Chapter Text
“Tim, wait.”
Tim paused in his stride, readjusting his laptop. He turned and spotted Dick making his way towards him in a hurry. Dick looked worse for wear, his face weary and tired. Similar to how Bruce has looked these past few days. Tim didn’t blame them, they were both putting out fires left and right. Jason had been doing his part as well. It was only Tim who’s been hiding in the back, watching the elders in the family scramble together to figure out how to deal with Damian’s ‘situation’.
A situation that might not have happened had Tim not laughed in Damian’s face when he asked for help.
“Yeah?” Tim smiled when Dick caught up in the middle of the corridor.
“You got a minute?”
“I was just heading to my room,” Tim glanced down the hall towards the bedrooms wishfully. He had so far successfully avoided whatever this was going to be about. Everyone rightfully focused on Damian.
“Cool!” Dick cheered and slung a loose arm over Tim’s shoulders. “You had a long day at college. Wanna grab something to eat?”
Tim tried not to slump too much and hummed, letting himself get dragged away from his bedroom and towards the empty kitchen. It was too early for Alfred to start on dinner and there was no other reason for anyone else to be in the area.
“Can I have some coffee?” Tim asked hopefully.
“How about some fruit?”
“Dick, I could be typing up my assignment, right now. So it’s either some coffee or I’m gonna go back.” Tim asked haughtily, he could at least compromise.
Dick seemed to understand that and sighed, sitting himself at the table as he let Tim make his drink.
Tim stirred the coffee in his mug and kept his eye on the swirling brown patterns. “You wanna rip the bandaid?”
He could hear Dick wincing, “I don’t know how else to start.”
“Bruce put you up to this?” Tim asked as he sat down. He could at least know who to blame.
“No,” Dick said quickly. “No, I was just worried.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you should direct that worry on the bra— kid.” Tim corrected himself. An odd sense of guilt boiling inside his gut. How many times did he insult Damian? He knew Damian was different to Dick and Jason. That Damian reacted strongly to his teasing.
In hindsight, the kid’s funny reactions didn’t seem so amusing anymore.
“I am.” Dick frowned, “but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you too.”
Tim held in his scoff. He didn’t need alarm bells going off in his brother’s mind.
“It’s been a long few days.” Dick pushed. “We’ve learned a lot of messed up things.”
Tim couldn’t hold it in. “You mean about how I made fun of Damian when he tried to tell me that his teacher was molesting him?”
He felt horrible when Dick flinched back. When he saw the older hands resting on the table clench violently.
“Sorry,” Tim hurriedly said. “I didn’t mean to…”
“You didn’t know then.” Dick said quietly, his voice carrying. “When he came to you, you didn’t know. It’s not your fault.”
“That’s not good enough.” Tim insisted. “Supposed to be a detective here. Couldn’t be bothered enough to figure this out. If I wanted to, I would’ve seen it.”
“None of us did,” Dick glanced away.
A heavy silence settled on top of them. Tim was wishing he’d walked to his bedroom quicker.
“It’s not your fault,” Tim muttered and glared at the stagnant coffee.
Dick stayed quiet for a moment. “You say that a lot.”
Tim swallowed. This was what Dick initially wanted to talk about. “When I was a little, I came across a social media post that talked about it not being the victim’s fault. It was the first time I heard about anything related to… that. I didn’t even know other people really went through it. Not that I went through it either. But I guess I clung to it. It was a nice sentiment.”
Tim cringed when he heard Dick breathe heavily. “It was right,” Tim could hear the tremble in Dick’s voice. “It wasn’t your fault. God, Tim, you would’ve been so small.”
He could never explain it to anyone, but a fury began to bubble to his gut and he gripped the coffee mug aggressively. “You really should be dealing with Damian. He’s the one it actually happened to.”
“Tim…”
“Nothing happened, Dick.” Tim hissed. “I know you want to play therapist but nothing happened.”
Tim finally looked up at Dick’s face. His anger screeched to a halt at the sight. He assumed Dick would be upset but he never expected his brother to look so… shattered. Ripped open. Cracked.
“Really,” Tim tried again in a more comforting manner. “I don’t even remember.”
He watched Dick take in a stuttering breath. “You don’t remember?”
