Chapter Text
Tim was sitting in the interrogation room of Gotham City Police. His hands had handcuffs on them, the chain was long and attached to the floor. The light above him was gritty and dull.
His hair was greasy and his clothes weren't his own, they were some police clothing he'd been given, since his clothes previously counted as evidence.
He thought he'd planned everything perfectly, he shouldn't have gotten caught. He wouldn't have gotten caught if—
The door Tim had been intensely staring at opened and Richard John Grayson walked in, Tim knew from all his public appearances as the adopted son of Bruce Wayne. And Dick also happened to be a police officer.
Grayson sat down in front of Tim, he was holding a yellow case folder with evidence. “Timothy—”
“Tim.” Tim corrected immediately, he hated being called by his full name.
“Tim, I'm Richard John Grayson, but you probably know me as Dick Grayson, I'm the police officer who's been assigned to investigate your case of— killing your own parents” he said, and made eye contact with the 15 year old teenager who was glaring daggers at him.
Tim stayed silent ‘Don't talk with cops unless you have a lawyer’ Janet's voice rang in his head, he hated that it was still there even after he killed her.
Dick didn't seem undeterred by the lack of response “I wanna hear your side of the story. Sure it may look crystal clear, but every story has three sides, in this case — yours, your parents and the truth.”
Tim stayed silent, he focused his gaze on following Dick's eyebrows, it was close enough to make it seem like eye contact, but not direct eye contact. ‘Just keep quiet, the lawyer can deal with everything, you should have more than enough money to get through this’ he reminded himself.
Dick chuckled a bit and opened the yellow folder. “You can afford a good lawyer with your parents money, unfortunately, due to a new law, even if you are deemed not guilty, you won't be getting access to that money till 18”
Tim cursed in his mind, his gaze still on Dick's eyebrows, ‘don't play into his hand, act unbothered’
Grayson decided to play a new tactic. “I was investigating your room, you seem like a smart kid, good at photography, top of your classes, in a chess club, in multiple sports clubs.”
‘Because they forced me’ he thought to himself. He had to stay silent.
“You must understand that you'd be sent to juvenile jail, or Arkham Asylum in the worst case” Dick said.
“They wouldn't send me to Arkham asylum. I'd be deemed sane enough”
“Confident” Grayson chuckled and pushed pictures of Tim's room over to Tim. He poked them in some spots, showing Tim his own familiar wall of pictures, his red string all over there. He also pointed at the medicine cabinet that Tim had ransacked and used to make a very effective mix of drugs to knock his parents out. “you'd be deemed obsessive.”
“I was curious” Tim mumbled, he was starting to crumble, he couldn't let himself slip more.
“Curious? This is stalking Tim, breaking and entering too. You were stalking Gotham's most famous families, mine included. I'm impressed by your ability to do that, but woah kid, that's fucked up”
Tim bit his own tongue, he couldn't reveal that he knew the Wayne's were secretly the largest Mafia family in Gotham. He couldn't reveal that he knew they ran and practically owned the underworld. He couldn't reveal that he knew Bruce started a Mafia at 25 years old and then smoothly took over Gotham's crime scene. Crime rates had drastically gone down since Bruce had done that. There was still of course crime, but it had gone down by half, at least.
Grayson pulled the pictures back and hummed slightly “Stalking, breaking and entering, illegal gun owning—”
“It was Jack's gun”
“Breaking and entering, stalking and murder. Still doesn't look too shiny for you” Dick said calmly.
Tim stayed silent. He was already plotting how to survive juvenile jail. He'd probably make it out alive, but he had to be prepared for the worst.
Grayson sighed a bit “Work with me kid, I could get the juve time lessened for you, if you talk. Why did you kill your own parents?”
“I plead innocent” Tim said and crossed his own arms, glad the handcuffs and chain let him do that.
“After we found you at the crime scene with their blood on your clothes? Not gonna work unless you explain the logistics of that one”
Tim gritted his own teeth before he asked “Can I look at what evidence you have?”
Dick pushed the yellow folder with everything over to Tim, who carefully began flipping through everything and looking over it. He quickly noticed the lack of his parents' crimes included, all that evidence was truly one side of the story — his parents' side.
Tim looked over at Dick and they locked eyes.
“I see you noticed it only has your parents' side,” Grayson said.
“You couldn't find a single trace of their wrongdoing?” Tim asked with a hiss, fuck it, if he's going to juve he'll go after he's exposed his parents crimes too.
“As I said, every story has three sides. We have your parents' side, now we just need yours and the truth.”
Tim paused, he wanted to say everything but then Janet's voice rang in his head again ‘as if they'd believe you, what we did wasn't even abuse. You're exaggerating.’ Tim gazed at the floor “You wouldn't believe me. Your job is to get someone in jail, not get the truth, Gotham's police is always like that”
Grayson sighed, as if he knew that's what Tim would say “I knew you're a smart kid” he said, he pulled out a Blüdhaven police badge. “I'm here on official orders as an outsider to investigate fairly, give you a chance to show and tell your side.”
Tim blinked a bit, staring at the police badge. He then made eye contact with Dick again.
“I know at 10 years old you tried to report your parents for reckless child abandonment. But nobody believed you. I also know you begged nurses in Gotham hospital multiple times to report your parents to CPS or police, but your parents paid them out.” Dick leaned back in his chair. “So, tell me everything, here on cameras, I'll listen, and if necessary we can go out to the crime scene and you can show me more evidence police missed”
Tim was given a chance to speak, for the first time in a long time, yet no matter how much he wanted to take this opportunity, it felt too late, too little. He was going to juve either way, he'll at least go with his dignity intact, nobody will have to know that rich kid Timothy Jackson Drake was neglected and abused. And the Drake name as a whole won't be stained, only his own — he wanted to sully the name as a whole, but he couldn't bring himself to… even with Janet's forever tormenting voice in his head.
Grayson sighed a bit “You can think about it. I have a month to close this investigation.” He got up and collected the yellow folder with evidence before leaving the interrogation room.
Tim watched the door shut, and he stayed still, he was aware that he was probably being watched through the one sided mirror.
He pulled his own legs onto the chair, as much as he could, he wanted to curl up and just stop existing or be put behind bars already.
