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#happy fir pri and one year timberversary everybody (ಥ‿ಥ)
striveattemptfail · 2 years
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Better and Brighter | Timber, PG, 3k
Summary: A look at everything that happened between Tim and Bernard from Bernard’s perspective. Posted for Bernard Week 2022: Fill The Blanks. Warning: Discusses school shooting + canon death of a character, as well as canon cult activities, but is not overly descriptive for any of these. Contains spoilers for Robin (1993), Batman: Urban Legends #4-6, and “Special Delivery” by Travis Moore in DC Pride 2022. Read on Ao3
A/N: Listen y'all, I tried to get this out for the end of this past pride, and when I missed that I aimed for Timberversary, and when I missed that I tried shooting for Day 7 of @bernarddowdweek​​. Alas, Bernard did not wanna shut up and took what should’ve been a 700-word fic to 3k, so now I am posting this a week after the anniversary /o\
Thank you to @saturniiids​ for the exceptionally quick beta~! Shout out to the Lightbulb Moment server for listening to my bitching as I tried to finish this fic lol. All other mistakes are mine.
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In hindsight, Bernard maybe should’ve been tipped off that he was at least a little bit queer when, on the dude’s first day of school, he checked out Tim Drake from head-to-toe.
“Your eyes are clear and you lack the telltale hemp-ish smell that would place you with the Heads.”
Dark blue eyes. Not quite as striking as the clear sky above us, but notable nonetheless. He smells like shampoo and fresh laundry—and maybe a little bit of sweat.
“You could be a jock—you look ripped enough—but then again there’s all those books to consider.”
Well-fitted tee over muscles that are clearly stretching the fabric. Perhaps an athlete with a secret?
“You are an enigma, grasshopper.”
This is a guy I want to know better, he thought.
“Name’s Bernard Dowd, by the way. Bernard, got it? Call me Bernie and I’ll have to punish you.” Bernard handed back the newbie’s schedule with a small grin.
He was met with an obliging smile and a flash of amusement in the newbie’s gaze.
“Tim Drake.”
“Glad to meet you, Timmy.”
“Tim.”
His grin widened.
“See? We’re getting along already.”
And in less than five minutes of meeting him, Bernard had his arm around Tim’s shoulders.
It was a full assessment and glowing review—he should have probably picked up that this wasn’t exactly something a straight man would do to anyone, unless they were completely obnoxious.
(To be fair, Bernard knew he was pretty presumptuous back in high school. He wasn’t a jerk about it though.)
Time went on, and days at Louis E. Grieve blurred from one into the next. Classes and teachers and crushing on Darla from afar was his normal. Sometimes the only thing worth remembering about his days was Tim and the tall tales he came up with. Frequent absences and constantly marred skin was totally different from what Bernard was used to. Tim’s lies about being on the gymnastics team with friends from his old boarding school were easy to see through, but Bernard was a patient man and figured Tim would tell him what was going on eventually.
Patience was how he finally got the chance to speak to Darla, after all. (Well, aside from Tim’s crazy stunt confronting the giant jocks surrounding her.) Bernard knew she wasn’t into him, but he could be patient and wait for her crush on Tim to wane. Tim was smart and cool, sure, and objectively attractive to top it off (how did he find the time to work out?), but Bernard knew he still had a chance because Tim apparently had a girlfriend.
He was genuinely curious about the elusive “Stephanie” Tim so often talked about. She sounded almost too good to be true, and Bernard remembered calling him out on it.
“I’m happily involved with someone else,” Tim had reminded him.
Bernard resisted rolling his eyes. “So you keep saying, but where is this mysterious Stephanie Whatshername? Why have I never met her?”
It’s because she’s not real, he thought knowingly, or because “Stephanie” is actually a “Stephen”.
Bernard was a conspiracy theorist—he knew how to deduce things. But he was also a pretty chill dude, and he figured he’d let Tim know that the poor guy didn’t have to keep lying about a fake relationship just to cover up his sexuality.
