Disclaimer – You recognise it, I don't own it.

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Martha had to give Tim credit. Despite his casted leg, the stairs were no obstacle to him. He also had a focus like no-one else she'd ever met… Well, except for the boy's father.

"Lucius," Tim smiled, "I think we're over extending in that area. Is there any way to pull back temporarily? Wait until the revenue stream is more established?"

"I agree. We don't want to poison the market for future ventures. I'll sort it out for you."

"Anything else I need to be aware of?"

"Damian turned up yesterday to work."

"He's still doing that? What section is he working now?"

"Catering. They had him working the canteen on the fifth floor. Bussing tables and such like, seeing as how he's not got the Food and Hygiene Qualifications."

"Okay. Looks like he took my advice seriously. Working from the bottom up. How's it going down with the employees?"

"As you expected, they were a little nervous and cautious at first. But word's getting around. They're starting to trust him a little more. They're starting to like him. This recent escapade, has certainly cracked his idea that he's perfect. So he's really starting to show some humility. Real humility. Not the fake stuff he's been using up till now."

"What did he do?" Tim sighed.

"Flooded the kitchen using the Hobart." Lucius laughed, "Because he didn't listen to instructions. They made him clean it all up. Which he did without complaining. Your plan is working."

"Which one?" Tim smiled, "The one designed to turn Damian into a functional human being or the one designed to make sure that every employee loves him?"

"Both?"

"You're doing well, Tim. The footage of the canteen is hilarious though. More than one Board Member is chuckling away. They don't deem Damian a threat."

"How did that get out?" Tim frowned, "I didn't want Damian to be embarrassed, Lucius. Find out who released the footage and I want them reprimanded."

"On it. But it has helped Damian's image."

"I know it will be." Tim agreed, "But I'd rather it was word of mouth. Besides I was planning on releasing something like that myself at the right time. Find out which Board Members find it funny. I want to know who I need to target first."

"I'll rank them by reaction." Lucius declared, "There's a few moving onto Damian's side. I know you don't like the fact that the footage got out, Tim, but it was a good thing."

"But it was uncontrolled." Tim countered, "Besides when Damian finds out… It'll break what little trust he has towards me. If I've taken steps… If I've been trying to control the fall-out… It might not destroy it completely."

"You're doing a great job, Tim."

"No." Tim shook his head, "I'm adequate. I just need to keep everything under control. I'll set up Damian's kingdom so that it's ready for him. But I need time. Six or seven years to get it all perfect."

"I know." Lucius agreed, "I've seen the plans. I know what you're doing. And I'm behind you one thousand percent, if this is what you want to do. You know my opinion with regards to it. But I'll support you in the direction you want to go."

"This is the way things have to be, Lucius. I won't make the same mistake twice. Is there anything else?"

"No, Tim. Just… Just think about it. Okay? My opinion. You have options."

"No. I do not. I'll check in tomorrow. Speak to you then."

"Get well soon, Tim."

The connection was cut.

"You really do care for him," Martha smiled as she placed a glass of apple juice and a plate of cookies next to him, "You're a good brother."

"No," Tim shook his head, "I'm just Damian's Regent."

"You care." Martha chided, "I know a brother when I see one."

"Can you be a brother if only one part of the pair sees the other that way?"

"Yes. Easily."

"Then yes, I'm a brother. But it's safer if I don't think that way. Then I won't slip up when I talk with them."

Martha noticed the use of the plural. This was more than just about Damian.

"Why not let things slip? It would get your feelings out."

"When one has a weak point, you do not point it out so that someone can stab you in it."

"And why would they stab you? Surely they would protect it for you."

"That's never my luck. Love is something I give. Not something I get."

"That's not true."

"If my own mother and father could not love me, how can I expect anyone else to?"

"They did love you."

"You never even knew them." Tim countered, "I like to think that my father was fond of me. And that my mother liked me. But I don't know if they actually did. Or if it was all simply a show for other people to see. It certainly wasn't for my benefit. Because very little of their care went on behind closed doors."

"If they didn't love you, they wouldn't have had you."

"There is a certain level of Class, Breeding and Wealth where women are deemed to be little more than Breed Stock or Chattel. My mother was of that Class, Breeding and Wealth. However, she was also intelligent enough to realize it. She knew that she would be subject to my grandfather's reign until she married. If he died first, she would be expected to obey her younger brother in all things. So she decided to get married. Her criteria for a husband was one that was Wealthy enough and of good enough Class to satisfy her father; Wealthy enough to ensure that she could live the life she desired; weak-willed enough so that she could control him, rather than the other way around; and a man she could come to care for given enough time."

"That explains her marriage, but not you. She loved you."

"I'm not entirely certain that my mother knew how to love. I said women are viewed as Breeding Stock. As long as she had not produced a male heir for my father, she would be subject to condemnation and gossip. She had me to complete her duty. Then she would be free to do as she liked, without anyone looking down on her for her choices. All she had to do was attend a few Charity events, Galas and such like; build a few schools and hospitals and dig a few wells in the countries she visited and no-one so much as made a peep about her lifestyle choices. I was a strategic decision. My life for her freedom."

"That's not true."