After — what Tim guessed to be 10 minutes — a police officer walked in, cuffed Tim into normal handcuffs before unlocking the ones keeping Tim chained to the floor before guiding him to the jail cell.
There was one other guy in the cell, Tim assumed him to be a police informant, so he automatically kept his mouth shut, he even ignored when the man tried talking to him.
Tim was just starting to zone out, the reality around him felt quieter with every second. There was a distant fuzziness in all his limbs, even a static sound filling his ears.
At 7 pm he was given dinner. Tim barely registered how the police officer giving him food looked — actually he didn't register their face at all. He stared at the food. Somewhere distantly he could hear his parents snickering and glaring at him, ordering him to eat the food they tainted with shrimp — the one food he was allergic to.
Tim simply placed the bowl on the jail bed and refused to eat. He leaned against the wall, it was cold, but even that didn't feel grounding. The fuzziness in his limbs had turned to slight numbness. The static had only gotten louder overtime but he didn't actually mind that, it was drowning out the sound of his parents' voices, as well as his own thoughts. He couldn't overthink anything if his brain was filled with static.
Time passed, and it passed quickly. If Tim had just been served dinner, then it was 12 hours later and he was being served breakfast now. He half processed as the previous bowl of untouched was taken and he was handed a new bowl of food. He couldn't even tell if the bowl was cold or hot to the touch, his hands had gone fully numb a long time ago. His vision progressively started to feel more and more like a movie screen. Like he was stuck in a shell, just watching everything.
He blinked, time passed again and he was being walked to the interrogation room. He blinked again and he was sitting in the room, blankly staring at the table. He blinked, and he suddenly felt something very cold touch the back of his neck.
He flinched, letting out an involuntary screech, attempting to go grab whatever had touched his neck only for his hands to be stopped by the handcuffs and the chain.
He took a few deep breaths as the reality hit him full force. He blinked multiple times. His head was spinning a bit, he felt tired, his limbs felt weak.
He looked around and noticed Dick was standing behind him with an ice pack in his hands.
Grayson raised his arms and held them up — placating gesture. He then walked back to the other side of the table and sat down in front of Tim. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
Tim blinked a bit more and looked at him “currently? Cold.” he hissed slightly.
Dick chuckled a bit “Sorry about that, I had tried to get your attention in other ways but it wasn't working. You were dissociating very heavily. Has this happened before?”
Tim shrugged a bit “I don't remember” he said simply.
Grayson placed the pack of ice down on the table and opened some files “I've heard you haven't eaten”
Tim rolled his eyes a bit and crossed his arms, getting defensive “Not on purpose. The food just looks disgusting” he said, quickly making something up.
Dick raised his eyebrow “I know first hand jail food isn't that great, but it's not that bad, Tim. Do you even remember what you were served?”
“Do you think I have a golden memory or something?” Tim hissed.
“Timothy Jackson, how many pictures were found in your room?” Dick asked.
“327, your report yesterday mentioned it” Tim answered on instinct — having been trained to respond automatically whenever his first name and middle name is said. He then paused and cussed as he glared at Dick. He didn't know how Dick found out about that trained response but he couldn't believe it would be used against him like that. But he also was starting to realize that Dick wasn't abusing the trained response — when trying to get the answers out of Tim.
Grayson chuckled a bit “so what was yesterday for dinner?”
Tim remained quiet.
“You were dissociating since yesterday, you didn't have anything to ground yourself with?”
He refused to answer, he couldn't give Dick anything to work with. He could've grounded himself, he just had no reason to, he didn't trust the food given to him.
Grayson sighed a bit “How about, you eat something and then I'll take you to Drake Manor, you can show me anything, I'll listen to you fully”
“And if I refuse?” Tim asked and leaned back in the chair more, letting himself slightly balance on the back legs of the chair.
“Then I'll have to order IV feeding for you. And I've read your medical reports you—”
Tim slightly kicked the interrogation table, he wasn't shocked to find it bolted down onto the floor, but he still managed to shock Dick so he took that as a win.
Dick raised his hands again, making a placating gesture again. He met eyes with Tim “What's making you so nervous about this place?”
Tim didn't respond, he could tell Dick was trying to read him.
“The food? Do you have any allergies not listed in your medical files?”
Tim slightly shook his head “The files have been up to date since I was 14.”
Grayson slowly lowered his hands, keeping them on the table. “Do you have food insecurities?”
Tim realized he'd been backed into a corner, he could either say no and be offered food, or he could say yes and be questioned more until he fully spills everything, and it didn't seem like not answering was an option. He'd have to tell sooner or later.
He was partly considering starting crying and faking a panic attack to be left alone, however Dick was looking at him so intensely Tim suspected the man would know if Tim faked it.
He could attempt to blackmail Dick, since Tim knows Dick is in the mafia working along with Bruce. But he suspected he'd end up dead if he tried that. Then again, that wouldn't be so bad, he wouldn't have to be in juve.
He placed his own hands on the table. He knew there were two cameras, from looks he could tell they didn't have microphones, both would clearly be able to see his hands, so he started tapping on the table with morse code, but with one difference — one hand actually tapped the table, the other was pretending to tap something completely else, and he switched the hands that tapped on the table after every word. He also knew the secret recording device under the table wouldn't pick out the faint tapping especially if Tim occasionally purposely kicked the chains to make noise.
He carefully tapped out a message:
.. / -.- -. --- .-- / -.-- --- ..- .-. / .- -. -.. / .-- .- -.-- -. . ... / ... . -.-. .-. . -
He kept eye contact with Dick the entire time he did that. Tim knew Grayson understood by the slight glint in his eyes.
“I don't understand what you mean, Tim.” Dick said, acting nonchalant now, but he fully understood.
Tim leaned back in the chair now, going to balance on the back legs again “You know what I mean”
Grayson sighed a bit, “I just need you to cooperate with me.” He said, as he was saying that Tim noticed Grayson was handing him something under the table.
Tim went to kick the table again, Dick dropped the note on the floor and Tim smoothly placed his foot on it dragging it close “I'm not cooperating with a cop. Just put me in juve, it would be easier for you” he hissed, a teenager lashing out wouldn't be out of place.
Grayson sighed a bit “I'll go keep investigating on my own then. Just remember, I'm willing to hear your side out, it's my job” he left the interrogation room with that.