He had patted Tim’s shoulder reassuringly. “If you got something you wanna tell me, then speak up. We’re buds. I’ll understand.” He gestured to himself. “We’re two modern, enlightened men in the new millennium, Drake. No need to make up imaginary girlfriends.”
This should’ve been another (rainbow) flag. He had always considered himself an ally—he was never a homophobic asshole—but maaaybe he could have picked up on why he was so adamant that he was really cool with it if Tim ever came out to him.
And, okay, he also had a thing for hot women. He could cut himself a little slack. Darla Aquista was the hottest girl at school; he would’ve admitted that even after his feelings about her changed from a crush to something more platonic. If he was being honest, she was still just as attractive once she got mystical powers and became Laura Fell. He also wasn’t lying when he said that Tim’s stepmom was hot—indeed, the Drake men were very lucky guys—and he still won’t apologize for sort-of ogling her when he had dinner at Tim’s place.
“Bernard, take my advice,” Tim had warned in a low voice. “You really need to stop talking, right now.”
He did, and he and Tim played the new Batman and Robin game Bernard got his hands on.
It probably should have tipped him off when he thought Tim’s angry pout was cute though.
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Bernard lost himself when Darla died.
One moment he was walking the halls and the next he was in the nurse’s office because Darla had been shot.
He had never felt so helpless in his life.
When Tim left the room, armed with nothing but a bloody t-shirt and a wooden baseball bat, Bernard couldn’t even bring himself to stop him. It was obviously a suicide mission, but Bernard could do nothing but lock the door as asked once Tim left.
He found out later that Tim was the reason Darla even made it to the school. Someone (Tyrone?) said that Tim had acted heroically despite the madness around them. Bernard almost wished he could have seen it, seen Tim apparently kicking ass in action, but it wouldn’t have changed the fact that he lost a friend.
He saw Tim at Darla’s funeral, but he didn’t look like he wanted to see anyone.
And neither did Bernard.
He was transferred to a private school by the next week, and for a long while it was the last time he saw Tim.
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It was after what happened at Louis Grieve that Robin—his Robin, the one before the girl Robin—was back in action. By that point, he’d never actually met Robin before, and he still vehemently believed that Batman replaced Robins with new orphans, but somehow Bernard recognized him. Something about the way this Robin moved, the way he immediately slunk away before anyone could even get a clear picture of him, that made Bernard sure it was the Robin he was most familiar with. The forums he frequented disagreed, but Bernard knew better.
He started to obsess over Robin—his Robin, not the new one, the smaller, younger one with a sword that showed up later—and the way he worked with the urban legend that was the Batfamily. He learned what made this Robin different, his quick movements and fighting style. He didn’t quite have the grace of one of the previous Robins, or the acrobatic strength of another Robin, or even the ruthlessness of the latest Robin. But there was an efficiency that was distinguishable to Bernard. He could think fast and follow through even when things went sideways.
This fixation filled his days. It distracted him from the pain of losing Darla, the shock of getting her back (sort of), the whirlwind of her leaving him again (though at least not dead this time), the blur that was his new life at a different school.
And it helped keep his mind off how much he really missed Tim.
Bernard missed messing around and playing games with him. He missed being able to talk for hours on end about the latest conspiracy theory he came across, even if Tim mostly just laughed at most of them. Bernard missed the easy way he could throw an arm around him or bump their shoulders together.
Again, in hindsight, all of this probably spoke volumes about his own sexuality. It was one thing to be inspired by Robin’s heroics and take self-defense classes; it was another to study Robin’s specific fighting style. It was one thing to miss a close friend like Tim after he switched schools; it was another to think about him all the time.
And Bernard did think about Tim. He thought about Tim a lot.
And because he was already familiar with forums and the vast wide world of the web, he took to the boards once more to figure out what the hell he was feeling.