“Yeah,” and it was the honest truth. He remembered the people. He remembered his parents leaving for weeks at a time. He remembered his desperation to be good and in return to be loved. He remembered not caring who it was who loved him as long as they didn’t leave him. He remembered the two people who offered that affection.
And then blank.
Followed by the people leaving anyway.
“It’s all black.” Tim admitted. “So, please just… put your focus on the others. On Damian. I’m okay.”
Dick looked like he wanted to push. He seemed to be doubting the story. What else was new? Dick never did trust him. They have a whole history of it.
“Alright.” Dick smiled through the crumpled mask. “I believe you.”
Tim nodded as Dick started to leave. He glanced down at his hands gripping right on the old mug. His coffee had gone cold.
Tim huffed as the elevator doors slid open. He needed to get out of the Manor. The air was stifling with unsaid confessions. Tim needed a sense of normality and he needed it now. So when Tam sent a reminder of a board meeting he was more than happy to jump into it.
He needed to be somewhere away from all the guilt. A place where it was easier to compartmentalise.
He entered the empty board room and headed towards the front, having come early to allow time to prepare. It was unlike his character but he needed some time alone. To think. Or to not think.
Frustrated by his confusion about his own state of mind, Tim focused on the task of connecting his laptop to the smartboard.
Just as he was opening up his presentation, Nicholas Collins entered the room. One of the higher board members. Tim had voted against him joining solely based on the lack of significant experience that Collins had, but alas, old money always wins. Even in Wayne Enterprises itself.
But Tim still held in his cringe when he glanced at the time and realised there were still six minutes left before the rest of the members would file in to start. The last thing he needed was to be around Collins, the older man was always creepy. But Tim usually shrugged off the advances, harmless in the grand scheme of things. Besides, Tim was rarely at the company these days.
But in light of recent events, Tim couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed as the door shut itself close behind Collins.
“Mr Wayne!” Collins grinned, “I didn’t believe it when I heard that you got in early.”
Tim smiled politely, so much for alone time. “Just wanted to get ahead, Mr Collins.”
Collins tsked, “how many times do I have to remind you to call me Nick.” Collins glanced up at the slides of the board and whistled. “Daddy Wayne got you busy?”
Tim turned away to prevent Collin catching the annoyance on his face. It wasn’t just him who scoffed at Tim’s position of power but he was definitely one of the regulars. “Actually, Mr Collins,” no way were they on a first name basis. “This was solely my project. I’ll be discussing how the energies being pushed into infrastructure of the Wayne Warehouses can be better redirected towards the solar heating systems at the Wayne Homeless branches. Whatever is left spare to be used to potentially open up new shelters. What with winter coming up and all.”
“Hmm,” Collins came around the table to where Tim was standing, reading ahead on the slides. “That’s pretty clever. Don’t know if I’d agree though. If the company buildings don’t look formidable then how will competitors respect us?”
What an old money type of answer. ‘Just make sure we look good’. It’s all about image. Tim’s own parents had been the same. “Let’s save our decisions for after the presentation, Mr Collins?”
Collins smiled leerily and Tim avoided the gaze by glancing at the time again. Two minutes to deflect.
“It’s cute when you get all bothered.”
Tim bristled and whipped his head back around in a glare.
‘Be neutral. Don’t show emotion.’ He heard his mother’s voice.
“I’d like to remind you of the professional environment, Mr Collins.” Tim stated tightly.
But Tim swallowed tensely when Collins took a step forward. He stood right in front of him, the meeting table behind Tim was trapping him in place.
Collins leaned forward, his breath hitting Tim’s skin as he whispered. “You’re just a little boy playing in a suit, who needs a good, long lesson on being a real man.”
Tim’s stomach lurched at the innuendo. He felt his face heat up as the blood rushed to his head. His rabbit-heart pounding against his ribcage.
Collins must be in his late forties. Tim was only seventeen.
How different was this scenario to Damian’s?
Was this how his little brother felt?
Before Tim could respond or Collins could proceed, the doors opened. In a beat, Collins had stepped away, reading through the slides on the screen with his hands behind his back. Not a care in the world as he welcomed the other board members.
Tim was still stuck where he stood. Forcing in breaths to calm himself, wondering how he would conduct the presentation now. He made himself move to greet the other members and his gaze caught Lucius’. The older man was frowning at him before raising a brow from across the room.
Silently, ‘are you alright?’ Went unsaid.