Tim could've just waited to be guided back to his cell, but he had to sell the act of an angsty teenager who was just ready to be thrown into juve and he had to pick up that note. He kicked the table more before getting up and kicking the chair aggressively away. He breathed heavily, pretending to be angry before simply sitting down on the floor. He discreetly slid the note into his own shoe, because who'd look there?
After 10 minutes two police officers walked in to take Tim back to his cell, if previously he was considered non threatening and cooperative his little outburst and act made him seem more non cooperative.
Tim was soon enough back in the jail cell. He sat down on the bed, turning away from the camera, just sitting. He waited a couple of minutes before slowly pulling up the note from his shoe and starting to read it. It was written in French, how did Dick know Tim understood French?
He slowly read the note ‘I don't care if you know I'm in the mafia, and I don't care if you're trying to blackmail.’ Tim stopped reading as he realized Dick had predicted this would happen, he had the note prepared in advance. He felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach before he mentally slapped himself and kept reading. ‘However, I need you to cooperate with me. Your parents were involved with the mafias too. Not Waynes, but other mafias, and we want to protect you, and bring you into our business. We've seen your wonderful mind at work. You'll be a part of the Waynes and the Mafia, if you want, just cooperate, slowly.’
Tim almost couldn't believe what he had just read. The Waynes wanted him, what did that mean? He hated that his natural curiosity was activating and wanting to find out more. He tried his best to keep thinking but he was too tired and his body most involuntarily fell asleep.
×
The next day came quickly, Tim was given breakfast again, he still refused to eat it. He didn't trust the cops not to poison his food with something. An hour after breakfast he was dragged to the interrogation room, chained to the floor — practically the usual.
Dick came in soon enough. He placed an unopened water bottle in front of Tim and sat down in front of him “I heard you're still not eating, or drinking”
Tim hesitated a bit and slowly grabbed the bottle of water, he really did want to drink something. “Why does it matter?”
“By law we're obligated to make sure you're eating, and since we arrested you 48 hours ago, probably more, you haven't eaten anything.”
Tim opened the water bottle, hearing the sound of an untouched bottle cap opening did put him at ease a bit. He looked at the chain and handcuffs for a moment but soon enough took some sips of the water, not wanting to seem too thirsty.
Grayson hummed a bit “Maybe if you tell me what's the issue I can get you something?”
Tim looked away, he avoided eye contact briefly as he considered his actions. He soon gazed back at Dick “Are you really willing to listen to my side?”
He nodded a bit and relaxed a bit, leaning back in his chair showing to Tim that he's open for listening.
“Even if it sounds unbelievable and there's very little evidence?”
Grayson nodded a bit “Teenagers, especially sane ones, don't usually kill their parents without a reason. And your cognitive abilities are pretty good as far as I know”
Tim was hesitating. He still wasn't sure if he should trust Dick but he slowly sighed, he didn't have much of a choice. “My parents were neglectful-” he started “They'd go on trips to archeological sites for months on end. I had a nanny but she'd come only biweekly”
Dick looked a bit concerned “how old were you?”
Tim blinked a bit “When they started leaving? I was around 6—. They would be at home for a maximum of 16 days per year. When I was 10—” he paused.
Grayson hummed slightly, deciding to fill in the details “You went to the police to report your parents being neglectful, but nobody believed you?”
Tim nodded a bit “I was extremely good at taking care of myself- so outwardly I looked fine, and they just assumed me to be a spoiled brat…” he stayed quiet, expecting Dick to call him some sort of insult or something, but as he looked over all he noticed was a man with more patience than life itself.
Dick carefully looked at some files “At around 10 years old you started ending up in the hospital a lot from anaphylactic shock”
Tim slowly nodded. “Jack and Janet found out that I had tried to report them to the police.. So when they found out I was allergic to shrimp they would lace all my food with it. Anything in the house was laced with it, I wasn't given money to buy myself anything. And even when I sold pictures earning money for myself I couldn't always feed myself.”
Grayson looked a bit shocked and his expression quickly changed to sympathetic.
Tim paused a bit “that about covers my food insecurities” he mumbled.
Dick quickly recovered from that gut punch and sighed a bit “we have evidence that your house except for your room and the kitchen was practically unlived in for years, and we have evidence you often went to the hospital pleading for someone to call CPS or police and nobody did anything. Is there more?”
Tim shook his head. He chose not to mention the parts where once he turned 14 Jack started demanding that Tim pay rent for his own room, in a house where nobody else lived in. And even the best drama and best pictures in the world couldn't pay for that — he had to resort to… well he had a nice body, is there more anyone needs to say?
Grayson sighed a bit “Alright, how about I put normal handcuffs on you, and you behave as we'll walk to a store and then go investigate Drake Manor again? You'll explain everything, especially how you killed your parents. Do we have a deal?”
Tim slowly nodded “Pinky promise.”
Dick smiled a bit. He got up, walking over to Tim. He put the normal handcuffs on him “Behaving also means not running away. Just so we're clear”
Tim nodded a bit and soon stood up. He still held the water bottle, he was given it and now it's his.
Dick carefully began leading Tim out of the interrogation room and then out of the police station. Tim complied.
They entered a local gas station and Dick looked at Tim to choose some food. Soon enough they were sitting on a bench outside of the gas station and Tim was eating some pre-packaged sandwiches.
Dick looked at Tim “Bruce knew that you knew we're a mafia family and he also predicted that you'd try blackmailing us” he said suddenly.
Tim simply kept eating “Did he also predict me saying that you can fuck off?”
Grayson laughed a bit “I wish he could predict that.”
Tim finished eating the sandwiches and then asked “What do you guys meant in the note? ‘Seen your wonderful mind at work.’ What does that mean?”
Dick chuckled a bit “I was getting to it. The way you planned your parents murder, it was intricate. Extremely so, your only downfall was not predicting that your nanny would come by that day. Bruce believes you could be a force to be reckoned with if you're trained a bit.”
Tim blinked a bit “I simply cancelled their plane tickets in advance by hacking into their bank and email accounts. Then I waited until they were stuck in the house with me. Then I have them brownies laced with a mix of medication I was sure would knock them out”
“Don't forget the part where you burned their fingers and ripped out their fingernails to make it seem like the mafia had gotten to them instead of you.”
