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ghostlychaosfoil · 5 hours ago

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Tim drake neglects himself or smth

fic um I’m gonna kill myself I haven’t posted a fic in so long. I hope this reaches at least some dc hoes 🥺

warning slow start bt dubbs ok sorry bai bai

Sometimes the cave was a bit colder than usual. Like when Bruce and Dick fought, when Damian cried, or like this night when Tim was alone at work, quiet and hyped up on the thrill of the case. His lips a bit sticky from what had to have been his 11th Pepsi of the night, maybe even 12th if he cared to count.; it just would’ve been hard with this skull crushing migraine of his. The boy liked to pretend the computers big bright screen wasn’t a contender to his suffering, all while having zero intention to take a break. Poor kids skin hasn’t seen the sun in days and you could tell, in fact by the way he was acting now you’d think he hadn’t breathed fresh air since ‘02. His black hair slightly greasy and skin paler than normal, chills ran down his caped back as he slouched deeper in his fathers chair. Sighing to himself in the silent cavern, he almost heard an echo. ‘12 am’ he read with an amused smile

“there’s still time!”

Bruce had rarely let him lead a mission on his own, the most recent one hadn’t gone so smoothly; he got Damian hurt, and for that he still hadn’t forgiven himself, seeing the kid in pain for a mistake Tim could’ve avoided drove him further in his current fit of depression, guilt mixing with shame, embarrassment entangled in his reputation now. He sees why Bruce was so protective of him as a kid now, even still he babied him. But This case would be adults only, he swore. (Ignoring the fact he was hardly 17) this job would be his rebound, Tim’s chance to prove to Bruce that he’s stable and ready to lead a mission again. The case in question was particularly interesting, drug shipments were arriving to prisons in bulk, several pounds a week. Multiple inmates were found overdosed in the span of only 3 weeks. Yet no one could figure out where they were coming from since the former biggest drug trafficker had been murdered a couple months back. Now, Bruce had brought this up several times and even implied that someone may be involved on the inside. Gothams police force wasn’t exactly known for their clean reputation, he tried to shelf the case until he could get a little more feedback. But Tim wouldn’t let this slide as he knew he could do this on his own, the second Bruce greenlit his project he got to work. The past 4 days have been nonstop spying and investigation. He dug up some bank records (definitely totally legally.) and found the police chief had a couple of suspicious deposits, one week his average pay came in, then slowly small sums of money washed in repeatedly. It didn’t take long for Tim to catch the daughter of the chief walking along the dark docks late last night. And Even later, her father arrived to collect his cash. That must’ve been the strange deposit patterns. Patterns, it was all about patterns, Tim knew this. Patterns like the code in his computer as he hacked the GCPD’s bank accounts, patterns like how he memorized the keyboard when he texted for dick and Bruce to come down, patterns like how he recognized whose footsteps caught up to him in the cave. Patterns , the way he stuttered while excitedly explaining his findings.

“So- okay calm down,” Dick insisted waving the air with his hands. “You know for sure he’s involved?”

His tone genuine, as if Tim wasn’t the greatest detective any of them knew.

“Positive!”

He replies excitedly, hands shaking as he downed another half ibuprofen. 4th of the day, 10th of the week. The pill went down dry and rough, judging by the muffled coughs that escaped him.

“I even saw him down at the docks meeting with some of falcones guys”

flipping through his thick folder he picked out a couple of Polaroids, marked the date in red ink, 1 day ago. Clearly showing the police chief with his daughter collecting envelopes and unmarked containers. His notes scribbled illegibly in drying pen ink beside them,

“Wow, you.. you just got ‘em Tim” Dick giggled in disbelief, his hands delicately sliding the photos back to his baby brother but not without noticing the way his leg bounced and his hands trembled. Grayson fidgeted with his white tee, Tim noticed “Hey-uh-little bird, this is awesome just..”

his gentle voice lost in the revving sound of the Batmobile pulling into the cave. waterfall entrance, always classy. Forgetting what dick was saying, Tim all but jumped out of his seat pulling the black cowl To hide his exhausted eyes and unwashed hair. Dicks focus lingered a little too long on his brother, he worried about Tim… like a lot. Still he couldn’t say anything now, he’d just bring it up once Bruce and him could talk alone.

