Fic: Postliminium
Aug. 27th, 2010 11:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
munninTitle: Postliminium (the right to return home.)
Author: Munnin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dick, Tim, Bruce and Alfred, Janet Drake
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.
Verse: Mended Wings.
Previous chapters: Mended Wings, Fly and Fall, Clipped, Corners and Turning Points, Only Son, Fever and Heroes.
Summary: How do the Batclan cope when Tim’s mother comes home? For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
larsinger29 who put the idea in my head and ladyblkrose for nurturing it.
Tim finished his patrol and headed back to the cave. Bruce had decided to loop back and double check the docks but he’d noticed how preoccupied Tim seemed and sent him home. It’d taken Tim the better part of a week to recover from his fever last time and has healthy as he felt, neither Bruce nor Dick would let him push himself too hard.
“You look tired little brother.” Dick called, not looking round as Tim slipped behind a screen to change.
“I’m fine.” Tim muttered, pulling on jeans and a tee-shirt.
“Skipping the shower tonight?” Dick turned, worried by Tim’s change of routine. Tim was usually yearned for a shower after patrol.
“I...I have to get home.” Tim muttered, hurrying to tie his sneakers.
“But you are home, Timmy.” Dick teased, trying to get a rise from the young man.
Tim ignored him and hurried to pack his stuff into a bag. “Alfred, do you mind driving me back?”
“Not at all, Master Timothy.” Alfred answered, placing a coffee next to Dick’s hand. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine. I’ve just got to get home.” Tim insisted, not look either of them in the eye.
“Tim?” Dick hauled himself up onto his sticks and caught Tim by the shoulder. “Tim, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I just...” Tim shook him off, “I need to get home.”
Dick lunged forward, determined to get answers but Alfred stepped in. “Master Tim, why don’t you go and collect some muffins from the kitchen and meet me in the garage.”
Tim nodded and ran for the stairs.
“Alfred!” Dick demanded, annoyed and worried. “What gives? Can’t you see something’s up with Tim?”
“I’m aware of that fact Master Dick.” Alfred soothed, steadying his young charge as Dick rocked back on his heels in frustration. “I’m also fairly certain I know what’s bothering him. Please, allow me to deal with this.”
Dick chewed his lip. “Promise you’ll tell me when you get back?”
“You have my word.” Alfred promised.
Dick caught his hand as he walked away. “Look after him? Please?”
Alfred paused to ruffle a hand through Dick’s hair. “It’s what I do.”
***
Tim sat silently at Alfred’s side for the drive home. Despite Alfred’s suggestions, he always felt weird about riding in the back when Alfred drove him anywhere.
As he pulled the car up, Alfred glanced over to the young man he’d come to think of has his youngest charge. “Master Timothy? Would you like me to drive you to the airport in the morning? I assume you’ll wish to meet your mother when her plane arrives.”
Tim jumped and pulled back. “How...how did you know?”
Alfred gave him a small sympathetic smile. “How long has it been since you last saw her?”
Tim swallowed thickly. “Eight and a half months but I...we didn’t...she didn’t stay long.”
Alfred said nothing but nodded understandingly.
“I won’t...I won’t be able to patrol...at least till she...”
“I’ll inform Master Bruce that you are taking a leave of absence.” He rested a hand on Tim’s knee. “You do not have to be alone Master Timothy. One call and any of us can be with you.”
Tim nodded, clearly trying to pull himself together. “I’ll be fine. Mrs Mac will be collecting mother from the airport. She doesn’t like me to meet her, she feels it’s clingy.”
“I’m sure your mother loves you.” Alfred sighed, “As do we.”
“Thank you Alfred.” Tim smiled weakly before climbing out.
“Be safe Master Timothy.” Alfred said softly. “And call us if there is anything you need.”
With another weak smile, Tim headed for the house, dragging his feet.
***
Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. .
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this Dick,” Bruce started, not looking up from the screen he was working at, “But your pacing is extremely distracting.”
Dick growled and flopped down into his chair, dropping his canes with a clatter. “Three days Bruce! We haven’t heard from him in three days.”
“I’m sure he’s simply spending some quality time with his mother.” Bruce answered calmly but without conviction.
“What do we even know about this woman?” Dick pouted.