Tim hummed a bit “the trickiest part was finding the perfect knife to slice their throats with. A butcher's knife is too obvious, a pocket knife too simple. A bone knife seems like a good choice but I didn't like holding it”
Dick hummed a bit “You killed them by strangulation, and then cut their throats open”
Tim blinked a bit “I thought I covered that up”
“You almost did, it was genius to pour their own blood into their lungs to cover up the fact they were strangled” Dick said calmly “Your mistake there was that the rope burns on their hands weren't deep enough to suggest they were tied down and struggling for air. You strangled them while they were untied. Also there was no sign of them coughing up blood. Crime scene was too clean to cover up strangulation.”
Tim blinked a bit, that made sense.
“What did you do with their fingernails? We never found them”
Tim paused a bit “Will Bruce really let me join the mafia?” He asked.
Dick nodded a bit “I can get him to come tomorrow to the police station, he will get legal custody of you and then try to get you a self defense charge.”
He couldn't help but laugh a bit. “What I did doesn't count as self defense”
“unless we can get evidence of them repeatedly lacing your food, isolating you, abandoning you, neglecting you and all that” Dick explained.
Tim was silent for a moment, he fidgeted with the handcuffs, he could probably get them off if he tried a bit more, but he wasn't trying to do that.
“If you're feeling unsure I'm sure I can get Bruce to try and keep this case out of the public as much as possible” Dick said “Also you never answered, what did you do with their fingernails?”
Tim sighed a bit “take me to the Drake Manor, I'll show you” he said calmly.
Dick nodded and got up, beginning to walk. Tim followed him, he was behaving himself, because he knew that even if he somehow magically managed to kill Dick there would be Jason, Damian, Cassandra, and most importantly Bruce on his tail. Tim was smart, but not smart enough to escape a grieving and vengeful Mafia boss like Bruce.
And Bruce believed Tim could become a force to be reckoned with? Like sure he was smart, and could quickly think on his feet, but he wasn't nearly as smart as Bruce.
Dick walked over to the crime scene, it was enough for him to flash his police badge for everyone to back away — an outsider investigating must be a big deal.
Dick opened the front door and looked over at Tim “after you”
Tim rolled his eyes slightly and entered Drake Manor. He never wanted to call that place home. It was more of a museum where Tim was forced to live.
He walked in and looked around, they had placed those yellow number thingies in places that didn't even need them.
Dick followed Tim “Show me everything you think is necessary.”
Tim nodded a bit, there was a slight numbness deep in him, and even with the house being quiet there was static in his ears starting to quiet it down even more.
He slowly led Dick through the living room, making sure to point out every artifact his parents got in fraudulent ways.
He entered the kitchen, it was already beyond ransacked. He wasn't sure if there was anything worth showing Dick. However he did feel more numbness set within him.
He slowly walked to his own room. He was starting to realize that always when he was in Drake Manor he felt empty, numb and like the world outside was a lot quicker.
He entered the room, it had no door, it was removed after Tim accidentally slammed it shut on one of the days Janet and Jack were home.
He slightly looked around, he realized that the police hadn't found everything there. He carefully crouched down, to Dick's utter confusion. He lifted a corner of the rug and carefully showed Dick hundreds of more pictures. Most were pictures he'd taken during his nightly outings of stalking rich people, and some happened to be mafia meetings.
Dick said something but Tim didn't register it. He simply walked out of the room, walking to his parents room. He opened the door and after a bit he pulled out hidden documents and evidence from under the mattress and dropped it on the bed.
Tim just stood in his parents bedroom and waited for Dick. He stared at the floor, avoiding looking at the plain white walls with no photos or paintings. That room made him remember how little Jack and Janet were home, even hotels had more pictures in the bedroom.
After a bit Tim felt a weight on his shoulder, he looked over and Dick was standing close to him, looking at him in concern “Are you feeling alright, Tim?” he asked
Tim blinked a bit before responding “numb”
“You feel numb?”
He nodded a bit.
“Let's head back to the police station then” Dick said. He began leading Tim out of the house. His hand was gently resting on the teen's shoulder.
They left the house and began walking back to the police station. The further Tim walked from the house the more he started to feel the touch of Dick's hand around him, until he gently pushed off the older man's hand. “I can follow you by myself,” he said simply.
Grayson didn't respond other than a small hum. He walked Tim back to the police station and then back to his jail cell.
Tim property stretched the second the handcuffs were finally off his hands, his wrists felt a bit sore, but it wasn't bothersome enough to stay on his mind for long. He was more worried about meeting Bruce. He'd seen the man — even stalked him before — but he'd never had a one on one conversation with him before.
He eventually managed to relax and fall asleep in spite of his nerves.
×
Tim was sitting in the interrogation room again. He was boredly fidgeting with his own nails and the handcuff chain. He could tell he was being observed more than usual. He felt slightly uneasy, and there was a familiar sound of Janet speaking in his brain ‘Of course they're looking at you, you're a dirty murderer’ and even when he blocked it out he always knew exactly what she'd say about him. Janet had always been so predictable for Tim. She had only a couple of tactics and 66% of them involved insulting or figuratively going for someone's throat.
The door began to open and Tim's eyes snapped to it. A woman, well dressed, with a visitor badge around her neck entered. She looked like a doctor, so Tim assumed her to be a child and teen psychologist. After her, Bruce Wayne walked in.
Tim almost couldn't believe his eyes, it would've been less unbelievable if Dick hadn't said that he could get Bruce to come.
The woman looked at Bruce Wayne and spoke “I can introduce you—”
He cut her off with a nice rich people laugh “I have four kids, I know how to talk with teenagers,” he said politely before turning all his attention over to Tim.
And Tim, despite knowing the man is a boss of the largest mafia in Gotham couldn't help but feel slightly safe.
“I don't want to hurt you Tim,” Bruce started. “I understand you have some issues, both legally and otherwise, but I'm still willing to adopt you, and go through everything with you”
Tim blinked a bit, Bruce sounded so genuine. He was actually a bit stunned by that. “Wouldn't that be a conflict of interest considering Dick, your son is investigating my case?”
The woman cleared her throat a bit “the case is no longer being investigated, there will only be an upcoming trial for you. Where court will decide if you're guilty or innocent”
Tim blinked a bit, he thought it would be an open and shut case, especially since Tim was found on the crime scene with his parents blood on his clothes and hands.
