There is something… Wrong… With Drake. Its decidedly unsettling. There is something unnatural about the boy and Damian is unsure why they all ignore it. The Drake boy was always weird but this was different. It had started after they had all returned home from patrol one day. Something about Drake was making the hair on Damian’s arms stand at its end. He did not appreciate the way Drake was looking at him. It felt as though he was being looked at the same way a cat looks at an injured bird.
Damian had tried to talk to Pennyworth about it soon after Father’s return from the timestream but all he had managed from the butler had been, “Master Damian, calling Master Timothy an ‘Uncanny Horror from the pits’ is quite rude and I hope you never mention such a sentiment again.”
So obviously the… Thing… could manipulate minds. No matter! Damian would handle it. The first step? Kill it.
Its a good thing Damian has trained from birth in the League of Assassins. Although, his past attempts had unfortunate results —meaning none— but Damian would persevere. Perhaps keeping a closer eye on It would provide some insight.
Whatever had replaced Drake was terrifying. It. Never. Slept. And it always knew when Damian was watching it. The worst part? It was trying to spend TIME with him. Damian could barely stand to be within five feet of it. Its skin pale, hair pitch black, and its eyes- horrifying. When Damian first arrived at the manor, Drake had clear blue eyes. Now, they appeared dull and glassy. The color seeming as though it leaked out into the Thing’s hideous purple eyebags. Its skin seemed too loose and Its joints bent and stretched grotesquely.
The Thing turned its chair around, taking a break from staring at the computer in the cave. It stretched its spindly arms above its head, arms bending too far in the other direction. It turned to where Damian was hidden in a ledge in the roof of the Batcave.
“Heyyy Damian.” The Thing slurred, its speech slow and unclear. “If you want’d ta watch m’ do casework ya could’ve joined me”
Damian recoiled further into what should have been a flawless hiding space. He wanted to snap back that he didnt need Its company but his tongue seemed glued to the too of his mouth.
The Thing looked right at where Damian had hidden away. “Aww B’by Bat!” It cooed softly, “Come on down. Lets go g’t some hot chocolate from Alfie!”
Damian pressed tighter to the wall, attempting to force out a sentence. “That is quite alright, Drake. I am fine here.” He said attempting to sound steady.
“Well, suit yourself! Gonna go up now.” The Thing stumbled toward the stairs, its footsteps silent even as it walked unsteadily.
Damian didn’t leave his spot until Richard arrived in the cave two hours later.
Poison may actually work, Damian decided. Theoretically. The Thing was only inhabiting Drake’s body. Perhaps if the body died then so would the… Whatever it was. Damian is so prepared, father should be impressed- or he would be when that cursed being was out of the house. But what if someone else drank from the cup meant for Drake? Father would not tolerate a mission gone wrong, especially if Grayson or Pennyworth were harmed.
Then Damian remembered Drake’s travel cup, the one it took to work. That was simple enough. Sneak out to Its car, put the poison in the straw, get out. Yes finally a decent plan. Or at least Damian thought so.
Damian’s plan went off without a hitch. He had gained access to the security cameras within Wayne Enterprises and watched Drake drink the entire cup of poisoned coffee. The issue? The poison had no effect. Not even a stomach ache. Clearly the Thing was immune to poisons.
Perhaps silver would deal some damage.
Damian decided to purchase a silver knife. He had tested it and everything! It was real silver. Much of his savings from his allowance had been spent on the thing but this would be worth it.
People were getting suspicious though. Of Damian. Not of The Thing, to be clear.
How idiotic were these people! And they called themselves ‘Detectives’. No matter, Damian could handle this!
In the books that Damian had found, They mentioned fire as a potential weakness to supernatural creatures. If the silver knife did nothing, Damian would fall back and begin plan C. C for Cocktail. Molotov cocktail, to be exact.
Unfortunately, neither plans B nor C would come to fruition. Damian had been caught before he could even attempt either plan.
“Hey Dami, are you feeling okay?” Richard asked from behind Damian.
Damian didn’t scream. He didn’t! He also didn’t drop his book in surprise.
Richard surged forward to grab Damian before he fell from his spot on top of the T-Rex. “Hey bud, its okay. Its just me.” He soothed, wrapping his arms around Damian and carrying him off the T-Rex. “Why don’t you tell me whats going on?”
Damian gasped wriggling out of Dick’s arms to grab his sketchbook/impromptu demon hunting memoir off the ground where it fell. He clutched the book in his arms. “Nothing is wrong, I was simply lost in thought. You may go.” Damian snapped out, legs shaking and breath uneven.
Dick furrowed his brow, “Ive never seen you this shaken up before, Bitty Bat. Come here, we can talk about this upstairs over some cocoa.”
Damian’s eyes widened, if he could convince Richard then surely the Thing could be taken care of. “Very well, if we must.”