Bruce entered something into his computer and a file popped up on Dick’s screen. Dick clicked open what appeared to be a deep and thorough file on Janet Drake.
“How long have you had this?” Dick demanded, flicking through Bruce’s collated notes.
“I started compiling it the day we first encounter Tim.” Bruce muttered absently.
Dick’s forehead scrunched, “Granted my memories of that day are pretty hazy and mostly painful but I’m pretty sure you barely left my side.”
Bruce shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I need to distract myself while Leslie was with you.”
Dick flashed Bruce grateful smile before going back to the file, flicking through page after page of notes. “The more I read, the less I like this woman.” After her husband’s death, Janet Drake had turned his modest business into a small empire. Drake Industries had grown in leaps and bounds, mostly through the ruthlessness of its CEO. “She even made a play for a stake in Wayne Corp?”
“She tried.” Bruce muttered darkly.
“You don’t like her?”
“I don’t like the way she does business.”
“I don’t like the way she treats her only son.” Dick clicked over to Tim’s schooling records. “She just dumps him and runs doesn’t she?”
Bruce hummed disapprovingly.
“No wonder the poor kid’s so unused to being shown affection.” Dick pushed away from the monitor with an exasperated growl. “Should I go over there? I just...I know it’s a risk but I...I need to know he’s ok.”
Bruce sighed and closed down his own screen. They both knew the problem –no-one outside the manor or Hayly’s circus knew Dick Grayson, adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne was disabled. Whenever Dick was seen in public, it was in a slimline exo-suit and immaculately tailored Armani that hid everything. And Dick was by no means healed enough to strap on a street-suit yet.
Alfred appeared between them with a plate of sandwiches. “May I recommend ringing him, Master Dick?”
Dick pulled himself to his feet and planted a kiss on Alfred’s brow. “You! Are a genius!”
Alfred shrugged as Dick hurried towards the stairs with renewed vigour. “I thought it seemed like the most sensible answer.”
“Alfred my friend,” Bruce started, helping himself to a sandwich. “You are a bastion of common sense in a house of madness.”
Alfred gave him a tolerant little smile. “One tries sir, one tries.”
***
Tim heard the phone ring and slipped out on the landing to listen as Mrs Mac answered it. His mother had confiscated his cell-phone almost as soon as she arrived so he hovered in the shadows at the top of the stairs, hoping to stay out of sight.
His mother was in a fine form this evening and spent most of the dinner party pointing Tim’s many flaws out to her guests – his small size, his lack of growth, his unhealthy interest in photograph (which she seemed to think made him a peeking tom), his lack of girlfriend (“clearly takes after his father when it comes to the ladies”), his slipping grades (despite the straight As) and his general lack of personality. By the end of the night the inside of Tim’s cheek bled from bitting.
“Who is it Marcy?” Janet demanded, the scent of her black cigarettes curling up the stairs and making Tim stomach turn.
“One Dick Grayson ma’am. He says he’s a friend of Timothy’s.”
“Hang up Marcy; it’s clearly a hoax, a name like that. Besides,” she muttered imperiously, “Tim doesn’t have friends.”
Tim slipped silently back into his room, his eyes squeezed closed against the gathering tears.
***
Dick was nearly out of his head by the end of the week. “Bruce! We have to do something!”
“We are doing something.” Bruce assured, allowing Alfred to straighten his bowtie.
“And what exactly is that?” Dick demanded, “Dressing up in a monkey suit and acting like a Brucie is not going to help Tim.”
“On the contrary Master Dick.” Alfred placated. “Ms Drake has accepted Master Bruce’s invitation to this evening’s gala. Either she will bring Tim with her – in which case I will manufacture an excuse to usher him down to the library to speak with you, or she will leave him at home – in which case you may attempt to contact him via telephone again. Should Master Tim require assistance, you and I will drive to his house and intercede.”
Dick shook his head. “Alfred, when did you become such a brilliant strategist?”
Bruce raised a sardonic eyebrow. “You do realise Alfred’s a criminal mastermind don’t you Dick? He taught me everything I know.”
Alfred harrumphed. “I share my life with two of the greatest detectives of our age. Some of it was bound to rub off.” He looked Bruce over, content with his work. “You will be late Master Bruce, as usual.”