Bruce smiled slightly “If you agree to be taken in by me, you'll be placed on house arrest and will only be allowed to leave for court, and my legal team will try getting a self defense ruling for you or the smallest minimal juvenile jail sentence”
The psychologist pushed some papers over to Tim “This is the approval from Commissioner Gordon for Bruce to do this”
Tim slowly picked up the papers and began reading through them, they all seemed real and gotten through legal means. He slowly looked at the woman and then at Bruce.
Bruce was still smiling a bit “So what do you say, Tim?”
Tim paused a bit “What would happen if I didn't agree? Theoretically.”
The woman said “You'd go through court, but you'd have to stay in jail the entire time, and you'd get a public defense attorney.”
Tim slowly nodded, it didn't sound like much of a choice, it was obvious that taking Bruce's deal was a hundred times better. “I'll go with you Mr. Wayne”
“Please, call me Bruce” he said calmly and looked over at the woman “You can explain the rest of the situation while I go deal with the rest of the papers.” He got up and left the interrogation room.
Tim looked at the woman, her guest badge read ‘Anna, CPS worker’.
“I've read some of your files, the ones I was allowed to at least” she said calmly “And your home life situation has been mishandled completely and you shouldn't have been in a position where your only escape was murdering your parents”
Tim was stunned, for years — before finding out his parents paid people off — he believed he was exaggerating, that his home situation wasn't that bad because CPS never visited.
“So to make sure, that your rights and new home life isn't as bad as your previous, I'll be visiting once a week while you'll be staying with the Wayne's. For as long as your case isn't settled. And once it's settled, I'll visit once a month until visits will no longer be necessary” Anna explained calmly.
Tim slowly nodded, all of this felt a little bit unreal. A week ago he felt he had nothing, he'd been planning his parents murder and an escape plan to move to Spain for over half a year. But now he was sitting in a police station interrogation room and waiting as Bruce Wayne signed adoption papers for Tim.
‘He'll just dispose of you soon,’ Janet's voice told him. He felt on edge now, because he knew it was just his brain playing tricks on him, but it still hurt to know that it could be true.
There was the static in his ears again. He tried to focus on the table and ground himself, but he was focusing so hard the rest of the world around him was starting to blur a bit — except for that one spot on the table. His brain didn't even process much more than that.
Suddenly all he could see was a hand come into his view, and it was rising, for a couple of seconds everything around him was in slow motion.
And then suddenly everything was speeding up again. He suddenly flinched away from the hand, he didn't care who it was, he didn't like it being close.
He didn't feel the impact of the floor, he tried to back away into a corner, but he couldn't get too far away until his hands were back, and no matter how much he tried he couldn't get far enough to get to a corner.
He wanted to scream and cry but the sound of Janet's voice in his head just made the static louder.
All he could hear was the static and his own heartbeat. He quickly pulled his own knees close and covered his ears as he shut his eyes and just tried to ignore everything, at least until his brain started working again.
He didn't know when but eventually everything stopped feeling so dangerous and he slowly opened his own eyes and just went to hug his own knees.
He felt a gentle, cold touch on his forearm. He carefully looked over and someone was sitting next to him. He didn't recognize them yet but they were giving him a glass of water and he slowly took it.
He took a sip of it and just sat in silence with the stranger. He closed his own eyes after a bit. The silence lasted for a moment longer before the stranger asked him “Can you tell me what day it is?”
“Friday, I believe-”
“What month?”
“March” he said and opened his eyes, he could partly recognize that voice, but he didn't dare to look over yet.
“How about name 5 things you can feel?”
Tim paused for a moment “Glass, clothes, floor— handcuffs… does eyes count? Cuz’ I feel many gazes on me, Dick” he said, the last part practically slipped out of him. He'd only just consciously finished processing the fact Dick was sitting next to him.
Grayson chuckled a bit “Sure, we can count it Tim. Do you wanna continue this exercise or just head to Wayne Manor?”
Tim stayed silent for a moment before mumbling “I'm sorry-”
“Hm? What are you apologizing for?”
“Freaking out,” he muttered.
Dick sighed softly “You don't have to apologize for it. It happens to the best of us.” He said.
Tim looked over and saw the older man smiling “Let's head to your new home, alright?”
He nodded a bit and waited for Dick to remove the handcuffs from his hands and instead put on an ankle monitor on him.
“Just follow me, I'll explain everything in more detail one we're at the manor”
They both got up from the floor and Tim slowly began following him. It felt weird being able to walk around without handcuffs.
×
At the manor Tim sat down on the couch and Dick put the ankle monitor on Tim before starting to explain “There's red tape on the floor, you can only stay in the manor within the red tape square. Step outside, I'll get a notification, if I can't find you within 20 minutes, I'll have to call for backup. The monitor needs to be charged every 3 days, try not to forget”
Tim nodded a bit “it seemed like I wasn't the first one on house arrest here” he said simply.
Dick chuckled “welcome to the club. I was also held here for attempted murder. Jason was held for breaking and entering and stealing. And Damian was held for attempted murder”
“Is this like a tradition—?”
“I'd rather it wasn't, but it's happened enough to where I believe it unofficially is”
Tim slowly looked around, even though he was just in the living room, it felt too fancy for him, compared to Drake Manor this place was night and day. Sure it still looked like a museum a bit, but it was lived in, there were signs of life everywhere, it didn't feel sterilized.
Dick looked at Tim “I can show you to your room and then you can decide what you want to do”
Tim looked back at him, he blinked a bit before nodding.
Grayson began walking and the teen followed him. They walked upstairs and Dick stopped at a door. “this room is completely yours, feel free to modify it however you want”
Tim nodded and slowly entered the room. It was rather basic, it had the necessities as well as a laptop, phone and a camera on the table. He looked over at Dick slightly confused.
“We couldn't give you back your stuff since it's being used for evidence, so Bruce bought you new stuff” he said calmly.
Tim slowly nodded.
Dick smiled “If you need anything just find me or Bruce, Alfred the butler will call you for lunch” he said and walked away.
Tim slowly closed the door and after slight consideration locked the door as well. He looked around the room again. He didn't even know how he wanted to set it up. He was just glad to have a spot where he can be completely alone.