Dick smiled gently, though it seemed a little shaky. ”Up we go then!” Dick exclaimed, grabbing Damian and hoisting him onto his shoulders.
“Richard! this is unbecoming!” Damian squawked, holding onto Dick’s head so he wouldnt fall off.
Instead of replying, Dick just began making airplane noises, running toward the entrance to the manor.
It would have been a sweet moment, had The Thing not been standing right behind the grandfather clock. His sudden appearance had startled Damian so badly he fell backwards off Dick’s shoulders.
Damian braced for impact, expecting to head his head and then tumble down the concrete stairs- only, that didnt happen. The Thing threw itself backwards into the ground, his upper half on the stairs and his lower half on the floor. Damian fell heavily onto the Creature, knocking the wind out of It.
“OH MY GOD! ARE YOU TWO OKAY??!” Dick screeched at the top of his lungs. He picked Damian up off of The Thing and resting him on his hip, offering his other hand to ‘Drake’. Unfortunately, Damian’s adrenaline kicked in.
“PUT ME DOWN THIS INSTANT!” Damian bellowed, squirming out of Dick’s grip. “ITS GOING TO KILL US! WE ANGERED IT AND WE NEED TO GO!” Damian began pulling Dick toward the door of the study.
Alarmed, Dick turned to look closer at Damian. His face was pale, eyes wide and glancing frantically around the room and then back at Tim. Damian was sweating, looking as if he were seconds from bursting into tears. “What are yo-“
“It knows i know” Damian gasped out, pulling desperately at Dick’s arm. “ITS GOING TO KILL ME! WE NEED TO GET SOMEWHERE SAFE!”
Damian was working himself into a panic. Dick threw an apologetic glance at Tim who was brushing himself off and looking bewildered at Damian. Dick turned toward the door, allowing Damian to drag him where he wanted to go.
As soon as Damian was out the door, he took off running, forcing Dick to run with him. They got inside Damian’s room and Dami immediately began barricading the door.
“Damian, what’s going on?” Dick questioned softly.
Instead of answering, Damian started rushing around his room. He pulled the silver knife out from between his mattress and the boxspring, grabbed a lighter and what looked like a molotov cocktail from the top of his closet.
Dick was becoming more alarmed by the second. Why in tarnation did Damian have a molotov cocktail just sitting around??? Dick quickly snatched both objects away from Damian, setting them on top if the highest shelf in the room. It wouldn’t stop Damian for long but it would give Dick some time.
When both objects where taken from Damian, he stopped in his tracks, looking fearfully at Dick. “Did it- Are you…” Damian began sobbing. “I don’t want to die. Please don’t kill me, please! I’ll be an asset to you! I swear it! I’ll be good!” Damian’s pleading and sobbing was met with Dick gently hugging Damian to his chest. And like a puppet with its wires cut, Damian passed out into Dick’s arms.
“Oh shit!” Dick exclaimed. He felt at Damian’s forehead, flinching back at how hot he felt. Dick grabbed his phone and called Bruce. “Hey Bruce, I’m gonna need you to come home. Somethings wrong with Damian.” Dick set Damian on the bed and got to work un barricading the door.
“What happened?” Bruce questioned, sounding more like Batman than Bruce. “Is everyone okay?”
“Dick relayed the events that happened that afternoon while getting Damian down to the cave. He was tucked in to a bed in the med bay, a cold rag set on his forehead.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Bruce murmured into the phone. “Im on my way now. I’ll be there in 15.”
“Bruce, that’s a 30 minute drive.” Dick said incredulously.
“Hnn” Bruce grunted, hanging up.
Dick pinched two fingers to the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on. he turned to see Tim waiting in the doorway.
“Is he okay?” Tim questioned softly.
“I’m not sure. I don’t know what happened.” Dick replied tiredly.
Tim sighed, “I noticed he was acting a little weird, but I kind of just thought I had pissed him off?” Tim said. “He’s been following me around recently. And I think he poisoned my coffee? I mean, maybe it wasn’t him. But, the other day, my coffee tasted weird, I drank it anyway of course, but I felt really sick that night. It probably didn’t work because I built my poison resistance up while I was looking for Bruce but-“ Tim cut off his rambling, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.
Dick sighed, putting his face in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Tim. We were making a lot of progress, before. But now I might need to set the ‘Days Since Last Familicide’ dry erase board back to zero.” Dick said tiredly. “I thought I had finally made him feel safe here.”
Tim looked off to the side, “What if its not either of your faults?” He offered, tilting his head. “Maybe he got injured and never told anyone. here why don’t I draw his blood and I’ll run it through. we’ll be able to tell if he’s been injured or injected with something.”
Dick agreed and Tim ran Damian’s blood. While they waited, sat by Damian’s side and ran his hands through the kid’s hair. Soon enough, the test results were done and Bruce got back.