“I have a reputation to maintain after all.” Bruce reached out and squeezed Dick’s shoulder. “Let me know how you go. Let him know we’re thinking of him.”
“I will.” Dick smiled, “Good luck in the shark tank.”
Bruce rolled his eyes in a characteristic Brucie gesture. “Once more unto the beach dear friend.”
***
Dick prowled the library for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for Alfred’s message and nearly tripping over his sticks as the old servant pushed the door. “Did he come?”
“No. Nor can I reach him on the telephone. The home line is not answering and his cell-phone appears to be disconnected.” Alfred looked troubled. “I’m concerned for Master Tim.”
“Grab your keys Al!” Dick scooped up his sticks and hurried towards the door. “We’re going to Tim’s!”
***
There were no lights on at Tim’s house and no-one answered the door. The place was locked up tight.
Dick was on the phone before Alfred got back to the car. “He’s missing Bruce. It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
“Alright, alright.” Bruce soothed. “Come back to the Manor. We’ll come up with a plan from there.”
***
Bruce managed to caused a big enough stir to have scared off most of his guest but Janet Drake was still lingering, clearly enjoying the sight of her business rival drunk and sloppy.
“Ms Drake?” Alfred appeared at her elbow as Brucie casually spilt a drink down the front of some bimbo’s dress. “May I offer you a ride home?”
“No thanks Jeeves.” Janet muttered, smiling to herself as Bruce got slapped for trying to mop it up. “This is far too funny to watch.”
Alfred cleared his throat meaningfully. “Please, Ms Drake.” He glanced over at his dishevelled and disgraceful employer with a sad sigh. “I really must insist.”
Janet chuckled darkly. “You’re just lucky I don’t have a camera Jeeves.” She turned to Alfred with a dismissive sigh. “Very well, drive me home. The sooner you’ve dropped me off, the sooner you can rescue your idiot boy from a pool of his own vomit.”
Bruce watched as Alfred ushered Janet away and made short work of getting rid of the rest of his guests before meeting Dick in the cave.
Dick had the feed from almost every CCTV camera in Gotham up on his monitors. “I can’t find him B! I can’t...”
Bruce rested his hands on Dick’s shoulder. “It’s going to be ok Little Robin; we’ll find him.” He squeezed gently and started gearing up. “I’ll start at his house and work out from there.”
“What if Alfred and Janet make it there before-”
Bruce put a hand out to silence Dick as he pulled the cowl down over his face. “The BMW will get a flat tire half way there - just far enough out of town to have patchy cell phone reception and no chance of finding a cab. We have time.” He tapped his comm. testing the line. “I’ll stay in touch.”
Bruce took two steps towards the car before turning back and dipping to press a kiss to Dick’s brow. “I’ll find him Dick, I promise.”
***
Tim didn’t hear the grapnel land or the sound of his window being slipped open. He was lost in his thoughts, unaware of his surroundings and darkness of his room till a cool hand brushed over his shoulder. “Don’t...please...” He whispered, making no move to fight or protect himself.
“Tim?” Bruce called gently. “Are you alright?”
Tim seemed to shake himself, pulling away from Bruce’s touch. “I...I’m fine...I can’t...”
“Tim?” Bruce leant over and switched on the bedside lamp.
Tim shied away from the light, turning his face towards the wall.
“Tim?” Bruce pushed the cowl back carefully and shed his gloves. “Tim, look at me.”
“I can’t continue as Robin.” Tim said quietly, refusing to look at Bruce, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I’m sorry to have let you down.”
Bruce closed his hand over Tim’s shoulder and turned the youth, refusing to let Tim pull away. “Show me.” He ordered, his voice slipping into the Bat.
Silent sears tracked down Tim’s cheeks; the right side of his face was flame red and scratched, his eye swollen and blackening. He tried to pull away as Bruce examined the marked skin. “I...”
“Your mother did this?” Bruce asked, quiet and soft despite the rage swelling in his heart.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I told her I wanted to leave, wanted to move out on my own.” Tim swallowed, ducking his face away from the lamp and the heat of Bruce’s scrutiny. “She’s sending me to a military collage. In England.”