He slowly sat down on the bed and just tried leaning back and relaxing. He couldn't, his nerves felt like they were on fire. He got up and began pacing around the room a bit. He soon began looking in every single drawer and shelf, just digging through them. He didn't even care how he was making a mess of the room.
Tim wasn't even sure why he'd done it. He just needed to make sure of something, but he wasn't sure of what.
He slowly looked around at the mess and Janet's voice immediately rang in his head ‘Clean it up. Even the Devil could break his neck in this hellhole’
He slowly began placing everything on the shelves but he couldn't remember how they looked before he rummaged through them so he was forced to place them how he thought fit.
He finished cleaning up and paced around the room a bit. His nerves weren't any calmer. He looked at the window and closed the blinds. He still felt shaky, so he turned off the lights. He stayed by the heater under the window. His knees soon buckled a bit and he fell down onto the floor, pressing himself closed to the heater since he felt so cold.
Tim didn't want to be alone, but he wasn't sure if he was allowed to go and ask anyone to stay with him, even for a bit. ‘Pathetic, so desperate for attention’ Janet said.
His mind was running in all sorts of directions, but he was temporarily paralyzed by a knock on the door. An older posh man said “Master Tim, lunch is ready, you can come downstairs to eat”
Tim didn't respond, he just curled up on the floor against the heater, it was the furthest away from the door and the warmest thing in the room.
As soon as he heard footsteps walk away Tim's mind resumed its mess, thoughts in overwhelming amounts, the anxiety that made him feel like he'll throw up. He closed his eyes just for a minute.
×
Tim was startled awake by a gentle knock at the door. He quickly looked over at it, remaining quiet.
“Tim, just wanted to let you know I'll leave some water and packaged sandwiches outside your door” Dick said calmly.
Tim never thought he'd be so happy to have someone knocking on his door. He quickly got up and rushed over to the door. However he didn't want to seem desperate so he had to pause.
He heard some footsteps, like Dick was walking away, so he had to act quickly. “Dick?” He softly called out. He carefully twisted the lock to unlock the door as quietly as possible, to make it seem like it was never locked.
Grayson walked back over to the door and calmly asked “What is it Tim?”
Tim slowly opened his own door and looked at Dick “Can you- just stay by my bed for a while- I.. I mean you don't have to-” he mumbled, quickly getting embarrassed.
Dick smiled a bit “if that's what you want me then sure”
Tim nodded a bit and quickly walked over to his own bed. He sat down and tried to get comfortable. He had left the door a bit open, as an extra invite for Dick.
The older man walked into the room, he didn't turn on the light even if it was dark. He closed the door behind himself and looked over at Tim, waiting for any instructions. He clearly wanted Tim to feel in control at least within the room.
Tim took a deep breath, his own nerves calming down a bit. “You can sit down on the bed,” he said calmly.
Dick sat down, keeping slightly distance from Tim, still giving him the choice to get close or not.
Tim hesitated a bit before slowly getting closer before leaning against the older man. The warmth and presence of someone else made his nerves calm down quickly. He could feel tiredness starting to hit him as well.
He couldn't believe how nice it felt to have Dick close to him, he almost felt like nothing could hurt him now. He slowly fell asleep while leaning against the older man.
×
Tim woke up with Dick's jacket on his shoulders and a blanket on him as well. On his nightstand were a few bottles of water and packaged sandwiches and a few candy bars.
He slowly sat up and went to eat the food left for him before he slowly left the room. He carefully looked around. He headed downstairs and soon enough heard some people as well, there was some chatter coming from the living room.
He slowly entered the room, on the couch Dick and ––who Tim recognized from social media and news— Jason Todd. They were looking at the tv and watching Marvel Endgame.
Tim slowly walked over from behind before asking “Rewatching or first time watching?”
Jason slightly jumped from the suddenly audience behind him and said “I'm rewatching, and it's Dick's first time watching”
“Yep, wanna join us?” The oldest asked.
Tim hesitated but slowly nodded before sitting down on the couch, as far away as possible. He still didn't trust anyone, except maybe Dick.
They watched in silence for a moment before curiosity got the best of Tim and he asked “How is it like being in the mafia?”
Jason briefly looked over at Dick “He already knows?” He whispered.
“he's known for years, been stalking us”
Tim rolled his eyes “I can hear you guys”
Jason rolled his eyes as well “I just thought it would take you longer to figure it out.”
Grayson chuckled “Took me months”
“For me like a 3 weeks”
“I figured it out when I was 9” Tim said simply “Dick unintentionally gave it way”
Dick gasped “how?”
“Circus boy,” Tim said with a smirk before quickly growing serious again. “not many people know how to do a quadruple flip. Plus I saw your performance on the night of your parents death.”
Dick hummed a bit “you have photographic memory?”
Tim nodded a bit “yeah, I do”
“doesn't it bother you?” Jason asked and looked at Tim “you know, being able to remember everything like a picture?”
Tim blinked a bit “I'm afraid if I say why it doesn't bother me you'll call me insane”
Grayson chuckled a bit “it can't be that bad. We are in the mafia, we've done and seen some fucked up stuff.”
Tim hummed a bit and looked at the tv before calmly saying “It used to bother me, being able to recall everything almost perfectly.” He paused for a moment “But then I killed my parents. And suddenly everything felt better. It didn't bother me that I could recall everything perfectly, because I can recall their deaths and how I left them”
Jason and Dick were silent for a moment, Tim didn't dare to look away from the tv, he was internally shaking at that admission but he couldn't let them know.
Jason took a deep breath before he spoke “That gives some serious mommy and daddy issues core”
Tim couldn't help but snort a bit.
“Wanna talk about it?” Dick asked calmly.
“My parents?”
“Yeah.”
Tim paused a bit, slightly staring into space for a moment “there isn't much to talk about?”
“I want to know as an older brother, rather than a cop or something” Dick clarified.
Tim just shrugged, not making eye contact even though he could feel Dick's eyes on him. “There truly isn't a lot. They demanded I get good grades, have a bunch of extracurriculars and clubs, only have me food that was tainted with shrimp to control how much I eat—” he quickly realized he should shut up. “That's about it. Other than they were rarely home”
“That's multiple layers of fucked up” Jason said.
