Chapter Text
Tim was independent. He was reliable. He was self-sufficient. He was ten years old, and ten year olds didn’t need help – he was practically an adult at this point.
In fact, Tim hadn’t seen his parents in three months, and he was still doing great. Actually, it was almost better when his parents weren’t there because then he got to go out and see Batman and Robin on weekdays without having to sneak out his window down the trellis. His parents still hadn’t noticed those nights either, so it wasn’t too bad for his photography if they were home, but a couple of times, he had tripped and hurt his ankle when he jumped down. Since he started sneaking out, Tim had taken some really good photos, showing Robin leaping on rooftops or Batman swinging on his grappler or even both of them at the same time. There were even times where he was able to time it just right so that he got to take pictures of Batman and Robin in action fighting crime. It was better that Tim was alone; he was used to it.
The only problem was that his tooth hurt.
At the start, it was just a dull ache. When he would drink something with ice or eat cold food, there would be a throbbing sensation, but it was fine most of the time. He could ignore it. It just meant that he had to avoid some foods and drinks – no big deal. Tim liked sandwiches, and Mrs. Mac always brought the ingredients for a PB&J. It was no big deal. It was such an easy fix, and at the end of the week, Tim’s parents would be back from al-Ula, and then maybe he could go see a dentist.
At least, Tim reasoned, it was no big deal until his tooth started to hurt when he wasn’t eating.
He woke up one Tuesday and found that it wasn’t just a dull ache anymore but in fact a throbbing pain on the left side of his mouth. Luckily, it was still one of his remaining baby teeth (he thought), so he probably didn’t need major surgery (he hoped). He admitted that maybe he would have to eat soft foods for now, but it would be okay soon. He could ignore the pain a little longer, and then he would be fine. Tim had always gotten through by himself. Unfortunately, Tim’s parents had delayed their stay for another three weeks, so he would have to ignore it for a little longer. Just a little while longer.
He wasn’t some baby. He knew where the medicine cupboard was, so he started to take Ibuprofen on a schedule, following the instructions to manage the pain. He even made himself a chart to keep track of how many he could take each day and at what time because he was responsible like that.
He hadn’t actually looked in the mirror at the inside of his mouth since the beginning – not because he was scared or anything; he just didn’t think that looking at it would help anything when there wasn’t anything more that could be done. Also, if Tim didn’t look, it was easier to pretend it wasn’t there.
With each passing day, the pain in Tim’s mouth grew. It wasn’t a sudden sharp increase in discomfort, but it became more and more significant, and it seemed to be spreading. What was once localized pain became a throbbing on the left side of his jaw that was always there. He had to stop sleeping on his side because of how sharp the ache became.
The area around his tooth felt swollen, and he was positive that someone would notice at school. It must have been inflamed enough to show up when he was sitting in class. That’s how it felt at least. No one seemed to notice, so he just held out hope for his parents.
It was at that point that Tim became desperate.
He started to double up on the Ibuprofen and take Tylenol at the same time. He looked up online that it was okay to mix Ibuprofen and Tylenol. Maybe that would fix it. He added the Tylenol doses to his chart and increased the overall dosage of the Ibuprofen. Maybe he was taking more than he was supposed to, and sure, he probably should have been taking the children’s stuff, but that stuff didn’t really work anymore.
Tim actually tried pulling the tooth out himself, but it wasn’t wiggly, and he just couldn’t get enough of a grip. He tried the pliers he found in the garden shed, but he definitely wasn’t strong enough to yank it out of his admittedly small mouth, and it also really hurt when he tried.
Tim was sure that it would all work out. His parents would come home, and they would notice that he wasn’t feeling well, and they would surely take him to the dentist. Tim would ask them so nicely, and his mom would hold him, and say that it was all going to be okay, and then his tooth would get fixed. When they left again, it would all be fixed, and Tim could continue to look after himself. He was the man of the house after all.
On the morning of Tim’s parents’ flight, he was on the verge of tears. Even with the doubled up medication to soothe the pain, Tim felt like his mouth was on fire. He could hardly bend his jaw let alone chew, and he had only drank broth for the last week. Mrs. Mac thankfully hadn’t noticed because he was sure she would try some sort of herbal remedy on him, and he wasn’t sure he would be able to ingest it without throwing up. Everything kind of made him want to throw up actually. He really didn’t feel so good.
Tim sat eagerly at his computer tracking AG142, the flight his parents were on. When the plane landed, he put in quick calculations, feeling a little bit slower than usual, considering the time it would take to get off the plane, get their luggage, and move through the airport. Then he plugged that new time into his phone maps app. According to his calculations, Jack and Janet Drake should be home at approximately 3:37pm with their bags in front of Drake Manor. Tim would be ready.
Here was his plan:
- Tim would wait by the door so that he would be prepared when their taxi pulled in. They liked it when they saw him right away and didn’t have to wait (the one time he didn’t meet them at the door, they hadn’t actually come to find him at all, which was definitely worse than sitting and waiting by the door).
- When the taxi would arrive, he would run out to meet his parents, and he was sure that they would give him a hug. Afterall, it had been over four months since they’d last been in Gotham. They probably missed him at least a little bit.
- Then, Tim would help bring their bags in. Usually, he would help with the unpacking while his parents relaxed after their flight, but Tim would work really fast to get it done to prepare for the next step.
- Tim had a frozen lasagna defrosted, so he would impress them by having the food ready to go in the oven. They were always hungry when they got home after a long flight, and Tim was pretty sure he could force himself to eat a little bit of lasagna. Maybe just the sauce though.