“Good timing, Bruce.” Tim called, “I was just about to go through the results” he added.
Bruce stalked forward, standing next to Damian and feeling his forehead and cheeks. “When did this fever start?” Bruce questioned softly.
“I dont know, B. I only realized when he passed out earlier.” Dick replied.
Bruce turned and walked towards the computer where the results were, looking through the blood test to figure out what was wrong.
“Bruce, it looks like he got hit with fear toxin.” Tim pointed out. “ Maybe a new strain, a slow-acting one. That would explain why he’s been acting so weird recently. Did you fight Crane on patrol last week?”
Bruce slapped his hand over his face, slowly dragging it down. “We found one of his abandoned labs. We split off for about 10 minutes to check out different rooms. He said he didn’t find anything though.” Bruce said guilty.
Dick cried out, “Bruce that was so stupid! And you didn’t even check him for anything afterwards?”
Bruce shook his head. “I owe him an apology.” He said sadly. He walked over and administered an antidote.
“Well, theres no use dwelling on it now.” Tim pointed out. “Dick and Bruce, you can stay here and wait for the kid to wake up. He seemed the most freaked out by me so I think I’ll go upstairs. I don’t think I’ve slept this week anyway.” Tim muttered that last part, but Bruce and Dick heard it anyway.
“Timmy, what have I told you about staying up that long?” Dick admonished.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll sleep now I guess. If im not awake in 20 hours, wake me up. I have presentations to put together for next week.” Tim said exasperated.
Bruce waved him off, “I’ll take care of it, Chum.”
Tim shot a thumbs up over shoulder and then walked out of the cave.
with the antidote administer, the only thing left to do was wait. When Damian woke up. He began trying to explain that Tim had been taken over by some creature, though, all his evidence was debunked.
“Drake looks like a corpse!” Damian exclaimed.
“Yeah I’ve been telling him to go out in the sun more often. He also just told us he hasn’t slept yet this week and its Friday.” Dick explained calmly.
“Okay, then what about the weird way he moves? I’ve seen him stretch his limbs bend the wrong way” Damian pleaded.
“Tim is hyper mobile, Dami. His joints just do that. It’s honestly a little freaky so I get it. I mean, mine are bendy and all, but not that way.” Dick replied patiently.
Damian looked down, ashamed. “How did he survive the poison? That was League specific.”
Dick thought about his answer for a moment, “Apparently, while he was looking for Bruce, Tim trained up his poison tolerance. I don’t know why he did that or how he got his hands on league poison.”
Damian shoved his face into his hands. “I was going to stab him with a silver knife… and then said him on fire.” Damian said, embarrassed.
“I know. I’m sorry,” Bruce finally spoke up. “All of that is on me. I should’ve had you decontaminated and tested after patrol last week. If I had, then you wouldn’t of had to spend this week scared.”
“I wasn’t scared!” Damian claimed, his face burning.
“Sure bud, but it’s okay if you were.” Dick said gently. “But anyway. We can talk about this later. For now, why don’t I get Alfred to bring you something to eat.”
“That would be acceptable, I suppose.”
——
(later over comms)
Tim: Yo Jason I gotta tell you how I wouldve been murdered this time
Jason: How?
Tim: Demon Brat made me my very own molotov cocktail!
Jason: *dies of laughter* HOLY SHIT!
Damian: Cease this senseless mockery!
Jason: No, kid, its badass *laughs more* priceless.
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I relate to Tim partially because I, too, was ignored most of my childhood, and so speaking from that I feel like there are a couple stages that kids go through when they're neglected. I'm not naming all of them, but I'll name a few along with some situations I think Tim would have gotten himself into during those stages. (obviously talking abt parents who do neglect kids, not all parents but if I say parents, I mean the neglectful ones)(also the age ranges/"stages" are all based on personal experience + what i've witnessed, not saying any of this is fact)(+ if I get any personality traits/time stamps wrong w Tim pls don't come for me lmao but feel free to correct me in comments)(long post incoming)
So #1 we've got confusion. Basically, at some point between the ages of 2-5, I feel like that's when parents usually start to neglect their kids (can happen sooner or later but, generalizing). So the kid goes from moderate amount of attention and receiving affection, to a lack thereof. Sometimes the kid will continue to expect affection and when they don't receive it, this can leave the kid wondering what they could have done wrong to cause this.
I feel like one day, Tim (around age 3) goes to lay in bed and is expecting his mom to come and tuck him in/give him a goodnight kiss, and he just stays laying there for almost an hour. At some point he gets up to check if she's coming and she's already gone to bed. Tim knocks on the door, no response. Understandably upset, he goes back to bed and attempts to tuck himself in before giving up and laying in bed, crying himself to sleep. The next day he tries making his mom a card telling her how much he loves her, thinking that will fix his non-existent "mistake", and she accepts it kindly enough, but he finds it later that day in the trash.