Yeah, Tim knew that, he also knew all the emotional manipulation and emotional trauma inflicted wasn't good either, as well as having to sell his own body to pay rent to his parents at 14 wasn't good. Tim also understood he definitely had attachment issues now — he knew he liked to cling to things easily but the moment it was taken away for even a hour his heart was broken and he couldn't bring himself to get attached to it again.
He had only kept returning to photography because it interested him and he loved it. But he was afraid that he was attached to the Wayne's in a parasocial way only and once he gets to know them more he'll get too clingy and ask for a break and afterwards Tim will never be able to bring himself to attach to them again.
He could logically reason that his attachment issues could be fixed but even through all the logic and reasoning in the world Tim felt so broken beyond repair.
He was too smart for an average psychologist to give him advice, because he already knew it all — use logic, trust people more, make a plan for when you absolutely need to spend time with the people who you trust. — he knew it, it just didn't work. He didn't feel emotionally complete because his parents were never emotionally available, and they forced him to represent and under express how he's feeling since as far back as Tim can recall.
“I know it's fucked up, but it can't get any worse now that they're dead” Tim said simply. Killing his parents had most felt good only in the moment, but now he was just starting to comprehend how much of a void he truly is. Janet and Jack had poured so many of their ideals into Timothy Jackson Drake that now Tim Drake had no idea who he was beyond his parents ideals and wishes.
Dick sighed a bit “Timmy, killing your parents only solves the surface issue, we both know there's so much underneath”
Tim didn't want to respond, but he felt uneasy not responding, like not giving anything back would prove Dick right so he responded with a sarcastic snort “Since when does Mafia care about psychological trauma?”
Jason sighed “Most Mafias don't, this one does, especially if it's a sibling”
“I barely know you all” Tim said and got up, heading to the staircase to avoid the conversation any further.
“It doesn't have to be that way Tim” Jason said, and it was the last thing Tim heard before he walked upstairs.
Tim locked his own bedroom door behind himself. He didn't even have the energy to get to his bed before he collapsed onto the floor. He knew Jason and Dick were right — Tim was severely psychologically and emotional fucked up.
His entire life had been controlled by being the perfect doll for his parents and killing them was cutting off the strings but what was he now?
What was he?
Who was he?
He had no idea. He could feel tears starting to well up in his eyes — yet he didn't cry. He didn't let a single tear slip from his eyes, because he knew the second a single bit slipped his entire shell would crack. And he needed that shell until he could fill the void within it.
Tim Drake was just a shell of a human… he could pretend to be one and he masked extremely well. He could flirt, seduce and manipulate people like they're violins and he's a professional player. But beneath he was just a broken doll who cracked past the point of no return and now he could just keep breaking more.
A single tear rolled down his cheek and dropped on the floor. Tim blinked as he stared at the drop of water. He blinked more and more tears fell down.
Even his shell was cracking and he couldn't believe it. He just let the tears roll and fall as he stared at the floor — empty and broken.
He wanted to let out loud sobs, cry his heart out, yell, scream, pull his hair — anything except sink into the floor more and cry silently. But unfortunately for him, that was all he could do.
He sank — metaphorically — into the floor and just let them tears fall.
×
The woman — who cares what her name was or remembers what her name was — came to talk with Tim. He didn't remember anything from their conversation. He was responding but he had no idea what he was saying. They just talked for a while.
They seemed to be eating something sweet, Tim barely registered the too colourful wrapping paper before the world went too dull again.
×
Some people came to drag Tim somewhere today, he didn't care, he couldn't care enough. He was dragged and he followed them. The world was barely touching Tim.
Sure Tim was sleeping, eating, speaking and walking, but Tim wasn't there. He was existing, but he wasn't present.
He had no idea how much time passed, he had no idea what day it was, he had no idea what hour it was. Did it matter? Probably not.
He sat through whatever his body was forced to attend before he was being dragged back. He didn't care. He couldn't hear or see anything through the thick fog everywhere, his body didn't register any sensation and anything he did feel was too dull, too dull to be anything important.
Was it the same day or a different day when the woman came to talk? It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered.
Nothing mattered.
Nothing mattered.
Nothing mattered.
Nothing mattered.
Nothing mattered.
Did time even pass before he was having a talk with the woman again? He could just barely register her visit anymore. She was saying something but the shell was too empty to hear anything.
For a brief moment he saw a glimpse of the courtroom. Briefly but not long enough he felt something cold around his wrists. He knew a lot of people were observing him, but he didn't care, he couldn't care, nothing mattered.
He wasn't even living, just trapped in a shell. His mind was nothing but some distant thoughts. He was nothing, he had always been nothing. Just a cotton filled doll with a porcelain shell.
He was nothing.
There was nothing within.
He was just a doll built of requirements and wishes.
He had no personality of his own.
He had no road ahead.
He wasn't even living.
He wasn't even worth the effort.
Suddenly he felt a strong grip around his wrist before he was pulled back and he was pulled into a tight grip. He was finally starting to register sensations, there was warmth all around him.
He could hear someone's heartbeat as well as their shaky breathing. He felt something fall on his face, and in that moment the entire world came back to Tim, or maybe he came back to the entire world.
Tim was tightly pressed against Richard's chest. One of his hands was in Tim's hair, pressing his head close to his chest, the other was holding Tim's shoulder and wrapped around his back, pressing Tim's entire body against him.
Tim recognized that Dick was panicking and crying while holding Tim close. He didn't even have to look around for much to realize that the two of them were on a rooftop, it looked to be a flatter part of the Wayne Manor roof so it only could've been the tower roof.
Barely a minute pressed against Dick's chest passed before he was covered with a jacket from behind, the jacket smelled like Jason and one glance behind him confirmed that Jason was there as well.
Tim could put the pieces together himself.
He gently gripped Dick's shirt — it was probably the most acknowledgment he's given the world in weeks? A month?
Dick tightened his hold on Tim and kept crying for what could've been 3 minutes but felt much longer to Tim whose sense of time had been severely fucked up.
As soon as Dick slightly pulled away, he looked Tim in the eyes. And something about seeing Tim's eyes made the older man cry again.
He let out a “Oh my god- you're finally out of it” and gently gripped Tim's hair and held onto it.
Tim slowly wrapped his hands around Dick and held onto him as he looked at Jason, the second oldest also seemed concerned and soon enough touched Dick's shoulder. “We all should head inside Dick, it's cold out here.”