“Do you want to go?” Light flared in Tim’s eyes for the first time that night, giving Bruce all the answer he needed. “Then come home with me. We’ll start the emancipation paperwork in the morning.”
“She won’t let me go.” Tim’s eyes were once again flat with despair.
Bruce reached out and cupped Tim’s shoulders. “Then she’ll have a fight on her hands.” He pulled Tim into a hug, awkward against the armour. “The decision is yours but there will always be a place for you in the Manor.”
Tim sagged against him, his eyes slipping closed.
“Come home to me.” Bruce whispered with the quiet affection he usually reserved for Dick.
“Not yet.” Tim straightened up and pulled away. “There are things I need to do.” There was determination in his tone now, the surety of Robin.
“Then we’ll wait for you.” Bruce cupped his cheek for a fleeting moment before pulling down the cowl, climbing out the window and disappearing into the stormy night.
***
It was well past midnight when the intercom on the front gate buzzed. Dick screamed past Alfred and down the front stairs as fast as his sticks would allow, bowling Tim over in the process.
Tim’s ducked his face away as Dick hugged him, peppering his bruised cheek with kisses.
“So worried about you, little brother. So worried.” Dick whispered over and over, holding Tim tight to him. “So glad you’re home.”
“Master Dick.” Alfred admonished, picking up Tim’s fallen bag. “Might I suggest you and Master Tim move inside out of the rain?”
Dick hadn’t noticed till then that Tim was soaking wet, his bicycle propped against one of the columns. “We would have come and got you! All you had to do was ask.”
“This was something Tim had to do for himself.” Bruce called quietly from the top of the stairs. He strode down and reached to help the two boys up. His hand lingered for a moment, cupping Tim’s cheek. “Welcome home.”
***
Dick wandered into Bruce’s study around dawn, unsurprised the find Bruce still up.
“How is he?” Bruce asked, reaching up to cup the back of Dick’s head as the younger man draped himself over his shoulder.
“Sleeping.” Dick muttered, resting his chin on Bruce’s shoulder as he skimmed over the paperwork strewn over the desk. “Emancipation?”
“It’s the best I can do for him right now.” Bruce sighed heavily and leant back into Dick’s embrace.
“So we’re going after her with lawyers? Why not call Gordon and bring her up on neglect and child abuse? I mean Tim’s black eye is pretty damning.”
“It’d take months and a scandal like that would be all over the papers. I don’t want to put Tim through that.” Bruce let his tired eyes slip closed a second. “And I can’t go after her as Batman.”
“Why not? She’s broken the law.”
“I’d kill her, Dick.” Bruce looked up at his ward with earnest pain. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly since the day your parents died.”
Dick buried his face in Bruce’s neck and tightened his grip around his mentor’s shoulders.
“I disappoint you.” Bruce said quietly, stroking Dick’s hair.
“No.” Dick mumbled against his throat. “Just glad I’m not the only one thinking murderous thoughts about that witch.” He let Bruce guide him into his lap, his arms still laced around Bruce’s shoulders. “Just promise me we won’t let her hurt him again?”
“She’s up for one hell of a fight if she tries.”
Dick smiled turned into a yawn which he tried valiantly to smother against Bruce’s shirt.
“You should be resting.” Bruce chided, “Will you fight me if I carry you up to your room?”
“Most likely.” Dick yawned again. “Think Tim would object if I curled up in bed next to him?”
“I think it might be a bit early for that yet.” Bruce smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. “Besides, the poor boy needs sleep.”
“He can sleep though hugs.” Dick grumbled, not objecting as Bruce lifted him. “You managed it didn’t you?” But he was asleep before they reached his room.
***
Tim wandered down to the kitchen the next morning, strangely heartened to see a place was set for him at the breakfast table.
“Tea, Master Timothy?” Alfred asked, sliding pancakes onto a plate for him.
“Thank you Alfred.” Tim sat, still a little bewildered.
Bruce lowered his paper and reached out, squeezing Tim’s hand in a wordless gesture of reassurance.
He was home.
Author: Munnin
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Dick, Tim, Bruce and Alfred, Janet Drake
Disclaimer: No ownership, no profit and no offence meant. Everyone is of the age of consent in their country and period of history
Author’s notes: 100% organic. May contain minor flaws and imperfections that beta-treated slash wouldn’t.