"She told me so. I think I was three at the time. Certainly it was before the Circus. My mother never loved me. I was simply a piece on a chess board. The more I impressed other people the higher her social standing was and the more she could get away with. The more she could get away with the less time she spent in Gotham. The less time she spent in Gotham the happier she was. The happier she was the more I felt that I was being a good son. And the more I felt I was being a good son, the closer I believed she would be to actually start loving me."

"And your father?"

"I think he cared in his own way, but I was never the son he wanted. He wanted a sporty, athletic, outgoing son. A jock. What he got was a geek and a nerd. He didn't know how to love me. I was so far away from what he expected that he didn't know how to love me. I guess I was always broken."

"You are not broken!" Martha snapped immediately, "That they didn't let you know that they loved you, is on them not you."

"It's not that they didn't let me know, it's that they didn't."

"No parent cannot love their child."

"Mine managed. Don't fret about it. It is simply the way things are. I don't think my grandfather really loved my mother either. Love isn't a common commodity at a certain level."

"This is unlike you." Martha frowned, "According to Conner you are a very private person."

"I am." Tim nodded, "But you raised an Investigative Reporter. I'd be foolish to assume that curiosity was developed purely on his own. You're a true Yenta. You want everyone to be Perfect and Happy and Shiny… Well, I'm not. I'm not Perfect. I'm Broken. But I've learned how to live with my broken pieces. I'm Happy the way I am. Don't try and fix this. This is how things are. And how things will continue to be. This is my life. Let me live it the way I want."

"But it could be so much better."

"And it could be so much worse. Don't interfere. I'm here because Kon and Bart both think I need someone nearby. But I'd be just as happy on my own. I'm here for their sakes. Not mine. And if you try to interfere again, I'll leave."

"I haven't interfered." She tried to argue.

"These are Alfred's cookies." Tim held one up, "I know them. I know them very well. He doesn't give the recipe out. I barely got him to agree to leave me the recipe in his will. He made these and sent them here. You told him I was here. Kon forgot to include Alfred in his embargo. Who ran them over? Clark?"

"Wally." She admitted.

"Hmm." He blinked in surprise, "Dick must have called in a favour. Leave things be, Mrs Kent. I'm not something you can fix."

She turned and went to leave the room, still reeling from everything Tim had said.

"You don't need fixing," She murmured pausing in the doorway, "You're not broken."

"Yes, I am." He whispered back, just as quietly, "I always have been."

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"He thinks I'm a busybody." She muttered to Jon as they lay in bed that night.

"He's sort of right." Jon shrugged, "What? Martha! You know it's the truth. You always have been. You want to fix the world. It's part of what attracted me to you. You're a good person. You want to make things better for everyone."

"And that's wrong?"

"No! But sometimes people don't want help. You know that the first step is accepting you have a problem."

"He knows that it isn't normal. He just thinks that he's broken. He just doesn't want any help."

"You can't force someone to let you help… Do you remember Rebecca? When she was dating that jerk Steve?"

"Yeah. I told her he was bad news. I still can't believe she stayed with him so long, before she realized that he wasn't good for her."

"She stayed, because everyone was telling her to leave him."

"What? That makes no sense."

"She wanted to prove everyone wrong. She always was stubborn. She stuck it out, partly to prove everyone wrong. And partly because she didn't want people telling her that they told her so. She didn't want help. But everyone was trying to force her to get it."

"And I was one of the most pushy about it. I didn't realize…"

"You never do. You always want to protect people, even from themselves. It makes you a little blind to their desires. You're like a Fairy Godmother, trying to give everyone what you think they need. What you think they want. And you're usually right."

"But sometimes I'm wrong?"

"Sometimes. What you need to do is give a person what they know they need. Ask if they need help. And just be there if they say they don't and you can see that they really, really do."

"What do we do now?"

"We give Tim space. He came here for sanctuary. Whether or not that's how he thinks of it, that's what this place it. What it has always been. A place for people to recuperate and rediscover who they really are. We love that boy and we care for him. But we don't force him to do anything he does not wish to do."

"And when Alfred asks?"

"We tell him that Tim is safe and that we are respecting his privacy. When Tim leaves we tell him that. This is their problem Martha. If we interfere in the fixing of it, Tim will always be wondering if it got fixed because they wanted to fix it, or because we made them fix it. Any interference only lessens the worth."

"It's not fair. It's not fair, Jon. That boy has a heart big enough for the entire world. I can see it. But he's hurting. And you're telling me I can't help?"

"I'm saying that it's not our help that he needs. And you know it'd be both of us. You lead, I follow. Remember?"

"I remember. I just…"

"You want to fix the world. You always have. You gave that part of yourself to Clark. Even when he was just a kid. And I love you for it. But you can't fix this. You shouldn't even try. They need to fix it."

"Otherwise it won't be fixed. I just…"

"You hurt for him. I know. I do too. But he's tough. And they're not stupid. Bruce and his boys? They'll figure this out. You just have to have faith… Prayers wouldn't hurt though."

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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. Glad you like.

Red-Hot Habanero – I had a great time looking up cookie recipes for all those cookies.

Rehabilitated Sith – Jason wouldn't mind either. Bruce is thinking rather than reacting right now.

Inthenightguest – Ah, I thought that New Jersey was a city and a state, much like New York is… My geography has never been all that great… Next time I'll check.