Tim smiled wide in response. Brushing off whatever the hell happened. Nothing happened. He was exaggerating. As usual.
“Stop making up disgusting lies, Timothy. Mrs Farringdon would never do that. You’re just remembering wrong.”
It’s all in his head.
The presentation went smoothly, with Tim focusing on his performance and pushing the criteria while he avoided directly meeting anyone’s eyes. He didn’t think he could handle that at the moment.
The question and answers segment also went forward without a hitch, Collins thankfully having nothing to add and Tim getting away with not even looking in his direction.
Although, he should be able to do so with no issue. Collins wasn’t even a blip in the danger radar. Just a man with lots of time on his hands.
So he makes a comment or two, so what?
Tim hurried out of the board room the moment he was able, deflecting Lucius’ concern as he passed by the man.
He needed to calm down. It had been two hours since that moment. He was being stupid.
“That is enough out of you, Timothy! I don’t want to hear anymore of it.”
It was just him being sensitive again.
That’s when it happened.
On his way to his office, he caught a face in the corner of his eye. A face that he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. He turned and no one was there. His brain playing tricks.
Suddenly, he was thrust into the past.
An unfamiliar past.
A memory that wasn’t his.
At least… he couldn’t remember this.
“Where’s your mom and dad?”
“They had to go on an important business trip. They get to go on lots of adventures!”
“That sounds exciting! Who’s taking care of you?”
“No one! I’m a big boy.”
“So, you’re all on your own?”
“Yes, Mr Harris.”
Tim shook his head, that was clear. He remembered interacting with Harris at galas. But the memory felt different now.
“Do you mind if I come and stay the night?”
“Like a sleepover? Yes, please!”
“We can watch movies if you’d like. We could even play a game.”
When was this? When he was ten? Nine?
“You’re too far away, Timmy. Come sit here.”
“On your lap, Mr Harris? Are you sure?”
“We’re friends, right? Unless… you don’t want to be friends…”
“No! No! I’m sorry, I want to be friends.”
“Let’s be best friends, Timmy.”
Tim tripped over air when the memory burst in his head. He didn’t… he didn’t remember this. But he remembered cuddling. He felt safe. Loved. He remembered feeling happy. It was his first real cuddle.
“Let’s watch something else, yeah?”
“Whatever you want, Mr Harris.”
“How about a grownup movie? Do you think you’re old enough for that?”
He must have been nine.
“Mr Harris… what are they doing?”
“Shh, keep watching, Timmy.”
How could he have been so stupid?
“Why are they doing that? Doesn't that… But that’s dirty! It’s weird.”
“You don’t want to try that?”
“No! It’s weird. They’re naked and… I don’t think I like it.”
“What if I did this…”
He was old enough to figure out Batman’s identity but he was still so dumb.
“Wait. Um. Mr Harris, please stop.”
“Did you want me to leave? I thought we were friends?”
“Please don’t leave! We are friends! We can… we can play something else.”
“But big boys play this game. Come on, I’ll make you happy. Just keep watching the movie.”
It was all his fault.
“Shh, don’t cry. It’s nice.”
“I want my mom.”
“But your mom left. I wonder why she left. What did you do that made her want to stay away from you?”
“I don’t want to watch this anymore, Mr Harris, please.”
“You don’t want me to leave you all alone too, do you?”
“No— I— ow— no— I want— I want my mommy!”
I want my dad. Tim gasped and grabbed his pounding head. I want Bruce.
Where was he? His vision was blurred. Shit, he’d been crying. He was still in the middle of this corridor. Anyone could pass by. Lacking his usual grace, Tim rushed haphazardly to his office. Banging the door shut and locking it behind him. His chest heaving to take a breath.
Tim felt himself fall back on the floor in the empty room. He couldn’t breathe. Whose memory was that? That couldn’t have been his. When did that even happen? Nothing had happened between him and the adults who wanted to hurt him. There had just been attempts. Right?
Right?
The next time he opened his eyes the sun had set. He didn’t even remember closing them.
Apparently, dissociating was something he did a lot.
He’d made his way home. Numb. Unaware. Somehow alive.
He passed by everyone’s defenses, having missed them all on his way to his room. Tim fell into his bed, his eyes dull in the dark.
Where did that memory come from?
He had believed for years that nothing had happened. But something had. Something bad had happened and even now it was still blurry.