Red Robin’s stamina was quickly depleting as he climbed down the stairs,, wearingly headed to the Batmobile to show his dad his work

“Wash up then find Alfred for dinner.”

The man’s sharp voice demanded toward his youngest, out the Batmobile hopped little Robin Freshly 12 and tonight a little quieter than normal. Normally Damian didn’t like taking orders, even-slash-Especially from his Father. This time he just nodded sadly and trudged off, giving a half hug to Tim as he left, wow he must be really out of it.

“What happened to him B?”

Batman looked up at his son a little confused by the question before realizing

“nothing, hes 12 and he’s tired,”

he replied heading up the stairs, somehow unfazed. His boots hitting the steps with a deep thumping, asserting authority of some sort.

“I dunno B, I mean he looked.. kinda sad?”

Tim paused, nearly tripping up the stairs multiple times. He thinks he’s seeing double now? Batman turned once again a little lost

“ Red Robin, that’s how normal children react to exhaustion. Damian is still of sound .. mostly sound mind and I’d prefer he sleeps long enough to keep him that way”

touché. As his son caught up to him a little hastily, Batman sat at his computer admiring the work Red Robin had put into his investigation.

“Is this your case?” He asked earnestly with a hardly hidden smile.

Pride is what he felt in this boy,

“yes actually . It’s why I called you and dick, look,”

leaning on his fathers chair he pulled up all the evidence and notes from over Batman’s shoulder. His dad looked impressed, ‘twas the high he chased. Tim smiled a bit, nearly forgetting his favorite part (the physical evidence)

“you did great chum, you said there’s an expected shipment tonight?”

His dad turned slightly in his chair to face his back as he organized the photos

“yeah, well-maybe. Not a shipment but a payment perhaps? Dick was just here, he probably went to get-UGH…changed..” his sentence interrupted by a sharp pain in his head and burning in his stomach that surely had been building for a while, all those damn Pepsis.

Tim gripped his cowl tightly, eyes shut as if he was trying to manually rip out the headache. Batman raised a concerned brow, the patterns were showing again. He’s been through this before with Tim, he was never too good at hiding things from Bruce, well that’s what he thought until Tim turned about 15 and they learned all sorts of things about him,. he’d been engaging in practices far too harmful to himself since before he even formally met Bruce. And he hid that pretty well for a preteen, God he worried about him they all did, Bruce just., more than he’d ever let on.

“Whats the matter son.”

grim voice poking small edges for a concerned tone to seep through, just enough to let his son know he was safe

“I’m.. I’m sorry- I’m ok!!”

The boy lied, sweaty pale palms gripping the edge of the counter tightly through his leather gloves, maybe if he hung his head, Batman behind him wouldn’t see the way he shook when he stood still. Tim doesn’t remember the last time he slept, likely it was the evening before his first patrol on this investigation. Yeah, he sees it now, a cold November afternoon, Alfred drew him a bath- bless his soul, before he retreated to his room to drink his tea and a couple of pills hopefully passing out until midnight in a pile of warm blankets, and it worked, he woke up energized as ever and motivated as hell.

“Tim, does your head hurt still?”

Bruce pulled back his own cowl unintentionally revealing his anxious expression , brows furrowed and lips curled into a slight frown. Tim bit the inside of his cheek, shifting his focus from Bruce’s pained face down to his foot, he doesn’t remember mentioning a headache to his father, but he doesnt remember much from the past two nights anyways.

“Just a bit..” his response nearly unheard, barely a whisper beneath his cowl.

“Did you take Tylenol? Or drink water”

he asked knowingly as he looked around , Batman didn’t mention it but he noticed the soda cans crushed under his desk, as well as the half empty bottle of ibuprofen seemingly hidden in the shadows like a true member of the bat-family..

“yeah, it’s really not bad” he assured him, anything to get out on his mission,

Red Robin swayed back and forth while explaining his strategy to Bruce, his father listening intently somehow not questioning Tim’s imbalance. Perhaps he noted it silently like he preferred to do, letting his observation simmer on a back burner in his brain while he waited for the right time to act. The way Batman nodded along seemed almost patronizing as if Tim was a kid explaining a children’s show for the 10th time.

