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Bruce hated going to galas with Tim. Sure, Damian glared and snarled at everyone in the room, and Jason spent the entire car ride back ranting about so- and so, and Dick would hang from the chandelier afterwards, drawing from some endless reservoir of energy, but Tim-
Was a nightmare.
Bruce would willingly admit his personality switch was worrying. He had two different personas in his head who he switched back and forth with. Brucie was vapid and flighty where Batman was stern and strong. Bruce was the third personality, who he really was, the inbetween and underneath. It was the father in him.
It was also the father in him that was tempted to grab Tim and drive far, far, way from Gotham before they could make it to the party. Hey, maybe even New Jersey. Really, why not the entire East Coast. They could go to Smallville maybe. Tim liked the Super kid, they’d just live there forever. Anything not to have to see Tim at any other party.
The boys stood in line, all dressed in tuxes, youngest to oldest. Bruce’s heart warmed a little. It’d been a long time since all his boys were there. Jason stood proud and tall, Dick had come back home. Even Damian had lost some of his feralness. And Bruce, after jumping timestreams, after traveling through the ages, got to be here with them. Life could not get any better. Then he remembered Tim.
It was going to be a nightmarish night.
“Alright boys! Let’s go!”
He strode out of the room, and Tim, Damian, and Jason followed him. Dick stayed right where he was, though.
“Grayson, we must leave.”
Dick looked conflicted, eyes darting between Tim and Bruce. “Is… Tim coming with us?”
“Oof Dick. I mean, do you want me to stay behind?” Tim snarked.
“Yeah Dick, Replacement needs a least one sibling who likes him, and it sure as shi- I mean, sure as shipping lanes ain’t gonna me.”
Bruce sighed. Dick was the only one who’d ever attended a gala with Tim. He understood. “Yes. It’s necessary for all of us to attend.”
Dick shot him a panicked look, but joined the line. Just before they all got into the car though, Dick tugged Bruce’s sleeve so they could have a quick, quiet conversation alone.
“You’re not really doing this, are you?” Dick hissed. “I don’t want the other two traumatized!”
“I don’t have a choice. I don’t like it any more than you do, but all of us need to be present.”
“You’re going to regret that.”
They got in, ignoring the weird looks from all the other kids. They also ignored the argument going on in the back on some Star Wars detail. Both men needed as much energy for the night to come as they could get.
“Hey, Pretender, you ok?”
It had begun.
“Fine, yeah, why?”
“You’ve just got this… weird feeling about you.”
“I could say the same about you, but all the time.”
“Indeed Todd, you are perhaps the strangest of us, and not in a good way.”
“Hey!”
There were scuffles in the back seat, voices, and a shriek of rage from Damian. Bruce took a deep breath as the car stopped. Every few seconds the dark interior was illuminated by camera flashes.
“Okay boys, let’s go.”
They clambered out of the car, immediately assaulted by voice and light.
“Mr. Wayne, what do you have to say about your son coming back from the-”
“Mr. Wayne, what is your stance on the alleged rumors about your youngest-”
“Mr. Drake- Wayne, how are you going to deal with your secretary’s blackmail charges?”
No. No no no no. He thought they would avoid this, if only for a few more minutes-
But Tim simply swept past with a “No comment.”
They got into the building easily enough, before both Tim and Bruce were beset.
“Timothy, it has been so long since we’ve seen you at one of these!” Yeah, Bruce thought sourly , that’s on purpose. “Parties are far more fun with you around. And did you see Sharon’s dress? Rather forward of her, to say the least.”
“What’s Sharon wearing?” Tim craned his neck, then evidently spotted her. “Goodness! Forward is one way to put it. Not really this season, either. Reminds me of the time Ms. White wore that dress to the gala last year. I mean, no wonder she’s single.”
The other lady twittered with laughter, pulling him away. Chittering back, Tim allowed himself to be swallowed into the sea of people, each group instantly parting for him to pass. Their faces actually lit up as he passed, as though he was the honoured guest. A group of people descended upon him, the biggest names and largest fortunes, the ‘it’ group of middle school.
Jason looked a little shocked.
“Is he okay?”
Ah. So he’d seen it too.
Tim’s face was…. Not his face. A blindingly bright smile lit it up, and his shockingly bright blue intelligent eyes were dimmed. His aura screamed power and sophistication, his stance one of dominance and ‘I’ll humor you, for now’. What Dick had once described as an ‘adorable face, Timmy, come here, I want to snuggle it’, was now sharp and mature. Like a computer powering on, the persona was put on the moment they entered, along with that horribly fake smile. You’d never know it was fake unless you spent more than a few hours with Tim. It reminded him of the time Dick had been rambling about the Brucie smile, and Tim had said he had one of those too, the Drake smile, the company smile. Dick had thought he was joking. Dick was very, extremely, so incredibly wrong.
“Did he get… gassed or something? Joker gas?” Jason continued.
Dick sighed, already rubbing his forehead for the headache that was to come. “No. There’s a reason I dislike watching Tim at galas.”