Victims were supposed to remember these. These kinds of things were meant to be tattooed in the brain. Scarring them for life. Just look at Damian.
God, just look at Damian.
Tim imagined himself asking for help at that moment and then felt his heart seize at the thought. No wonder Damian never outright said it.
Besides, it was all in the past. What point was there telling anyone now? Harris was in prison. Bruce had put him there. Because of Jason.
Holy shit, Harris had gone after Jason.
Tim gagged at the realisation. That same man had done exactly the same thing to his brother.
Tim thought about how easy it would be to ask for help. To even send a single text to literally anyone in this insane family. It felt like an impossible task.
Too impossible to even ponder over.
Exhaustion clammed up his bones and Tim felt himself fall into a haze of sleep.
Being unconscious sounded fun.
It happened again.
It had been a fairly normal boring morning. Two days had passed since his revelation but Tim had shoved it to the back of his mind. Besides, how selfish was it to distract his family over an old memory when they should be focusing on helping Damian?
So Tim had gone to college. He’d attended his classes and slept through half of them. He typed up his assignment and he drank his coffee. He met up with Steph. He did his daily tasks. He did what was expected of him. It was a normal day.
He had only just sat at a table in the campus cafe when someone walked by him. He was too focused on his laptop to notice who it was but she was wearing a fragrance.
Smells have memories.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Janet.”
“But he’d be such an inconvenience. Please let me just hire our usual nanny.”
“Darling, I miss children. My own left me years ago. Let an old lady relive her youthful days.”
“Well… if you insist. Timothy. You be a good boy to Mrs Farringdon, alright? Do as she says.”
That wasn’t new. He remembered that beginning.
“Little Timothy, come here, sweetheart. It’s your bath time.”
“Shh, stop whining, dear, let me scrub you clean. You don’t want to be yucky, do you?”
He never remembered what exactly he told his mother. But Tim remembers Janet scolding him. For telling lies.
“I’m c—cold.”
“You have to dry first, dear.”
“I want m—my clothes, p—please.”
“You’re not trying to hide away from me, are you, lovely? Oh dear, that’s very naughty of you.”
Tim could recall his parents arguing in front of him when he told them about bath times. He remembered his father placing a firm hand on his shoulder and making him promise not to say such lies in front of others. It would make them all look very bad.
He never remembered what actually happened at bath times.
“It’s going to be your sixth birthday soon! Let’s take a picture before getting out of the tub.”
“But can I put on my pajamas, please?”
“Oh no, Timothy. Let me take a picture of how cute you are like this. Stand up for me now, we don’t want the water to cover you up.”
The camera was out a lot. He never found out what happened to those photos. Tim now knew that the possibilities were endless. Did she keep them for herself? Did she upload them online for millions to see? Sell them? Blur out his face so no one recognised the famous Drake son while they downloaded his body onto their computers?
“I don’t want a bath today, please.”
“You don’t want your mommy to see you’re a disgusting little boy, do you? She might not ever want to take you back then.”
Something crashed behind the cafe counter and startled Tim back to reality. His breath hitched. He could feel himself sweating and felt dizzy. How had he forgotten all of that? Had he really been so young? He knew Mrs Farringdon attempted something but he never knew what. But… that wasn’t an attempt. It happened. He never liked baths and he had never known why.
He had repressed all this?
Even now he couldn’t remember the whole picture. Only chipped pieces to a decaying puzzle.
Oh, he was shaking.
He needed to leave.
Where even was Mrs Farringdon? One day, Mrs Mac just showed up as if she’d never left and Tim never saw Mrs Farringdon anywhere. Not at any gala or event. He didn’t dare ask his mother.
Tim was seventeen now. He wasn’t scared of some old rich lady.
So why did he feel like he couldn’t breathe?
He had to get out.
Clumsily, he gathered all his belongings and raced to the carpark. Leaving his cooling coffee behind on the table.
Tim hadn’t meant to tell anyone.
He didn’t see the point. His family was already so frazzled by the current situation. What point was there to bring up the past? It almost seemed cruel.
He owed Damian this much for not listening to him earlier. He wasn’t going to steal the spotlight from the kid. Not for a guy already in jail and an old lady who was probably dead.
Tim had apparently repressed all this trauma. It was his own fault.