“You guys ready?”

Nightwing interrupted, finally dressed and freshly showered. His perfect teeth gleaming in a straight smile that only seemed to falter when his focus shifted to Tim.

“Bro, you look like… crap”

his language toned down for Bruce’s overwhelming presence, the bat turned back to inspect his younger son who covered a flinch when he turned, the sudden shift of atmosphere seemed to make the boy uncomfortable, his weight shifting awkwardly whilst he stuttered through his defense.

“It’s!- I just haven’t showered today--relax..”

his remark came out sharper than he intended, wrinkled forehead causing an indent in the outside of his musty cowl, to which Dick raised a suspicious brow

“Sure we believe that.” Grayson muttered sarcastically, bracing his hands upon his fathers shoulders from behind “Bruce?” With a smile back on his face, His tone turned serious suddenly.

dick liked to keep things light especially around his brothers. But he and Bruce were very serious when they needed to be, Tim’s seen it plenty of times. However, He was not usually the reason. Batman stroked his lip, deafened by the millions of thoughts Tim was sure were going through the detectives mind at the moment. The creaking of Batman’s chair seemingly louder than usual, he knew from dicks tone that Bruce’s next words would be vital to whether or not he would be leading the mission or even involved at all. Scratching at his sleeve with his black gloved fingers, the dull bruising feeling he got distracting him from the edge of Bruce’s next words

“Red Robin,” Bruce paused then immediately sighed, tapping dicks hands as a queue to get off his shoulders. “Are you or are you not well enough to go out on the field tonight? Please be honest, we need to be as efficient as possible.”

The knight stood from his seat, suddenly towering over his sons again. Tim thought Dick seemed displeased with the question judging by the expression he made, somewhere between caught off guard and confused; unless those were synonyms, he’s too tired to decide. At least Bruce gave him an easy question, he’d say he’s fine again and prove it on the mission!

“I’m fine B Really, not even tired” he gave him his best ‘been awake a reasonable amount of hours’ smile. Timothy Wayne everybody…

“Oh come on bats, you know this isn’t safe. You know this”

his brother nearly raised his voice. Red Robin flinching again at the sounds slight echoing in the cave.”Nightwing, we’ll discuss this later ” Bruce calmly interrupted, raising his palm slightly at his son as a gesture of truce.

“I’m sorry but I really think this is a bad idea. Tim,”

the acrobat turned his body over to look at his brother with gentle eyes, palms together in a comforting manner

“baby bird you’re tired. You’ve worked so hard, let us handle this or we can get it next week. Please come with me upstairs— even Damian’s asleep.”

He threw in that last part with a bit of a laugh, hoping to ease Tim’s obvious anxiety.

“I..I think I can do this dick, really.”

The last thing Tim wanted to do was lie, but in cases like these he really had to.

“I even slept a couple hours this evening. Plus you guys NEED me! I know everything about this case”

guilt tainting his lies as they left his lips, dicks body shifted in a way Tim couldn’t read, but to be fair he doesn’t think he could even read his name if they put it in front of him right now. The older bit back more questions as to respect Tim’s privacy, still he knew Batman the best. Their father broke the tension

“I’m afraid Tim couldn’t stay if he wanted to,”

this caught both their attention

“Batmobile. we’ll talk once we get back”

his boys followed him loyal as always, trailing his shadowed silhouette through the dimly lit cave.

Nightwing lounged in the backseat of the speeding car, softly grounding himself with the leather seats while trying to avoid commenting on Red Robin’s jerking awake when they spoke to him. Tim felt like his stomach was tightening in on itself while his head neared explosion. ‘Thank God for nighttime In Gotham’-A phrase never uttered before, his strained eyes couldn’t handle anything brighter than the polluted stars. Bruce pulled the Batmobile onto a roof of a deserted car garage, having flicked the headlights off a while back. While they scouted from above Tim went over their plan again,

“the guy lives in one of these boats,”

he lowered his own binoculars to see Bruce already zero-ed in on the exact greyish-blue boat he was referring to

“every Thursday night Chief comes down through the backstreets and collects his cash.”