Ok on to #2, we've got a mix of denial and the beginnings of acting out. This might happen between 4-7, the kid doesn't know how to deal with the neglect, so they act like it's not happening. They've adjusted to less affection but they're still so eager when they receive any bit of it, and they still offer hugs and cards when they think that will help things. If someone asked them if their parents loved them, they'd confidently answer yes. But there's still that pit in their stomach, like they can't do enough to get that love and affection back, so they find another way they think could work. It's not necessarily a conscious decision, to act out. Could be the kid is a little fussier in the morning, hoping their parent will offer to hold their hand on the walk to the bus. Could be the kid saying they don't feel well at school so their parent will come pick them up. Could be seeming like a "distraction" or "nuisance" because the kid keeps trying to make conversation or make funny faces during dinner.
I think little Tim would try and hug his parents each morning before school, going as far as being late to school because his dad had an important phone call and Tim sat there waiting for him to hang up. Tim would probably leave his lunch bag at home on purpose just so he would have to call his mom and ask her to bring it to school for him. She'd end up asking a nanny to send it for her, or just telling Tim to get a lunch from the cafeteria instead.
#3 is more obvious attempts at gaining attention. Probably from anywhere within ages 7-12, the kid will still preen at affection, but they're less likely to seek it from their parents. They might even outright dismiss any potential affection from their parents because they feel like it's not genuine or that they don't deserve it. The kid will likely try to get attention and affection from a teacher/authority figure, but they may also like attention from peers. This may lead to the kid either seeming to be a "class clown" or just a "class nuisance", that or a teacher's pet. They may still act out by faking an illness or being more irritable, but they could go further towards things like knocking stuff over and causing a scene, bullying peers, or interrupting the teacher to tell jokes.
I feel like Tim might try the joke route, while also being a teacher's pet with certain teachers. He'd do the jokes in a subtle way where it's not outright loud and attention seeking, but where people still know it's him. He might be the type to draw a caricature of a teacher he dislikes on the board before class, or put gum on the bully's desk chair so it gets on their pants, or pass around a silly joke on a paper. He might get himself into trouble with the principal, or get bullied more by some peers, for his various antics, but never bad enough that his parents are called. If they threaten to call his parents, he reminds them that either they're A) out of the country and would be of no use or B) that they fund the school (or smth like that, maybe Tim just straight up pays them not to call his parents). Teacher's Pet Tim would only happen with one teacher I think, probably the art teacher or maybe English. It'd be something where he'd start joking in that class but right as that teacher says so, he'll calm right down and be super respectful loll.
#4 is basically all of the teenage years. This can vary a lot from person to person so i'm hesitant to label this, so i'm just gonna talk about what I think Tim would/does do. So at this point in time, around 13 years old, he's pretty much given up on his parents. He could give less of a shit about what they think (or at least that's what he tells himself). So during this time, he's started following Batman and Robin, bouncing around rooftops and photographing them and whatnot. His parents don't notice, and if they ever asked he'd have "i'm sleeping over at a friend's house" prepared as an excuse. During this time, he's distant from his parents and while Batman has become that authority figure that he looks up to, he's not close with Batman either. I think this would lead to him feeling exceptionally lonely, and while he still has friends, he doesn't ask to hang out near as much as he used to. Whenever they ask, he usually rejects and says he's busy that night, even on nights he wasn't planning to go out and do photography. On those nights, he mostly lays in bed either doom scrolling through blogs and news stories about vigilantes, or just listening to music. This span of time finds Tim occupied with art, photography, laying in bed, listening to music, and finding out secret identities.
Once he becomes Robin, he's far happier than before. Finally a vigilante, he's become the thing he looked up to for years. But there's downsides, besides the obvious horrible things he witnesses of course. He wants to reconnect with those friends he pushed away when he was in that depressive slump, but he can't just say "Hey batman, i'm taking a night off from patrol!", and this leads to his friends making rumors or just being suspicious in general. They realize he seems happier, but he still can't hang out? He dodges questions? Why is that? They begin to rely on him less, not inviting him to things because they already assume he won't be able to go. While he's happy, he still feels far too lonely.
But he's a vigilante now. He tells himself he doesn't have time for being lonely or feeling unloved. So he'll push down that urge to receive a hug from his mother, he'll ignore the pride he feels when he receives a sliver of attention from Batman or his teachers, he'll try not to feel lonely when his friends mention shows or movies he hasn't had time to catch up on yet, he'll hope Batman ignored those times he slipped and called him "Dad", and he'll ignore that pit in his soul that's been there since he was 6 years old and never really healed.
He's a vigilante now, he doesn't have time to want (need) affection.
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