“That was… unnatural. Creepy as the Shining. What the heck is wrong with his motherfu- uh, Faulkner's hit novel face? Like a freakin' Lovecraft story.”
“Does Drake have an unknown multiple personality disorder?” Damian asked, narrowing his eyes to where Tim had swayed off to.
“No. Just… schmooze. We’ll talk about it later.”
And with that, they split up. Bruce plunged right into the middle, immediately connecting with old friends. It was familiar, normal, but every time he caught a glimpse of Tim with that freaky smile on his face (and Jason was right, it was like something out of a Lovecraft story, except you wouldn’t know it was fake unless you’d seen Tim’s real smile) he nearly jumped out of his skin. It was… unsettling.
Only half an hour had passed before Dick sidled up to him.
“We gotta get him out of here.” He whispered. “I don’t think I can take this anymore.”
“What’d he do?”
“You remember Mrs. Vanhelk?” Unfortunately, yes. “Well, she walked up to Tim, and they spent an entire ten mintue conversation discussing the Igleberts son’s alcoholism problem. He was gossiping, Bruce. Gossiping. I don’t even know how he knows about this guy.”
“It doesn’t seem that bad-”
“He told her it was-” His voice took on a sugary quality. “‘Such a shame, really. What is modern society coming to? Sometimes I think we should all just move back to England!’. And then they laughed, B. Laughed. Like little birds. I didn’t think Tim could reach that high of a pitch.”
“Nothing we can do, Dick. Soon. Just hang in there.” Bruce said, patting his eldest's shoulder in solidarity.
“If you’d seen it, B, you’d be pulling him out.”
Bruce admitted to himself he probably would. But he hadn’t, so he was going to keep going.
“Sorry Dick. Only a few more hours.”
Dick grumbled a bit, but eventually floated off elsewhere. His eldest was actually a people person, unlike the weird people… magnet Tim became at these events. It was as though they were genuinely excited to see him, and Tim was genuinely excited to see them.
Bruce’s eye was twitching at the thought.
Only an hour had passed since they’d arrived before Jason caught him and dragged him over to the buffet table.
“Ya gotta get us outta here.” He hissed, grip tight on Bruce’s arm.
“Why? Is everything ok? Are you ok? Do you need to leave? If you need to leave, I can arrange something, we can-”
“It’s not me! It’s the Replacement!”
“Oh.”
“Don’t give that bunch of baloney, B. There’s something wrong with him! He’s mind controlled! Or possessed! With a socialite demon!”
Bruce sighed. “He’s always been like this, Jay. What did you see that freaked you out so much?”
“He’s always been like this!? What the heck did his parents do to him? It’s straight out a freaking horror movie!” Jason exclaimed, stuffing another cookie in his mouth.
“What’d he do?”
“Ya know that one creep over there with the suspicious lookin’ tux? The one with the creepy green eyes that's like thirty years old who always looks at girl's breasts and flirts with all the sixty year old women? Well, he got to talkin’ to Timmers, and then he freakin’ asked him out. Like that. Tim laughed and told him he was a little young to be datin’. Then the perp went and got him a drink, but these other girls ambushed him and basically told him to ‘lay off their Timmy’. Then they got with Timbo and they all started trashin’ him. Tim doesn’t trash people, B. Tim just takes insults with that enigmatic smile and looks all mysterious and vague. He doesn’t lay into people behind their backs. B, ya gotta stop him. Before he turns into a-” he shuddered “socialite.”
Bruce sighed. “Too late for that.“
“No, B. There’s still time. We just gotta bust him outta here. I swear, that creepy smile will haunt my dreams for weeks already, I don’t need to have it imprinted in my brain forever.”
“You’ll be fine, Jay. He’s fine too, even if it’s a bit….” He cringed when he saw that bright company smile. “Terrifying. Look, we’ll leave an hour early, okay?”
“Ya better, or me an’ Dick’re gonna kidnap him.”
His second eldest went back to perusing the buffet table in an attempt to fill his bottomless stomach. Bruce grabbed some escargot before escaping the panicked glances from his son.
It was two hours in when Damian approached him.
“Father, there is something… off about Drake.”
“What do you mean?”
Again, Damian hesitated. It was not often Damian hesitated. He had little patience, an endless annoyance to Bruce who had gone from Tim ‘I can put up with my grief-crazed mentor for as long as it takes and never show him how sad I am inside’ Drake (Don’t worry, he figured out the sad bit later) to Damian ‘I am fire, I am rage, you will know of my wrath, and here, let me try to kill your son’ Al Ghul. Needless to say, it had been a bit of an adjustment. So if Damian was hesitating, it was a matter that demanded his attentions.
“He is not himself.” Damian finally muttered.
Yes, he'd thought that was obvious. “You’re going to have to be more specific.”
“Drake does not participate in social activities. Drake is a self proclaimed loner. And Drake just got himself invited to, and accepted, the book club that Mrs. Vanhelk hosts.” Damian announced.
Oh no. The Vanhelk book club. It was infamous, a cult almost, extremely difficult to get into. One person a year, maybe, was asked. It was a mark of honor among the women of Gotham elite. Yes, women. No male had ever been invited.