Once they reached the docks, The boys scaled its high roofs speaking over comms while Bruce stayed ground level, hidden in the shadow of the boats

“nightwing, you and I have.. oughh.. stay high and uh..”

Red Robin’s left arm wrapped around his abdomen as his right struggled to hold him up on the rusty metal beams supporting the roof,

“Timmy? What’s wrong”

his brothers voice sounded quietly over the comms, a serenity for Tim’s current state.

“Field names, Nightwing.”

Batman interjected sternly, it’s always been a strict rule of his so they weren’t too caught off guard.

“Right—Sorry. Red Robin, you okay?”

The question lingered in the air a bit, there were no delays on these comms so for a second there he got scared. Finally his voice replied, a little shaken

“..fine, nightwing. Thanks..” with long pauses between his words. How reassuring.

After what seemed like hours in the cold—especially to Red Robin… their guys finally showed. Bundled up in sweaters, scarves and boots Carrying the suspected Cash and cases, several of the men desperately questioned the chief about his daughters whereabouts to which he responded she’d be there soon.seconds later Headlights of a purring motorcycle invaded the frame on Tim’s camera, her arrival. Her short purple hair visible even in such dark.

“Care to explain what’s going on here red?” The detectives thoughts interrupted by his brother once again,

“I suspect-“

“you suspect?” His father questioned

“I know. Chief here found out about these drugs traffickers a while back.”

He kept his voice as low as he could

“turns out his daughter’s involved with ‘em too, so if he busted them..”

“She’d go away too?”

Tim nodded despite knowing dick couldn’t see him

“For a long time.”

“So he’s been accepting some hush money every week and allowing them to slip it into the prisons easier..”

Bruce stayed quiet, probably too focused on what the men before him were discussing. they headed further down the port unknowingly walking straight into Dicks range “should I get em now B?” words sharp and focused, he was Ready to pounce. “Ask Red Robin. he’s the leader tonight,”

A sentiment that sent butterflies in the teens aching stomach, he gave his older brother clearance to confront the men. Suggesting he disarm them first then let he and Batman take over. Nightwing handled the criminals with such grace, his acrobatics on near full display in the flashy way he loved so much. Batman joined in on the fun once two of the guys got ahead on dick,

“You sick freak,” the chief accused as he pulled his gun on Batman and nightwing, “I’ll shoot your sorry ass right where you stand, these guns are banned in the states; knock your head straight off!” He warned. The 8 men formed a circle around them.

Batman stepped back a bit, not out of fear, but to give tim the chance to wrap up his recording

“You got that Red Robin?”

“Got it B!” He smiled

Tim dropped from the roof, bracing the impact of the fall with one of the men’s shoulders, they crunched beneath his weight and he toppled over to the ground in pain. The kids headache growing immensely over the course of the fight, he became sloppy and unaware. Even getting knocked in the Stomach a couple times further amplifying his nausea and cramping . Tim was so dizzy from the sudden movements and nosies disorienting him in his . He thinks he could throw up right now, in fact he might. Red Robin stumbled away from the fight for a split second hands shaking braced on his knees—which were also shaking. In fact his whole body was trembling, couldn’t have been from the cold because he felt so hot. His stomach squeezed again bringing him to his knees In torment, with tears brimming his blue masked eyes his vision went blurry. His ears diluting the surrounding noises to pure muffles even when he knew they were speaking to him. Despite his tremendous pain, Tim had to prove himself. He braced his weight upon his knee and lifted back up to stumble once again but into the fight now. Bo in hand he leaned heavily against it, groaning Under his breath with sounds he couldn’t hear. Somehow he climbed back up to the ceiling beams, he planned to ambush them from atop like he had before. He hardly made it to the center before his vision went black and he lost his balance this time his hearing going completely silent, the last thing he heard was nightwings voice shouting desperately for him

“oh shoot, Tim!”