Verse: Mended Wings.
Previous chapters: Mended Wings, Fly and Fall, Clipped, Corners and Turning Points, Only Son, Fever and Heroes.
Summary: How do the Batclan cope when Tim’s mother comes home? For
larsinger29 who put the idea in my head and ladyblkrose for nurturing it.Tim finished his patrol and headed back to the cave. Bruce had decided to loop back and double check the docks but he’d noticed how preoccupied Tim seemed and sent him home. It’d taken Tim the better part of a week to recover from his fever last time and has healthy as he felt, neither Bruce nor Dick would let him push himself too hard.
“You look tired little brother.” Dick called, not looking round as Tim slipped behind a screen to change.
“I’m fine.” Tim muttered, pulling on jeans and a tee-shirt.
“Skipping the shower tonight?” Dick turned, worried by Tim’s change of routine. Tim was usually yearned for a shower after patrol.
“I...I have to get home.” Tim muttered, hurrying to tie his sneakers.
“But you are home, Timmy.” Dick teased, trying to get a rise from the young man.
Tim ignored him and hurried to pack his stuff into a bag. “Alfred, do you mind driving me back?”
“Not at all, Master Timothy.” Alfred answered, placing a coffee next to Dick’s hand. “Is everything alright?”
“I’m fine. I’ve just got to get home.” Tim insisted, not look either of them in the eye.
“Tim?” Dick hauled himself up onto his sticks and caught Tim by the shoulder. “Tim, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing. I just...” Tim shook him off, “I need to get home.”
Dick lunged forward, determined to get answers but Alfred stepped in. “Master Tim, why don’t you go and collect some muffins from the kitchen and meet me in the garage.”
Tim nodded and ran for the stairs.
“Alfred!” Dick demanded, annoyed and worried. “What gives? Can’t you see something’s up with Tim?”
“I’m aware of that fact Master Dick.” Alfred soothed, steadying his young charge as Dick rocked back on his heels in frustration. “I’m also fairly certain I know what’s bothering him. Please, allow me to deal with this.”
Dick chewed his lip. “Promise you’ll tell me when you get back?”
“You have my word.” Alfred promised.
Dick caught his hand as he walked away. “Look after him? Please?”
Alfred paused to ruffle a hand through Dick’s hair. “It’s what I do.”
***
Tim sat silently at Alfred’s side for the drive home. Despite Alfred’s suggestions, he always felt weird about riding in the back when Alfred drove him anywhere.
As he pulled the car up, Alfred glanced over to the young man he’d come to think of has his youngest charge. “Master Timothy? Would you like me to drive you to the airport in the morning? I assume you’ll wish to meet your mother when her plane arrives.”
Tim jumped and pulled back. “How...how did you know?”
Alfred gave him a small sympathetic smile. “How long has it been since you last saw her?”
Tim swallowed thickly. “Eight and a half months but I...we didn’t...she didn’t stay long.”
Alfred said nothing but nodded understandingly.
“I won’t...I won’t be able to patrol...at least till she...”
“I’ll inform Master Bruce that you are taking a leave of absence.” He rested a hand on Tim’s knee. “You do not have to be alone Master Timothy. One call and any of us can be with you.”
Tim nodded, clearly trying to pull himself together. “I’ll be fine. Mrs Mac will be collecting mother from the airport. She doesn’t like me to meet her, she feels it’s clingy.”
“I’m sure your mother loves you.” Alfred sighed, “As do we.”
“Thank you Alfred.” Tim smiled weakly before climbing out.
“Be safe Master Timothy.” Alfred said softly. “And call us if there is anything you need.”
With another weak smile, Tim headed for the house, dragging his feet.
***
Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. Clack, clack. .
“I don’t know if you’re aware of this Dick,” Bruce started, not looking up from the screen he was working at, “But your pacing is extremely distracting.”
Dick growled and flopped down into his chair, dropping his canes with a clatter. “Three days Bruce! We haven’t heard from him in three days.”
“I’m sure he’s simply spending some quality time with his mother.” Bruce answered calmly but without conviction.
“What do we even know about this woman?” Dick pouted.