Dick nodded a bit before he quickly stopped crying. He slowly let go of Tim, but not fully, he was still holding the youngers wrist.
Dick began heading to the staircase to get off the rooftop and Tim followed him, partly forced to follow, partly not. Jason was walking behind them both.
Soon enough the 3 of them were in a quiet room, it had a few bookshelves and seemed like one of the less used rooms in the house.
Tim was gently forced to sit down in the armchair and Dick sat down on a simple chair in front of him.
Tim already knew everything Dick was about to say, so when he slightly saw the older man's jaw tense up Tim quickly went to speak “I'm sorry-” he started.
Dick immediately looked startled and confused “what are you apologizing about?”
He let out a shaky breath “I'm sorry for not letting you- any of you help me-” he paused a bit “I know I'm not alone anymore- and you all care but-”
Jason cut Tim off “You are afraid of trusting people or getting attached”
Tim nodded a bit.
“Do you even know what happened?” Dick asked.
Tim made a hand gesture for so/so, “I know I dissociated-”
“Heavily, like very heavily” Jason added “it's been nearly 3 weeks”
“And I know I went to the courtroom a couple of times”
“Two times,” Jason added, helpfully.
“And then the rest I remember is mostly the rooftop” he said calmly.
Dick let out a shaky breath and went to hug Tim again, the younger boy allowed it and looked at Jason.
Jason just sighed a bit “You'll have to get a psychologist regardless, the court system will demanding it if you want to plead self defense”
Tim sighed a bit and nodded slightly “I guess I should-”
Grayson let go of Tim and after looking him over gently pinched his arm “Do you feel this?”
Tim nodded a bit “Yes, I'm fine, stop worrying” he said and gently went to push him away.
Jay rolled his eyes “No, way Timbo, he's not gonna stop worrying till he's sure.”
Tim rolled his eyes a bit and got up “I'm going back to my own room” he said and went to leave, Dick tried to follow him “I'll tell you if anything is wrong”
Jason placed a hand on Dick's shoulder, letting Tim leave.
He went to his own room and looked around. His room now actually looked lived in, and only because there was some clothes all over the place. He slowly got up and decided to clean up a bit. Throwing the clothes into a big pile to later bring them to the laundry.
After like 30 minutes there was a knock on his door. He walked over to the door and spotted a younger boy — Damian Wayne.
Damian looked at Tim before saying “Tt. Timothy, I just wanted to know if you want to play chess with me?” He asked and held up a chess board set.
Tim briefly looked at his own room before he looked back at the younger “Sure. We can play in the living room.”
Damian nodded and headed to the living room. Tim began following him, briefly remembering about his ankle monitor as he spotted red tape on the floor.
The two of them walked into the living room. Damian decided to sit on the floor on one side of the coffee table, and Tim joined him on the other side.
Damian set up the chessboard and made the first move “I believe you should know how to play chess”
Tim hummed a bit “I do know” he said simply and made his move.
“Do you enjoy chess?” He asked as he made a move.
“partly, I used to find it more enjoyable” Tim responded and made a move.
Damian looked Tim in the eyes as he made a move “What made it less enjoyable?”
“Chess Club. I was the president for a long time”
“Your parents—?”
“My parents.”
Damian let out a “Tt” he made his move “I hope you don't regret killing them. They had it coming”
“I couldn't force myself to regret it even if I wanted to.”
“Father taught us all to kill only if we know we won't regret it”
Tim looked a bit confused “I thought Bruce was against murder”
“As a civilian, as Batman, the leader of the biggest mafia in Gotham, he's only against unjustifiable murder” Damian explained.
Tim hummed slightly. They continued the rest of the chess game in silence, but it was pleasant silence since both of them were on the same brainwave of strategic chess.
Once Tim won Damian offered him a hand, and Tim shook it before both of them started to collect the chess pieces and put everything away.
Tim sat down on the couch and went to turn on the TV “What's your favorite movie Damian?”
“I don't have one, just put on whatever you want”
Jason entered the living room “The movie Flow recently won an Oscar as the best animated movie, we could watch that”
“The one about the cat?” Tim asked.
“Yes”
“If it's about a cat I suppose it will be enjoyable” Damian said simply.
“I wanna join too!” Dick said and entered the living room, sitting down on the couch
Tim chuckled a bit and went to find where to watch the movie, soon enough putting it on. Jason sat down on the couch near Tim and next to Dick and got comfortable. Damian chose to stay sat on the floor despite there being more than enough space on the couch.
By the end of the movie Damian was sitting with his arms crossed over his chest and gripping into his own clothes.
“Are you sure you don't want a hug Dami?” Jason said.
“I'm not crying Todd.” Damian said, despite the slight voice crack in his tone, he was close to crying.
“I didn't say you are”
“It was an emotional movie,” Tim said.
Dick himself was near tears and pulled Damian into a tight hug.
“Richard!” Damian squeaked slightly as he was held close to the older man's chest.
Tim slightly stretched and leaned against Jason, the movie had mostly exhausted him. Jason briefly looked at Tim but chose not to comment as he went to put on another movie which happened to be from the Star Wars original trilogy.
“Star Trek is better” Tim mumbled as he was leaning against Jason.
“No it's not, Star Wars is better”
Tim mumbled something against, but he was already half asleep, and Jason couldn't be bothered to argue with a half asleep person and just rolled his eyes.
×
A couple of days later Tim was sitting in the handcuffs in the courtroom, he just had to wait for the judge to read the final verdict.
He was fidgeting with his own nails, he knew he was guilty of murder, but he was just so tired of them and frankly they did deserve it, and the CPS system had failed him too, what was Tim supposed to do? Kill himself? Well… maybe, but it really was a kill or be killed situation. Because he'd either die from their neglect or they would die.
Tim didn't even want to look up at the judge as his verdict was read. He just knew it wouldn't end well for him.
He had that gut feeling that told him something is gonna go wrong. The aura in the courtroom was tense. It felt heavy. And there was unspoken tension.
And the tension string was stretching and stretching until it finally snapped when the judge said “Guilty. I sentence Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, guilty of murder of Janet Drake and Jack Drake. 12 months in Juvenile jail with possibility for parole”
Tim could only stare at his hands as the only thought that went through his brain was ‘Well… fuck’