Obviously Batman had noticed the patterns in Tim’s behavior tonight, the swaying, The slurring, the shaking, the Falling asleep—okay that one’s more typical for Tim, but nevertheless concerning to his father. Still he allowed Red Robin to lead the mission, knowing how much more important it was to him, it was rarely a hard decision for Bruce whether he should do what he thinks is best, or what his kids feel better doing. However The Bat himself was no stranger to this behavior, and Of all times to be a hypocritical piece of work; he chose today to preach what he practiced and allowed his son to indulge in his bad habits.

He hated himself a little more tonight as he watched his son fall from the ceiling, knocking the police chief cold out on impact, his daughter terrified . Batman practically lunged across the wide dock to his sons side, shielding them both with his cape as the criminals continued to shoot at them.

“Nightwing, can you-“ anxiously he turned slightly to see his eldest already disarming and pacifying the crooks. “Take him Bats! I got it here” he punctuated his order with a head kick to the chiefs daughter.

Bruce carried Tim delicately yet firmly in his arms, stabilizing him while he ran. The Batmobile’s hatch opening already as he approached. Tim was breathing he was just a little warm—and a lot unconscious. The seatbelt clicked over Tim automatically, Bruce busy Gently removing his cowl and softly sweeping aside his bangs from his sticky face, he cradled his cheek wiping the dried blood from a scrape with his thumb. He had the car autopilot to nightwings location quickly, thumbs slipping under Red Robin’s domino mask so he could see his sons eyes. Only when his face was laid bare in front of them did Bruce realize how badly he messed up, Tim’s eyes and cheeks were slightly sunken, lips chapped and forehead wrinkled—clear signs of dehydration. His skin was pale and perhaps this was Bruce’s imagination but it even seemed a little yellow compared to his usual red-white undertone. His heart panged with guilt for letting his son down.

A concerned nightwing climbed into the car as fast as he could, placing Tim’s discarded camera beside him on the seat

. “Tell me he’s okay B..”

Batman kept quiet, focusing on speeding home.

“Should we take him to Cassie’s nest?”

“No, home. Alfred needs to check him up” Bruce said quickly, keeping his replies short.

Dick peered over the front seat to see his baby brother, he lay there pale and breathing, but he looked so, so tired. His chest ached in a heartbroken feeling, he should’ve pressed harder about what was bothering him. It must’ve been those pills he saw him taking… but he was never a junkie or anything, not like Roy, or even Jason almost was. If it wasn’t the pills it was something else, was Tim even off his meds Anyway? He thinks he heard Bruce mention it once… the worries never stopped when you were part of this family, but if dick didn’t worry for them then who.. God, who would?

Noise never felt so good as it does when you wake up dazed and confused in a soft bed, fan blaring in his face he slowly clenched his fists, just to feel them. One arm extended to the side of him and the other rested limp upon his abdomen, he opened his eyes to find he actually wasn’t in his room, nor was he on the cot in the cave. He couldn’t tell where he was but it was dark, freezing, and the door was creaked slightly open. He hated that, God he hated that. Whenever he woke up to a door slightly agape it meant someone checked on him, not that it didn’t make him feel loved. Just that he felt embarrassed, he felt exposed knowing someone peered into his room even for just a second while he was asleep, it meant someone wanted to ask him something that now he would never know. It was always a gamble between ‘Alfred wants to know if you want tea’ and ‘Bruce wants to make sure you haven’t slit your wrists’ and it was humiliating every time, even when he was awake he’d hear the door creak open behind him, he’d pretend to have headphones on or not notice but he did, every damn time. Tim pushed down the fearful thoughts of who did it or why his door Was open When he felt something. Tiny hands curled together against his side, he felt small even breaths against the side of his chest as well. His own breath halted to turn as quietly as he could, looking down to find Damian dead-asleep in his armpit, glued to his side like a cat, or more like a kitten. Soon after his eyes adapted to the dark, he realized he was actually in Damian’s room for some confusing reason? Well why risk waking him up and putting him in a bad mood. After softly pressing a kiss on his sleeping brothers damp rosewater-smelling-head, Tim leaned his head back against Damian’s silk cased pillows and relaxed, sinking deeper into his exhaustion ignoring his ever-present stomachache .

“How’s he looking?”