It didn’t take long for him to realize he was bi. Girls were still plenty attractive to him, but there was no mistaking that he had affection for guys too.
(Or, at least, one specific guy.)
He came out not long after his revelation because, after everything that happened at Louis Grieve, he didn’t want to hold back anymore. Besides, if Robin(s) could fight every night against some of the most horrific rogues around, he figured being openly queer was a cake walk.
He was a man of the new millennium, after all.
He changed up his wardrobe and style, swapping his biker shades for ear cuffs; trimmed his hair down to a shorter, messy mop. He dated around for a bit, men and women alike. He even went to his school’s pride celebration.
Nothing stopped him from missing Tim and Darla (Laura, he had to remind himself, it’s Laura now) and how things used to be, but the changes helped. Investigating new theories (Robin-related or not), training in self-defense classes, discovering himself, meeting new people—it was his new normal.
Despite how busy he now was, it still took probably longer than it should have to get back in touch with Tim. Between the big adoption announcement into the Wayne family and becoming a shareholder in Wayne Enterprises, Tim Wayne definitely had public profiles online, but Bernard knew that his attempts to contact Tim through those accounts would’ve probably gone into a spam inbox before Tim could even see it.
Tim Drake was a little harder to track down.
Bernard was nervous about his search—so much time had already passed and the event that separated them was so traumatic. Would Tim remember him? Would he even give Bernard the time of day? What if things became too awkward between them? Would he look Bernard in the eye and only remember what happened at Louis Grieve? The answers left Bernard anxious with every page he swiped through, made him slow down as he scrolled past different accounts.
But Bernard wasn’t about to quit, and despite his worries, he still really missed his friend.
After some sleuthing around and hopping between social media profiles, he eventually managed to DM Tim on Pixtagraph. Bernard wasn’t even 100% sure if the account was active seeing as its last post was a few years ago, but it was the best lead he had, so he took a shot.
By some stroke of luck, Tim responded in less than a day, and the two of them decided to meet up for a casual dinner by the next week.
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Reconnecting with Tim was—
—kinda amazing.
He was as smart and dorky as Bernard remembered him. He was still easy to tease and poke fun at, and still took Bernard’s jokes in stride. A little less sure of himself unlike when they were in high school together, but still just as driven.
(Just as cute too, if Bernard was being honest, but that would’ve been jumping the gun.)
Then the Chaos Monsters crashed their date, and more than anything Bernard wished he had contacted Tim earlier, if only so they could have spent a little more time together.
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It was a combination of reading through discussion boards and talking to new friends that he learned about the Children of Dionysus. He might have made some peace with his sexuality and what happened in the past, but that didn’t mean he was set for the rest of his life.
It turned out a lot of other people felt the same way too.
It was—exhilarating. Letting everything go, having the pain focus his mind, being able to heighten his own pain tolerance during fights. It was called a “cult”, but Bernard only ever thought of it like a BDSM club, just less sexual and open to people his age. He thought that, while the leaders were a bit cold, they were still charismatic and persuasive, and he eagerly wanted to soak up their promises. He thought the “Chaos Monsters” were only overdramatic bodyguards who made sure everyone kept quiet about their little gatherings.
Stupid, he knew now.
And he was proven exactly how stupid that was when he was publicly kidnapped. The cult leaders decided he was going to be a sacrifice, and the Chaos Monsters were ready to oblige. He was incredibly lucky that Robin came in the nick of time, and Bernard very much learned his lesson about the slippery slope that was joining a cult.
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After the whole ordeal with the Children of Dionysus, things got easier.
It wasn’t perfect. Missed dates happened more often than both he and Tim liked, but Bernard figured being a son of The Bruce Wayne was a lot to deal with. It was also clear that Tim was still hiding things from him, but just like back in high school when he spotted Tim’s scars and bruises, just like at Darla’s funeral, Bernard didn’t push. Tim was planning to stick around, and so was Bernard—he’d talk to Bernard eventually, or Bernard would coax it out of him.