Bruce entered something into his computer and a file popped up on Dick’s screen. Dick clicked open what appeared to be a deep and thorough file on Janet Drake.
“How long have you had this?” Dick demanded, flicking through Bruce’s collated notes.
“I started compiling it the day we first encounter Tim.” Bruce muttered absently.
Dick’s forehead scrunched, “Granted my memories of that day are pretty hazy and mostly painful but I’m pretty sure you barely left my side.”
Bruce shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “I need to distract myself while Leslie was with you.”
Dick flashed Bruce grateful smile before going back to the file, flicking through page after page of notes. “The more I read, the less I like this woman.” After her husband’s death, Janet Drake had turned his modest business into a small empire. Drake Industries had grown in leaps and bounds, mostly through the ruthlessness of its CEO. “She even made a play for a stake in Wayne Corp?”
“She tried.” Bruce muttered darkly.
“You don’t like her?”
“I don’t like the way she does business.”
“I don’t like the way she treats her only son.” Dick clicked over to Tim’s schooling records. “She just dumps him and runs doesn’t she?”
Bruce hummed disapprovingly.
“No wonder the poor kid’s so unused to being shown affection.” Dick pushed away from the monitor with an exasperated growl. “Should I go over there? I just...I know it’s a risk but I...I need to know he’s ok.”
Bruce sighed and closed down his own screen. They both knew the problem –no-one outside the manor or Hayly’s circus knew Dick Grayson, adopted son of billionaire Bruce Wayne was disabled. Whenever Dick was seen in public, it was in a slimline exo-suit and immaculately tailored Armani that hid everything. And Dick was by no means healed enough to strap on a street-suit yet.
Alfred appeared between them with a plate of sandwiches. “May I recommend ringing him, Master Dick?”
Dick pulled himself to his feet and planted a kiss on Alfred’s brow. “You! Are a genius!”
Alfred shrugged as Dick hurried towards the stairs with renewed vigour. “I thought it seemed like the most sensible answer.”
“Alfred my friend,” Bruce started, helping himself to a sandwich. “You are a bastion of common sense in a house of madness.”
Alfred gave him a tolerant little smile. “One tries sir, one tries.”
***
Tim heard the phone ring and slipped out on the landing to listen as Mrs Mac answered it. His mother had confiscated his cell-phone almost as soon as she arrived so he hovered in the shadows at the top of the stairs, hoping to stay out of sight.
His mother was in a fine form this evening and spent most of the dinner party pointing Tim’s many flaws out to her guests – his small size, his lack of growth, his unhealthy interest in photograph (which she seemed to think made him a peeking tom), his lack of girlfriend (“clearly takes after his father when it comes to the ladies”), his slipping grades (despite the straight As) and his general lack of personality. By the end of the night the inside of Tim’s cheek bled from bitting.
“Who is it Marcy?” Janet demanded, the scent of her black cigarettes curling up the stairs and making Tim stomach turn.
“One Dick Grayson ma’am. He says he’s a friend of Timothy’s.”
“Hang up Marcy; it’s clearly a hoax, a name like that. Besides,” she muttered imperiously, “Tim doesn’t have friends.”
Tim slipped silently back into his room, his eyes squeezed closed against the gathering tears.
***
Dick was nearly out of his head by the end of the week. “Bruce! We have to do something!”
“We are doing something.” Bruce assured, allowing Alfred to straighten his bowtie.
“And what exactly is that?” Dick demanded, “Dressing up in a monkey suit and acting like a Brucie is not going to help Tim.”
“On the contrary Master Dick.” Alfred placated. “Ms Drake has accepted Master Bruce’s invitation to this evening’s gala. Either she will bring Tim with her – in which case I will manufacture an excuse to usher him down to the library to speak with you, or she will leave him at home – in which case you may attempt to contact him via telephone again. Should Master Tim require assistance, you and I will drive to his house and intercede.”
Dick shook his head. “Alfred, when did you become such a brilliant strategist?”
Bruce raised a sardonic eyebrow. “You do realise Alfred’s a criminal mastermind don’t you Dick? He taught me everything I know.”
Alfred harrumphed. “I share my life with two of the greatest detectives of our age. Some of it was bound to rub off.” He looked Bruce over, content with his work. “You will be late Master Bruce, as usual.”