“Fine. Better. He’s-“

“Is he awake, he nee-“

“-Check on em. Alfred says-“

“Is Tim here? He hasn’t-“

Tim tried to listen to the fading voices whenever he heard them but his sleepiness got the better of him each time, Falling in and out of consciousness. Until finally a sharp breath awoke him, This time he woke up with two feelings, hungry, bathroom. Lucky his head felt better, he doesn’t remember when it was hurting but he could tell it had from the soreness, he slipped his arm out from under his baby brothers head. Sneaking off to the bathroom first, he considered taking a shower right then but decided to eat first then take it from there. He really had to get down stairs and finish his… wait no. He finished that already? The boy’s brows furrowed as he washed his hands, lost in confusion knowing he would’ve tried to go out on the mission immediately once he finished his case…. But he doesn’t remember going. Subconsciously, wet hands ran through his greasy hair in hopes of calming himself down. Tim saw his reflection in passing, He looked ill. While inspecting his eyebags he noticed a small scratch on his face, then a bruise on his knuckles, then the pain in his lower back started to kick in. He was in a fight? Before heading to the kitchen he checked back in on Damian, the child lay still where he left him. He’d be back, once he got some food and water and showered and— ok he’d be back another day. Using the rail to properly climb down the stairs, feet thumping heavily against the carpeted wood. Were he and Damian home alone? Why was it so quiet…

Bruce and Alfred watched intently as Tim stumbled sleepily down the stairs obviously fatigued, ready to catch him had he fallen. The teen rubbed his eyes with vigor, toes hanging dangerously on the edge of each step barely making it down safely. Muffled tv noises hardly registering to the boy past his clouded cognition, vision adjusting to the now bright lights and tv screen.

“Bruce..?” It was hardly a mumble slurring from his dry mouth.

His sons endearing sleepy tone shooting a bittersweet sense of paternity through his aching heart,

“It’s me son ,” Bruce rushed over to his sons side, lending out his left arm from over the shimmery embellished banister.

Immediately Taking his fathers extended hand Tim curved the bottom of the stairs and stumbled into Bruce’s arms, he didn’t know why but it felt so special in that moment—He felt so special. Inhales of Bruce’s Versace cologne kept shallow by his fathers tight embrace, close to his chest where he heard his heart beating clear.

“Hey, B?..”

words whispered softly

“ did we go on my mission? The drug case?” Yawning out the last half of his sentence then stepping back to look at Bruce.

“We went chum, you did great.”

Something in the way Bruces eyes shifted when he asked told Tim that things weren’t as great as his father wanted him to believe,

“What’s wrong, did.. where’s dick?”

Suddenly more alert, the teen looked around subtly searching for even one of his black haired siblings. Expecting someone on the couch since the tv was on,

“Dicks in the kitchen, let’s go see him.”

Wayne replied solemnly, ushering his boy away from the main room and through the kitchen doorway where they were met by Dick pouring himself a glass of wine, and a stove full of food. The sweet everpresent scent of spices Wafting through the warm room into Tim’s nose, which sniffled up at the air like a curious dog.

“Alfred, would you please get Tim a plate.”

“No dad, thanks I’m not-“

He refused the food although it smelled amazing and he was kinda hungry, he just wasn’t awake enough to process anything heavy.

“You will eat.”

Rare was it that his father used his Batman voice out-of-cowl, especially on Tim and Damian. Whenever it occurred they knew better than to resist. Tim squeaked out a small ‘ok’ sliding onto a seat at the kitchen island, and opened his arms to accept the steaming plate from Alfred, Mouth watering from just the sight of buttery bread accompanied by a medium bowl filled to the brim with steaming hot creamy potato soup.

“Are you guys putting me down or something ?”

He giggled while digging into his soup, careful to blow on it first. Truly Alfred was a blessing, he Cooks amazing, cleans, jokes, and still has such a heart of gold; not to mention he may be the only one with enough patience to deal with Bruce . Tim reminds himself to buy him a cool gift this weekend, maybe some mustache clippers or something.

“Tim. what the hell happened on Wednesday.”

Punctuating his accusatory question, dick slammed his glass down on the table with a force short of breaking it.

“What? Huh?”