‘It’s not your fault.’ A disembodied voice reminded him. ‘You were a kid. You were five. You were nine.’
But now he’s seventeen. He’s not going to go crying over spilt milk.
‘You’re being a hypocrite.’
Who cares?
Tim had been making his way to the library when he caught sight of Jason and Damian inside having a conversation. So he retreated quietly and decided on hiding out in his bedroom.
Or at least, that was the plan. But he fully ran into a solid body.
“Oof!” Tim nearly fell back but hands caught him by the shoulders.
“Sorry, Tim. Didn’t mean to jump scare you.” Dick smiled.
“It’s fine,” Tim rubbed his sore nose. Dick’s chest was way too solid despite his soft jumper.
The next thing Tim knew, Dick had rested an arm over his shoulders and started leading them both towards the kitchen. Again. “I never asked how your presentation went.”
Tim did his best to hide his grimace when he was reminded of Collins. “It went well. I managed to convince the majority of the board to agree that the homeless shelters were more of a priority.”
“That’s great!” Dick congratulated. “That calls for icecream.”
Tim rolled his eyes, “you were going to get icecream anyways.”
“But this way, Alfie won’t tell me off.” His older brother grinned.
Immediately, Dick began rummaging through the kitchen freezer. Emerging victorious with napoleon icecream. “Found it!”
Tim sat himself down at the table, feeling an odd sense of deja vu. But he accepted the icecream happily. There was no reason for the nauseated feeling in his gut. Dick was genuinely here this time to hang out, not to interrogate.
Also, Dick finally looked at ease. Definitely not as exhausted as he had been the last time the two sat at the table. He was scooping up his icecream with zero stress hidden beneath his muscles.
It wasn’t fair on Tim to put it all back on. For something that’s over and done with.
“How did the police task go at Bludhaven?” Tim asked conversationally.
Dick rolled his eyes, “manageable. With all the bad guys exposed and kicked off the force, it’s really understaffed the precinct. Lesser evil, I guess?”
“You’re doing good.” Tim praised. And Dick truly was doing well. Both in his personal life and with the family. He was such a distinct part of the foundation that formed the family. Every single person relied on him.
Who was Tim to make the pressure heavier?
“Thanks, Tim.” Dick hid his sincerity behind a dopey smile. But Tim saw right through it. “Are you free tonight?”
Tim shrugged, mixing up the icecream flavours. “I can spare time.”
“Awesome, cause I was thinking we could watch a movie with everyone.”
“We could watch movies if you’d like”
“How about a grownup movie?”
“Tim?”
Tim jolted back to reality. Eyes wide as he tried to adjust to where he was. He flinched back when he saw Dick was startlingly closer than he had been a second ago.
“Tim? You spaced out for a minute there.”
A minute?
“I…” Tim blinked and glanced down at his bowl. His icecream was meltier than it had been a moment ago. “Sorry. I dozed off. What movie did you have in mind?”
Dick leaned back in his chair, a small frown on his brows. “Maybe you should try taking a nap instead.”
“No,” Tim shook his head insistently. “It’ll be fun. What did you wanna see?”
Dick backed off, “there’s a new Disney movie. Or if we were feeling nostalgic then we could watch one of the classics. Something lighthearted and chill.”
Tim nodded along, biting into the cold food to force himself to stay in the moment. “You think you’ll be able to rope Jason into it?”
“He’s got a leg and a half right now. I can take him.” Dick joked.
Tim laughed at the thought. But he felt his chest shift in unease. What was wrong with him? Why did he want Dick to push? He wanted his brother to try and interrogate him and ask him what was wrong.
It would definitely justify the urge to tell Dick everything. And he really did want to.
But that was selfish. Dick was having such a rare peaceful moment. He was tired from having to be there for Damian and the others.
‘But you’re his brother too.’
Barely.
‘You need to talk to someone.’
Shut up, conscious.
‘You’re doing what Damian did.’
And Tim stopped at that.
Dick was still talking, choosing a movie. But Tim’s mind halted. He was doing exactly what Damian had done. Not talking. Just pushing it under a cover, hoping it’ll work out. And it hurt Damian. It hurt all of them.
And they all experienced it. Dick, Jason, even Bruce. They would understand.
But they were having to deal with such an influx of this type of issue these past few days. It was selfish of Tim to add more grief.
Although, Dick had asked for more information the other day.