“And then they embarked on a conversation on how no true household could have less than seven rooms and a maid service.” Damian continued
Oh dear.
“And then they discussed how renting was distasteful, and that if you were going to get a house, might as well buy it.”
Goodness, this was a mess.
“Drake does not share those opinions. Drake is a charitable person who believes in supporting the middle class and people in poverty. What is wrong?’
“Well…. He does this every time. Look, Damian, Tim was raised by upper class parents, this is the way he’s always acted.” Bruce explained.
“It’s not right.” Damian declared, and walked away.
And that was that, Bruce supposed. It couldn’t be going that horribly, could it? It wasn’t like Bruce had been avoiding Tim the whole night. No, of course not. And to prove it, he’d go check on Tim. Everything was probably fine.
Bruce reached Tim. He flinched a little at the sight.
“Mrs. Youngers, you’re so sweet!” His voice was several octaves higher than it should be. “If only there were more ladies like you.”
The older lady in question giggled and leaned on his arm a bit too much. “Timothy, you big flatterer. You’d make your mother proud, bless her soul.”
Nope. That was it. Bruce could not, would not, did not stand for Tim to be compared to his parents. Jack was bad enough, with his neglectful and angry ways. Janet somehow was worse. He’d only met her a few times, but her sharp smiles and icy glares were hidden by a company face. Tim rarely talked about her, but when he did, it was never anything good. Just something like- ‘There was one Christmas where they were late, you know, like usual, got there on the 27th, but Mom actually got me something, which was pretty cool. A stuffed gorilla, I think. Probably bought it from the airport. But it wasn’t cash, so that was pretty cool.’ Bruce had sat down with Tim for a long talk after that.
“Tiger!” He slurred, falling into the gaggle of people around Tim. “I feel a little bit woozy.”
You can get drunk after only two hours at a party, right?”
“Oh! It appears Daddy dearest needs my attention. Well ladies, that’s my cue to go. See you soon!”
“Take care, Timmy.”
“Timothy, don’t forget to stop by for book club.”
“Till next time.”
The smile Tim sent the group was frighteningly genuine looking. Bruce allowed Tim to lead him away until they were in a sheltered alcove. Dick, Jason, and Damian all spotted them leaving the floor and trailed after them like little ducklings. Bruce straightened up, suddenly in control, as soon as they were out of sight.
“Bruce? What’s going on?”
“Did you just call me Daddy- dearest?”
Jason hid a snort as Damian pulled a disgusted face.
“Oh, yeah sorry. Did something happen? Breakout?”
“No, it’s okay.” I kinda liked it Bruce doesn’t add. “We’re just leaving.”
“Why?”
“We’re leaving.”
Tim shot him a confused look and muttered something about how they never seemed to stay the full party. Wonder why, chum. Difficult to guess. Has nothing to do with that so-white-it-burns-your-eyes smile.
The other three all looked immensely grateful. They dragged Tim out to the car, but he still seemed to be stuck in the persona, and chattered on and on about some girl’s dress. Listening carefully, Bruce could hear as Jason leaned over to Damian and said “I’ve never heard him talk so much in my life. Or my other one.”
Jason could never resist a death joke.
They all clambered out of the car, and the smile fell from Tim’s face like someone flipped a switch. The whole group collectively gave a sigh of relief. Switching so fast gave Bruce whiplash, sometimes. His whole air fell apart until it dissolved into Tim. Just Tim. Their Tim.
Dick dragged Tim upstairs, calling for a family movie night. Jason agreed, something about needing to wipe away the memories of tonight, and Damian grumbled, but came along. They all crashed into the couch, Tim at the center, smooshed between Dick and Jason, Damian sitting down by Dick’s feet. Bruce was off to the side in the chair, looking with a hint of relief at the sight of the normal, non- fake person named Tim in the room. Voices drifted as they argued over movie choice, but eventually settled on Up.
Dick unashamedly hugged Tim tight for the first five minutes, citing some baloney story about how this part always made him cry. Jason slowly, carefully, settled his arm around Tim a while later, almost imperceptibly pulling him into his side. The boy seemed a bit bewildered by this phenomenon, but enjoyed it all the same. What really got the kid scared was when Damian got up for the bathroom and patted Tim on the shoulder.
Tim had mumbled: “Death is coming for me.”
By the end of the movie, every single one of his kids was conked out on the couch. Bruce couldn’t be happier watching them. Actually…
He padded closer, then wrested Tim out from under the pile of limbs that was Dick Grayson. He picked him up, then sat back on the chair, a sleeping Tim on his lap. Idly, he petted his hair. The energy of before was gone, replaced with Tim's quietness, a silence that always seemed comfortable. He'd never get tired of how Tim never required more for an interaction than for him to simply exist and be there. Except when he was sleep deprived. That was worse that galas.
Bruce's eye twitched at the thought, then refocused back on his second youngest. There was a slight smile on his face, the soft smile Bruce associated with coffee and late mornings and detailed case reports.
He liked it far better than the company smile.
This was Tim’s smile.