The younger dropped his spoon into his half eaten bowl, confused and a little nervous by his brothers tone.

“You’re telling me you don’t remember blacking out mid patrol! falling on your ass from the literal ceiling?”

Tim cringed at his misuse of ‘black out’ surely dick knew better, and if this is true then it would explain the pain in his lower back and head. He thought for a second, awkwardly recalling very few moments from that cold, blurry night.

“Um… I think I remember now”

God could this be anymore humiliating? At that moment tim wanted to sink out of consciousness and forget about it all, go back in time to prevent any of it, or even just kill himself. His face flushed red, now hanging low past his shoulders while he tried to avoid dicks intense, piercing eye contact.

“Well, we have to talk about that.”

“Is this like a sting?”

“More like an intervention.”

Bruces gravelly voice sounded from behind him to remind Tim of his presence, he felt his strong hands rest on his shoulders as he tensed up. An intervention … no, this wasn’t happening. He flinched away from Bruce’s touch, swiveling to the side on his barstool.

“Please, Tim”

He felt a palm on his chest preventing him from moving forward, though the gentle request eased his loud mind. Anxiously taking his seat back as Bruce and dick spoke to him, they asked him a couple questions He was too familiar with answering in an instant.

‘How have you been?’

Fine.

‘Are you on drugs?’

What??

‘Do you need more help.’

No.

‘When was the last time you slept.’

This time he paused, unintentionally but still a noticeable pause. The answer which usually came so easily seemed to be lost in the depths of his mind, he stirred his cold soup thoughtfully Slurping more down before parting his lips to speak .

“Like. Idunno, yesterday”

Dick threw his arms up at the response, which meant it was incorrect?

“BS DUDE, YOU WERE PASSED OUT ALL DAY, ALL. DAY. DO YOU KNOW HOW FRIGGIN INSANE THAT IS?!” All Tim could think was ‘Wow dick and Bruce were really similar when they got mad’

“THAT MEANS YOU HADNT SLEPT FOR AT LEAST A WEEK. YOU LIED TIM, and you just did again.”

It’s not technically a lie if he was passed out right?

“It wasn’t a week it was 4 days!”

Tim shouted defensively almost immediately regretting his words. Bruce looked down at Tim from where he stood to his left, he felt his Palms growing sweaty under both dick and Bruce’s burning gazes; yet from his angle was unable to decipher the expression on his fathers face. Surely he was disappointed or ashamed, embarrassed, concerned? The latter being Tim’s worst case scenario, the last thing he needs is a concerned Bruce hovering over him and checking on him at all times, not like he doesn’t already but it would’ve been amplified if Bruce felt the need to worry about him again. Dick and Bruce stared at each other in horror.

“ and food? Water?.. you have been drinking water right, not just.. sodas?”

“Yeah, I Did it’s fine.”

“When did you eat, Tim?”

Now dicks back is turned to him, as if he was too frustrated to even look him in the eyes.

“Like, when we went to that party..with the food..”

with a response as apprehensive as that one, you’d think he was doing drugs. Maybe dick would even take that better. Everyone in the room could feel the intensity of his anger, whether he was mad at Tim or himself was the question.

“Sunday. That was on Sunday, the buffet.”

At some point, some people just stop giving energy into their arguments, depending on the person it could be to calm themselves down or to calm you down; Dick was always on board to de-escalate a situation and this was one of the many tactics he used. If there was one thing Tim Drake-wayne hated it was being treated like a coworker-slash-patient by his family, Bruce was an expert on this. The man sighed heavily taking the seat next to Tim,

“Tim, you hadn’t slept, ate, showered?.. I mean, Did you even go to the bathroom, this is concerning.”

Tim stayed quiet, humiliated by their analysis on his actions. It’s not like Batman hadn’t done this before, why should he be limited to the bounds of his role. Why can’t he be the next greatest detective, investigating takes time and sacrifice, anything else would’ve cost him time he was using to lock up Gotham’s most pathetic.

“What. is he serious? Are you serious?..” dicks tone cautionary, like he was about to lose it whispering curses under his breath.