“I have a reputation to maintain after all.” Bruce reached out and squeezed Dick’s shoulder. “Let me know how you go. Let him know we’re thinking of him.”
“I will.” Dick smiled, “Good luck in the shark tank.”
Bruce rolled his eyes in a characteristic Brucie gesture. “Once more unto the beach dear friend.”
***
Dick prowled the library for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for Alfred’s message and nearly tripping over his sticks as the old servant pushed the door. “Did he come?”
“No. Nor can I reach him on the telephone. The home line is not answering and his cell-phone appears to be disconnected.” Alfred looked troubled. “I’m concerned for Master Tim.”
“Grab your keys Al!” Dick scooped up his sticks and hurried towards the door. “We’re going to Tim’s!”
***
There were no lights on at Tim’s house and no-one answered the door. The place was locked up tight.
Dick was on the phone before Alfred got back to the car. “He’s missing Bruce. It doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
“Alright, alright.” Bruce soothed. “Come back to the Manor. We’ll come up with a plan from there.”
***
Bruce managed to caused a big enough stir to have scared off most of his guest but Janet Drake was still lingering, clearly enjoying the sight of her business rival drunk and sloppy.
“Ms Drake?” Alfred appeared at her elbow as Brucie casually spilt a drink down the front of some bimbo’s dress. “May I offer you a ride home?”
“No thanks Jeeves.” Janet muttered, smiling to herself as Bruce got slapped for trying to mop it up. “This is far too funny to watch.”
Alfred cleared his throat meaningfully. “Please, Ms Drake.” He glanced over at his dishevelled and disgraceful employer with a sad sigh. “I really must insist.”
Janet chuckled darkly. “You’re just lucky I don’t have a camera Jeeves.” She turned to Alfred with a dismissive sigh. “Very well, drive me home. The sooner you’ve dropped me off, the sooner you can rescue your idiot boy from a pool of his own vomit.”
Bruce watched as Alfred ushered Janet away and made short work of getting rid of the rest of his guests before meeting Dick in the cave.
Dick had the feed from almost every CCTV camera in Gotham up on his monitors. “I can’t find him B! I can’t...”
Bruce rested his hands on Dick’s shoulder. “It’s going to be ok Little Robin; we’ll find him.” He squeezed gently and started gearing up. “I’ll start at his house and work out from there.”
“What if Alfred and Janet make it there before-”
Bruce put a hand out to silence Dick as he pulled the cowl down over his face. “The BMW will get a flat tire half way there - just far enough out of town to have patchy cell phone reception and no chance of finding a cab. We have time.” He tapped his comm. testing the line. “I’ll stay in touch.”
Bruce took two steps towards the car before turning back and dipping to press a kiss to Dick’s brow. “I’ll find him Dick, I promise.”
***
Tim didn’t hear the grapnel land or the sound of his window being slipped open. He was lost in his thoughts, unaware of his surroundings and darkness of his room till a cool hand brushed over his shoulder. “Don’t...please...” He whispered, making no move to fight or protect himself.
“Tim?” Bruce called gently. “Are you alright?”
Tim seemed to shake himself, pulling away from Bruce’s touch. “I...I’m fine...I can’t...”
“Tim?” Bruce leant over and switched on the bedside lamp.
Tim shied away from the light, turning his face towards the wall.
“Tim?” Bruce pushed the cowl back carefully and shed his gloves. “Tim, look at me.”
“I can’t continue as Robin.” Tim said quietly, refusing to look at Bruce, his voice devoid of all emotion. “I’m sorry to have let you down.”
Bruce closed his hand over Tim’s shoulder and turned the youth, refusing to let Tim pull away. “Show me.” He ordered, his voice slipping into the Bat.
Silent sears tracked down Tim’s cheeks; the right side of his face was flame red and scratched, his eye swollen and blackening. He tried to pull away as Bruce examined the marked skin. “I...”
“Your mother did this?” Bruce asked, quiet and soft despite the rage swelling in his heart.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I told her I wanted to leave, wanted to move out on my own.” Tim swallowed, ducking his face away from the lamp and the heat of Bruce’s scrutiny. “She’s sending me to a military collage. In England.”
