, it won't help our case. We're going to have to be very careful… And Dick? It's going to be the hardest for you."
"What? Why?" Dick stared.
"Because you're the one he trusted the most." Jason sighed, "You're the one who betrayed him the most. Once bitten, twice shy. He won't let you close for a long time."
"I'm just as bad." Steph muttered, "He still hasn't really forgiven me for the whole faking my death thing. We're still… Rocky."
"Don't look at me," Babs put in, "I love the kid and all, but… Well, I sent some of the Birds looking for him just after we all thought he was crazy and he knows I normally take Steph's side."
"Ironically Jason and Damian may find it the easiest to bring Tim closer to us." Bruce returned.
"There's always Cass." Dick suggested, "She hasn't hurt Tim. Not that I'm aware of. Not without a damn good reason."
Both Bruce and Alfred nodded at his words. Mind manipulation was always catalogued as a good reason in their books.
"Tt." Damian snorted, "She is not good with words."
"And that's probably why Tim might still trust her." Bruce agreed, "She relies upon actions. And Tim trusts actions over words. They always were a good pairing. Good partners."
"Then why isn't she here?" Jason frowned.
"She said that she would check China." Dick stated, "Apparently there's a gang there that Tim's dealt with in the past. She thought they might have targeted him."
"She went after them." Steph nodded, "Good call. She could have been right."
"How do we fix this?" Dick asked, "How can we prove to Tim that we're serious?"
"We find the people who hurt him." Bruce stated, "We find out why. We find out everything. And we give Tim proof that we care about him. Things that aren't just a show for other people to see. Personal things. Think long and hard. Find something that means something to him. The important thing is to give Tim time to heal."
"But make sure Tim knows that we still care about him." Steph countered.
"Give him time." Bruce reiterated, "Tim needs time to heal."
"We give him too much time and he'll pull his mask back on." Dick reminded, "Then we'll never manage to convince him."
"It's a balancing act." Bruce agreed, "But right now he doesn't need the stress. We'll only do more harm."
"What are his injuries?" Jason frowned, "The way you're acting… This is bad."
"Dick's right," Bruce breathed, "These could potentially mean his retirement from the field. But they didn't just injure him. They set out to humiliate him and psychologically wound him. I doubt they meant to, at first. But he's stubborn. Runs in the family. So they tried to break him. Scarification was attempted. Whether it takes is another thing entirely. Tim denied he was raped."
"But you suspect." Dick whispered.
"I do not believe this is a topic for the kitchen table." Alfred reprimanded.
"Alfred, we need to know." Jason countered, "Tim's gonna have all kinds of traps in his head after that. I know I did. Still do."
"So we watch out for his back," Dick remarked, "Don't focus on his scars."
"You're not going to see them." Bruce corrected, "They focused on his back. He might be touchy about names. Ours particularly."
"Why?" Damian frowned, "That makes little sense, father. Names have never been particularly important to Drake in the past."
"Be very careful if you call him that." Bruce reprimanded slightly, "It looks like they made a big thing about the fact that he wasn't a Wayne."
"He is." Dick snapped back, "He is."
"Not in their eyes." Bruce replied, "And possibly not in his. We're going to have to be very careful."
"What did they do?" Jason asked bluntly, "No beating around the bush, B."
"Starved him. Drowned him. Broke his leg. Let it heal wrong. They had to rebreak it to fix it. Whipped him. Burned him. Branded him… With our name. Then they carved our names into his back. Even included Titus… But forgot Alfred."
"Then we are dealing with ignorant thugs, Master Bruce." Alfred was indignant, "They do not count me as a part of this family. Ranking the hound as higher in status than myself."
"And they put Tim at a similar level." Steph breathed, "God, that's not going to be good. Tim's not got great self-esteem at the best of time."
"Are you blind Brown?" Damian snapped, "Drake has power, influence, wealth. Why would he have poor self-esteem?"
"Because of everything he perceives he lacks," Jason sighed, "Even as a kid I knew my mother loved me. I doubt Timmy even got that."
"He never fit in at school." Dick agreed, "Always too smart. Always on the outskirts of anything. He's intellectually superior, but socially…? Well, Jason's better at making friends."
"He always has been a bit clumsy about it." Steph put in, "He was worse when I first met him. Robin was where most of his social confidence came from."
"But how do we tell him that we love him, when he doesn't really understand?" Dick asked.
"We'll just have to find a way." Bruce shrugged, "There's always a way."
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Please Review.
I write stories because I can't draw. I have all these images in my head that I cannot reproduce. So I try and describe them with words. If anyone else would like to try to translate what I have written into what they think I saw in my head, they have my permission. I only ask that I be notified of it, so that I may look and go "OOoooh!".
Many thanks to my reviewers:
Loftcat27 – Thanks. They're fun characters to write. Almost halfway normal.
Red-Hot Habanero – Oh isn't he just! *Grins*
Rehabilitated Sith – Yeah, going to the Manor isn't a good idea right now.
Inthenightguest – You're welcome. I'm trying to keep this vaguely realistic in terms of healing.