- When they were settled, and unpacked, and fed, and in a good mood, Tim would mention offhand that he hadn’t been to the dentist since he was eight and that he worried that cavities might make him less desirable to the shareholders or at the galas or to future matchmaking candidates or to anyone. Surely, it was better that he make a dentist appointment to deal with the concern.
- Tim would go to the dentist, and Tim wouldn’t feel like his mouth was on fire.
The plan was perfect. All he had to do was see it out, and maybe by next week, he would have an appointment. He could either get a filling or a root canal or an extraction or honestly an entire jaw replacement – whatever was needed to make the pain stop. At this point, he would take anything.
Unfortunately, the plan did not go according to how Tim envisioned it.
There was traffic on the highway, so Tim’s parents ended up arriving at 4:05pm. The lateness should not have been unforgivable if it wasn’t for their baggage being lost at the baggage claim. Janet found out that one of her suitcases had actually been placed on a flight headed to Madrid, so she may not see her suitcase for another week. That was obviously unacceptable because she would be on another plane by then headed to Athens. She was in a bit of a bad mood.
“It’s great to see you, mom!” Tim had said gently as he opened the taxi door for his mother.
“Absolutely useless!” his mother had cried to Jack. “I will just keep calling if they can’t get it right. This is why you can’t trust the help. How are we supposed to be ready for the gala tonight without this evening’s attire?”
“So right, my dear! Completely useless. We will have to sue air support,” Jack replied, stepping out of the far end of the car and moving to the trunk. He pulled out three suitcases, apparently not enough for the entire trip. “Tim, would you be a good sport and bring these in? I need to get ready for the gala at the McTavert’s this evening, and my hair just can’t be salvaged.”
Janet nodded in agreement, giving him a half glance as she put her suitcase into his arms. “Oh, yes, Tim. Just the bags. I need to get dolled up for the gala tonight. I was going to show everyone the jewellery set we picked up in Jeddah, but that’s clearly not an option.” She started to walk away towards the house, not giving him a backwards glance.
Tim tried to smile, but only the left half of his mouth responded fully. “Yes, of course, I’ll unload the taxi. Sorry, but which gala though? I thought you had the night off?”
Janet was already on her way to the house, not really having looked at Tim, but Jack paused. “Why, Tim, it is one of the greatest nights of the year. There will be Supers there and everything. It’s all about connections, son. Remember that. Connections are incredibly important for us Drake men.”
Tim sighed, watching as Jack turned and half marched towards the main property. So much for the dentist. He would need to put the frozen lasagne in the fridge.
Most of Tim’s plan had fallen apart. He’d managed to complete parts 1 and 3 (waiting for the taxi and bringing in the bags), but each time he broached the topic of 2, 4, or 5 (hug, lasagne, and dentist), his parents had diverted the focus back to tonight’s gala.
The gala was important. There would be investors at the gala. They hadn’t been to a gala in months (4 months, in fact, given that was the last time they were home). They would make new connections at the gala. They would need Tim to be on his best behaviour at the gala. The gala was important.
Tim just needed to get the gala over with. Then, surely, he could move onto steps 2, 4, and 5. He wasn’t even really that fussed with 2 and 4 now. He could live without a hug. He didn’t really need dinner. But unfortunately, he did need the dentist. He had denied it long enough. There was something incredibly wrong with his mouth, and ignoring it was impossible.
He had tried, while his parents got ready and he unpacked their suitcases, to mention it. It hadn’t been a success.
“Mom, I was just wondering if you could book me a dentist appointment—”
“That’s hardly necessary. You just went to the dentist. Now could you pass me the hair spray?” Janet had replied with a bobby pin in her mouth and curlers in her hair.
“Actually, mom, it’s been a couple years since I went, and studies show that children who don’t go to the dentist are significantly more likely to get cavities.”
“Well, you aren’t most children Timothy. You’re responsible.”
“It’s just that my mouth hurts pretty bad, actually—”
“We can get you some Ibuprofen for that, or I might have some something prescription in my purse. I think I might have some codeine. Here,” she said, rummaging through her bag and handing him a bottle of pills. “Take this.”
“Please, mom—”
“It’s not the time, Tim. I’m busy.”
“But–”
“No buts. Also, take a breath mint. Your breath smells terrible.”
His father had been even less of a success.
“Dad, I’m sorry to bother you, but–”
“Timothy, apologizing gets you nowhere. A man needs to be strong. Firm.”
“Dad, please book–”
“Pleases are for people who don’t think they can get what they want.”
“I need to go to the dentist.”
“Dentists! A waste of money if you ask me. Just looking for the insurance money. Always trying to fill things that don’t need filling or charging for x-rays. A load of crooks, all of them. Just like a client at our last showing, now that was a crook! Can you believe that he tried to bargain for less than 2 million for…”
His father had continued for another 15 minutes about the client, and Tim had been unable to get a single word in.
At this point, Tim was pretty sure it was a baby tooth that was the problem, his first molar on the left side to be specific (he had looked extensively into teeth in the last few weeks). He didn’t know what was wrong with it (that was for the dentist to figure out), but he really just wanted it out of his mouth. Surely, if he could just get it out of his mouth, the pain would go away.
Unfortunately, the gala took priority.
Janet, dressed in a sweeping gown of emerald with her hair partly curled, had swept into Tim’s room in a tizzy. “You aren’t dressed? Your hair is a mess! At least get your suit out. You should wear the green tie to match your father and me.”
Then she was gone, Tim’s room in slightly more disarray than when she had entered.
Okay.
Tim would get through the gala.
His tooth would be fine for one more night.
He just needed to not embarrass himself in front of his parents and all of the other important adults, and then his parents would be proud of him, so he would maybe get to go to the dentist. It sounded like the perfect plan.