“Do you want to go?” Light flared in Tim’s eyes for the first time that night, giving Bruce all the answer he needed. “Then come home with me. We’ll start the emancipation paperwork in the morning.”
“She won’t let me go.” Tim’s eyes were once again flat with despair.
Bruce reached out and cupped Tim’s shoulders. “Then she’ll have a fight on her hands.” He pulled Tim into a hug, awkward against the armour. “The decision is yours but there will always be a place for you in the Manor.”
Tim sagged against him, his eyes slipping closed.
“Come home to me.” Bruce whispered with the quiet affection he usually reserved for Dick.
“Not yet.” Tim straightened up and pulled away. “There are things I need to do.” There was determination in his tone now, the surety of Robin.
“Then we’ll wait for you.” Bruce cupped his cheek for a fleeting moment before pulling down the cowl, climbing out the window and disappearing into the stormy night.
***
It was well past midnight when the intercom on the front gate buzzed. Dick screamed past Alfred and down the front stairs as fast as his sticks would allow, bowling Tim over in the process.
Tim’s ducked his face away as Dick hugged him, peppering his bruised cheek with kisses.
“So worried about you, little brother. So worried.” Dick whispered over and over, holding Tim tight to him. “So glad you’re home.”
“Master Dick.” Alfred admonished, picking up Tim’s fallen bag. “Might I suggest you and Master Tim move inside out of the rain?”
Dick hadn’t noticed till then that Tim was soaking wet, his bicycle propped against one of the columns. “We would have come and got you! All you had to do was ask.”
“This was something Tim had to do for himself.” Bruce called quietly from the top of the stairs. He strode down and reached to help the two boys up. His hand lingered for a moment, cupping Tim’s cheek. “Welcome home.”
***
Dick wandered into Bruce’s study around dawn, unsurprised the find Bruce still up.
“How is he?” Bruce asked, reaching up to cup the back of Dick’s head as the younger man draped himself over his shoulder.
“Sleeping.” Dick muttered, resting his chin on Bruce’s shoulder as he skimmed over the paperwork strewn over the desk. “Emancipation?”
“It’s the best I can do for him right now.” Bruce sighed heavily and leant back into Dick’s embrace.
“So we’re going after her with lawyers? Why not call Gordon and bring her up on neglect and child abuse? I mean Tim’s black eye is pretty damning.”
“It’d take months and a scandal like that would be all over the papers. I don’t want to put Tim through that.” Bruce let his tired eyes slip closed a second. “And I can’t go after her as Batman.”
“Why not? She’s broken the law.”
“I’d kill her, Dick.” Bruce looked up at his ward with earnest pain. “I’ve never wanted to hurt someone so badly since the day your parents died.”
Dick buried his face in Bruce’s neck and tightened his grip around his mentor’s shoulders.
“I disappoint you.” Bruce said quietly, stroking Dick’s hair.
“No.” Dick mumbled against his throat. “Just glad I’m not the only one thinking murderous thoughts about that witch.” He let Bruce guide him into his lap, his arms still laced around Bruce’s shoulders. “Just promise me we won’t let her hurt him again?”
“She’s up for one hell of a fight if she tries.”
Dick smiled turned into a yawn which he tried valiantly to smother against Bruce’s shirt.
“You should be resting.” Bruce chided, “Will you fight me if I carry you up to your room?”
“Most likely.” Dick yawned again. “Think Tim would object if I curled up in bed next to him?”
“I think it might be a bit early for that yet.” Bruce smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of Dick’s head. “Besides, the poor boy needs sleep.”
“He can sleep though hugs.” Dick grumbled, not objecting as Bruce lifted him. “You managed it didn’t you?” But he was asleep before they reached his room.
***
Tim wandered down to the kitchen the next morning, strangely heartened to see a place was set for him at the breakfast table.
“Tea, Master Timothy?” Alfred asked, sliding pancakes onto a plate for him.
“Thank you Alfred.” Tim sat, still a little bewildered.
Bruce lowered his paper and reached out, squeezing Tim’s hand in a wordless gesture of reassurance.
He was home.
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Date: 2010-08-27 10:49 pm (UTC)Thank you so much. I'm really glad you're enjoying this verse.