He wasn’t asking now though. What if he gets mad? All he wanted was some icecream and then Tim trauma dumps all over it?
Dick’s the type to feel extra sad if he finds out that Tim felt like he couldn’t come to him, though.
They all promised each other that they’d be there…
‘It’s not your fault.’
It would be nice to hear someone else say that regarding Mrs Farringdon and Mr Harris.
Dick wasn’t prodding though. There was no opening to reveal such information.
But… he just had to… Tim just had to start.
Just open the tap. The rest will spill out.
“Can we talk?” Tim blurted out.
Dick paused mid-sentence, blinking at the sudden shout. “What was that?”
‘Deep breaths, Tim.’
“I said, can we talk?”
“Oh,” Dick put his spoon down. “Sure.”
Now with the opening, Tim felt himself clamming up. He felt as though cement was pouring in down his throat and sitting in his lungs.
He just felt so guilty. Dick agreed to listen so easily and Tim was just going to ruin his mood.
Dick tilted his head and waited patiently.
“I…” Tim began dumbly. The heaviness in his body was slowly morphing into fluttering anxiety. His breaths were becoming shallow and quick.
“I’m here,” Dick said gently. “I’m not going anywhere. Take your time.”
And wasn’t that what started the entire thing in the first place? Tim’s damn abandonment issues.
Who the hell lets an old lady take pictures of them in the bath? Who in their right mind befriends a middle aged man?
‘It’s not your fault.’
“I… I didn’t lie. I didn’t remember… but… but now I do.” Tim forced through the thick tarmac in his throat.
Dick’s face stayed open and kind, but a shadow layered itself on top as he evidently understood the tone of the topic. “You remember?”
“I thought nothing had happened. Cause I didn’t remember.” Tim tried to explain what he didn’t even understand. “But I’ve been having some sort of flashbacks? I’m remembering like lost memories and… and things did happen. I just forgot.” He sat still, feeling rather stupid.
Dick took a heavy breath. “That’s alright. It makes sense that you forgot.”
“I thought I forgot because there was nothing to remember.” Tim spat, anger brewing under the anxiety. Anger at himself. Anger at the pedophiles. Anger at his parents. Anger at the world.
“You experienced a trauma. Something unimaginable.” Dick spoke softly. “You were a kid. You still are a kid. Your mind must have been protecting you.”
Tim felt his hands shake. He was a kid. “Dick, I was five.”
This piece of information shattered the fake mask of a confident big brother. Because Dick’s face absolutely crumbled into dust the moment that Tim revealed it.
“No,” a breathless plea. “You were five?”
It was the image of Dick breaking that got to Tim. The tears began letting themselves into the back of Tim’s eyes.
“Can I…” Dick seemed lost for words. “Can I hug you?”
Tim replied by standing and shuffling around the table, flopping towards Dick, letting his brother catch him and readjust him on his lap. Tim slumped with his back against Dick’s body. He was too old for this. This was embarrassing. He was seventeen. But he couldn’t help but mourn the five and nine year old versions of himself who let the worst happen just for some love.
Dick’s arms came to wrap themselves around Tim’s body, firm and solid. But Tim knew all he had to do was shift for Dick to let him go. Tim was safe here. With his big brother. He could feel Dick’s own broken heart thumping on his back as he leaned fully against the older man.
“Weren’t you five when we met? At the circus?” Dick’s whisper shook.
Tim nodded and Dick’s arms tightened.
“You were so small.” Dick choked.
Tim blinked and suddenly he was gone.
Tim felt the large hands roam around his body. He could hear the lewd sounds coming from the adult film on the TV. But Tim turned his head away from the man muttering fake reassurances in his ear. The man’s touch didn’t feel loving anymore. It didn’t feel comforting like his cuddle had been.
Mr Harris didn’t listen when Tim asked him politely to stop. Because this was what friends did. This was what big kids did. Mommy and Daddy said that Tim was a big boy.
Tim didn’t think he liked being a big boy.
He turned away from the TV. Away from Mr Harris.
Instead, he turned towards the large window. If you looked carefully enough then you could see artificial lights twinkling in through the leaves of the garden trees.
Those were the Wayne Manor lights. Bruce Wayne would be getting ready to go out as Batman soon. Robin too because it was a weekend.