“You know how stupid this crap is Tim. You know how seriously dumb-“

“Dick,”

“No! Bruce let me tell him this!. Your body asks like, What? 3? 4?! Things of you. And you think it’s SMART to just, ignore it for days?!. This is how you get sick and this is how people die!”

Tim was holding back tears now but he’d never falter, his shoulders stood straight and his lip hardly even twitched when he looked into dicks eyes, Dick who used to take him to get ice cream after patrol, and sneak him out to a movie when Bruce got on his ass about disobeying him. His favorite person, truly. Now he was scolding him for being stupid and he was right, perhaps that’s what Tim hated so deeply was the fact that everything dick said made sense.

“In the winter, your spleen Tim. Your immune system? did you even think of how sick you could get. And showering seriously? gross, please dude you smell like sweat, acetone breath!-“

“Dick! Out.”

Of course Bruce would defend Tim, he was the only son of his who had similar mental patterns. Bruce in his early Batman days went several days without showering, eating, taking care of himself at all. It was easiest for him to understand Tim’s perspective, but their separate history of mental health issues complicated this dynamic.

“Take care of your son Bruce. He sure as hell won’t do it himself.”

Dick ditched his glass, opting for the while bottle of wine as he walked out of the kitchen and headed upstairs. Tim sat qpsrill, already jaded by these new concerns. It would be over soon and he could deal how he had to, just get through the Bruce part and it’s over. He kept his shoulders tense, always on edge the way Batman taught him.

“Son, it’s ok love”

Bruce stood and hugged him once again hoping to ease his Guilty conscience

‘Take care of your son Bruce’ dicks words stung him, bad. He hadn’t taken great care of any of his kids since Dick first left, and that realization drove him to be better when Damian arrived. Although Tim got the better half of the middle, he definitely needed more. The Kid is so troubled you would’ve thought he grew up the same as Jason or Damian, but no. Just a rich kid with issues, like father…like son.

Bruce watched how Tim’s knee bounced and shook his whole body as it did.

“I’m sorry, Bruce For everything, Dicks right, I’ll be better I promise.”

“ Please Tim, don’t listen to what Dick said. He’s mad at me because I’d dint listen when he said you looked tired, and I want to apologize to you son. I shouldn’t have allowed you to go”

Bruce swept Tim’s hair from his forehead to see his bright blue eyes again, still a little tired but full of life now. His skin noticeably warmer toned as well, the rest served him well. His son looked up at him very relieved as to have avoided another lecture And launched into his arms, wrapping his own as best he could around his fathers strong figure.

“Thanks Bruce, love you”

“Love you too son.now,”

He planted a gentle kiss on the top of Tim’s head

“ go take a shower, we can watch tv later”

“Do I really smell?”

The teen laughed shyly. Feeling at ease with his dad as they walked up the east wing together, on the way passing Damian’s room where they saw Dick and Damian passed out on his giant bed,

“You know he really likes to hug you guys in his sleep” Bruce added

“That explains it…”

TY IF U ACTUALLY READ IR ILY.

Extra context here spoilers too

so I had a lot of subtext that doesn’t make a lot of sense if you’re not me so I’m gonna but it here bc it didn’t fit in the fic,

Bruce already knew everything, he figure it out around the same time as Tim. Which is why when Tim explained it he just nodded along, also why he already knew which boat to look at etc.

dick was already a luh drunk when Tim and Bruce talked to him lmao (which is why he’s a little uncharacteristically angry and also why he fell asleep immediately)

After the argument dick went upstairs to check in Damian because he KNEW that he likes to hug ppl in his sleep, and he knew that since Tim was gone he would wake up soon.

Once they deduced that Tim would be fiineee. They wanted to put him in his own room but were afraid that something would go wrong so they decided to put him in Damian’s room so Damian could cuddle him and at the same time alert anyone if something were to happen.

The mission took place on a late Wednesday night , he passed out and slept through Thursday then woke up like Friday 7pm which is when the final scene takes place. It might not matter but I had a clear vision in my mind

ok yeah thanks for listening also I write a majority of this with a huge huge barring headache so I was projecting my headache onto him. I love him <33 it’s 4 am I have to sleep goodnight I might die of cringe

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