He was patient with Darla (Laura); he could be patient with Tim too.
Bernard loved whatever time he did get with him. Between movie dates and diner visits, he enjoyed every moment he spent with Tim.
It was a bit weird, but in a good way, in the best way. They were getting to know each other again, but it also felt like they were falling right back into how things used to be.
Now with more handholding.
There was never a dull moment, and Bernard never knew he could be this happy, this comfortable with someone. He spent so long trying to make up for everything he lost since Louis Grieve, having someone—having Tim—to enjoy his time with...
He didn’t have the words to describe how lucky he felt.
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Tim was late. Again. Bernard was very used to this. He would be more worried, if only because the reason why his boyfriend was late again was because of some rogue criminals blocking the streets by the Narrows.
Macro and micro robbery cutting the roads off from the parade. Will be late. Sorry. Sad face.
(Tim used text-to-speech to send his messages, Bernard had learned. Tim said it was because he usually got around on his motorcycle—which Bernard had conveniently never seen—but the written out emojis were kinda endearing nonetheless.)
Bernard typed out a quick response:
It’s okay. I’ll meet you at the park. Thumbs up. LOL. ;P
Tim sent back a middle finger (the actual emoji this time) and Bernard couldn’t help but laugh.
When Tim finally caught up to where Bernard was watching Gotham’s pride parade, the little speech he opened with was really sweet. He started recalling their dates, even the disaster that was Bernard getting kidnapped by Chaos Monsters; he talked about how their relationship had been a journey of discovery, not unlike Bernard’s own; and for as rehearsed as it sounded, Bernard could tell that Tim meant every word he was saying.
“—know how my life is, how hectic it can be. I was afraid I’d let you down. And I have. Repeatedly. And I’m sorry—”
He had half a mind to slap a hand over Tim’s mouth because he was rambling, but honestly Bernard was charmed by how nervous Tim was, and he wanted to know where his little speech was going.
“—want you to know I’m so happy to have you—”
Bernard was suddenly filled with warmth, and he was pretty sure it wasn’t because of the summer sun shining down on them. Between Tim’s words and the earnestness in his voice, all Bernard could feel how happy he really was, same as Tim.
“—which is why I’m giving you this.”
Tim held his hands out to present a white box, which Bernard took from him before flipping the top open with excited curiosity.
It was a cake, or at least three-quarters of one. The right side was pretty ruined. The text written in different coloured frosting was now cut off with the crumbled corner, and the rainbow sprinkles mushed together in the mess.
It was adorable.
“How did you know it was my ‘Fir Pri’?” Bernard smirked down at his gift, his heartbeat fluttering despite the mistakes. Sure, the cake was a bit destroyed, and, yeah, he’d already been to pride before.
But he loved it all the same.
He thought about going to his school’s pride celebration, really confronting the fact that his feelings for Tim and admiration for Robin wasn’t just friendly affection. He thought about his time in the Dionysus cult, and how close he got to losing everything, again.
As he examined the cake, Tim—of course—started babbling again. “It’s supposed to say ‘Happy First Pride,’ but it had a rough journey getting here.”
Bernard thought about how the years have passed for him, how they were once filled with loss and regret, then eventually enlightenment and discovery. He thought about how it all led to finding his way back to Laura, and Tim.
“And I baked it myself, so it wasn’t all that pretty to begin with, to be honest.”
Bernard shifted his gaze from the cake to his boyfriend, who looked sheepish and a little apologetic.
“It’s perfect and I love it,” he said with certainty, “flaws and all.”
He meant it too. Even though this wasn’t technically his first pride celebration, it was his first pride with someone he really liked.
It was his first pride with Tim.
And that was still pretty special all on its own.
He pulled Tim close, pressing his forehead against Tim’s, their noses almost brushing from the closeness. His smile twisted from amused to fond.
“It was definitely worth the wait.”
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