Tim kept his eyes on the window as Mr Harris laid him down on the sofa and rolled on top of Tim.
His mind escaped away as he envisioned Batman breaking in through the window. He imagined Batman using his cool bat gadgets and fists to take down Mr Harris. He fantasised that Robin would wrap up Tim with his cape. It looked so soft.
Tim didn’t comprehend anything Mr Harris did, because Tim wasn’t present in the moment.
“—cotton. It’s soft, right? The table is… I’m not sure what kind of wood it’s made up of. It’s probably expensive though. It would be funny if it was mahogany, huh?”
Tim blinked up tiredly at Dick’s ramblings.
Dick beamed down at Tim. “Hey, there. You went away for a few minutes.”
“Again?” Tim rested his exhausted head on Dick’s shoulder. He’s sure the elder wouldn’t mind too much.
“Has this been happening a lot?” Dick asked carefully.
Apparently since he was nine. Or five? He wasn’t sure.
“Why am I only just remembering?” Tim changed the subject, extremely frustrated about this. “I was fine. I didn’t remember. I was coping. Why now?”
Dick started to sway them relaxingly on the chair, most likely as a response to Tim’s anger. “It’s probably in light of everything that's happened recently, it’s brought it to the forefront of your mind.”
Tim’s mind helpfully supplied that Collins probably wasn’t helping either. But the last thing Tim wanted was to bring that up. Not right now.
“It’s not fair.” Tim whined.
Dick tsked. “I know, sweetheart.”
“Why do I care? Mr Harris is in jail. Bruce put him there!”
Dick winced. “It can still hurt.”
Tim stilled at that. It wasn’t fair to put that argument on Dick. Not when his brother’s own rapist was in jail.
Before Tim could apologise, Dick asked. “Who was the other one, again?”
Tim shrugged. “I don’t know what happened to her. It was an old lady called Mrs Farringdon.”
Tim’s brain froze when Dick’s entire body tensed like a taut wire.
“Jewellery-Lady?”
Tim pulled away slightly from the warm albeit painful hug to twist around and look at Dick’s face. “Huh?”
“Jewellery-Lady,” Dick sighed defeatedly, loosening his grip on Tim and sagging into the chair. “Mrs Farringdon. I had a run in with her when I was like, fourteen? She was the first person to make a pass on me.”
Tim’s eyes widened. First Jason’s pedophile hurt him and now Dick’s? “Small world.”
Dick huffed a pained laugh. “Yeah.”
Tim rested back into Dick’s enveloping cuddle. It felt nice. Feeling loved.
“She’s in jail. We put her there.” Dick informed him tersely and started to run his hand through Tim’s hair, easing out the tangles.
Tim hummed and shut his eyes in response. “Makes sense. Bruce would’ve been on it. My parents just told me not to tell anyone ‘cause it would look bad.”
Tim felt Dick’s hand stutter while running through his hair. “Everytime I lower my opinion on them, they come back from the dead to make me hate them more. No offence.”
“None taken,” Tim whispered. “Can I ask if you wouldn’t mind letting Bruce know for me? I want him to know but I just… I don’t know if I can do this again.”
Dick nodded, “of course. Anything.”
Tim hummed his thanks. “I’m sorry, by the way. I didn’t want to bother you.”
“What?” He felt the arm around his body squeeze. “You’d never bother me.”
Tim might as well be honest while he’s here. “I just… didn’t want to distract you from Damian and everything else that’s been happening.”
“Tim.” Dick shifted so that he could see Tim and the younger boy forced his eyes open. “I have enough time for the both of you. I’m sorry that when Damian first joined, I couldn’t divide my attention equally but I swear, I’ve learned now. I have enough love for everyone in this family. And that includes you.”
“I just felt selfish…”
“Tim, thank you, for coming to tell me. I’m happy to look after you. To keep you safe. I want to. Please let me.” Dick begged, sounding so unlike himself.
Tim could only nod. He thought back to how one of his first dissociative episodes at nine years old revolved around Robin helping and saving him. With Robin wrapping the soft cape around his trembling body.
Here, in the warmth of the Wayne Manor kitchen. Sat on the lap of his now big brother, Dick Grayson, where his protective arms enveloped and shielded him away from the world. He felt like that old fantasy was finally coming true.
“None of this is your fault. I love you, Tim.”
That’s all he ever wanted to hear.