Robin!Tim - Tumblr Posts
When the door opens, a lot of thoughts rush through Tim's head at lightning speed. If any telepaths were near, he's sure his mind would have given them mental whiplash because he felt like he was going Mach 20 from what the fuck to a very natural oh my god Bruce is going to fuck this up and ending up at I know exactly what to do in about five seconds.
A haughty looking Prince watched them with a straight spine and a scowl on his lips as he stood- proudly, happily, next to Talia Al Ghul who looks just as royal and proud beside him.
"I thought you'd be taller, Father."
If anything was different- anything at all, he's sure this scenario would have gone wrong.
Had Tim been any less prepared then he was anyways.
Because Tim is not oblivious to the fact that as Bruce has already allowed three children into his life in the past- it would make sense that Bruce would follow the trend and collect more as time went on.
Tim is prepared. He lived alone for the first thirteen years of his life wishing for a younger sibling to watch over and he has made plans for every scenario that he could possibly conceive.
His plans got even more convoluted as he joined the Wayne family and he promised himself that his relationship with his successor would be the best in the family because he wants to win at being a big brother.
He has been training for this his entire life.
So when Bruce- oh poor emotionally constipated Bruce who deflects big emotions with anger -looks at Talia with fire in his eyes at what Tim is sure is a valid anger about having a very clearly his child hidden from him for a decade opens his mouth, Tim does the smart thing and slaps his hand over Bruce's mouth without any hesitation or care.
Talia lifts an eyebrow in amusement as the young Prince's eyes widen fractionally in surprise.
Bruce goes back to being a still life painting in real life as he looks at him intently.
Tim does not care and looks at him sweetly in a way he knows that Bruce knows means that he'll tranq him if he doesn't think about his words.
Batman was very out of it when Tim became Robin.
Tim read a parenting book and decided boundaries were very important in a caretaker situation.
(Yes, Tim considers himself the caretaker in this situation. He thinks it's funny.)
(Bruce did not find it funny after being tranqed for the fifth time, but he could never find all the tranqs.)
"Bruce. Isn't it so wonderful that Talia has created such a gift to the world? It's almost like welcoming a child with love is a much higher priority than whatever you were about to say."
Bruce's left hand twitches in such a subtle way that allows Tim, who knows his partner very well from the past few years, to know that Bruce was surprised.
Tim nods acceptingly before giving Bruce his ability to speak back, and smiling at their guests nicely and genuinely.
Nodding his head to each in greeting, "Ms. Talia, Prince. Please come in for some tea."
He pretends not to notice the barely there shuffle of the Prince's right foot wanting to hide behind his mother, nor does he linger on the vaguest tightening of Talia's hand on her son's shoulder as she glances around them casually.
She smiles at him, politely sharp. She actually reminds Tim of his own mother- weilding the twitch of her lips like it could cut deeper than any hidden dagger.
"That sounds lovely."
Tim took a deep breath. He had met Leslie before, but not like this. It was all Bruce's idea; if Tim wanted to continue as Robin, he had to talk to Leslie. Sure, he had been through a thing or two, but he didn't really think he needed therapy. He always had Dick to talk to, his brother always picked up the phone when Tim needed him. Taking another deep breath, Tim applied his Timothy mask and knocked on the door. @nerdybirdboy
Bruce was concerned, that much was clear.
Leslie was in agreement that perhaps having someone outside of the immediate family to talk to would be helpful, however on the few occasions she had met young Tim Drake in the past, he hadn't exactly been keen on the idea of therapy in general. Still, she was optimistic enough to keep an open mind. And really, the pool of qualified professionals in the know about the Wayne's was very limited. There weren't many other options.
"Hello Tim." Leslie greeted him warmly, pushing down the sense of Deja vu and stepping aside to let him past into her office. "It's good to see you again."
nerdybirdboy:
“Likewise, Dr Thompkins,” Tim replied, a pleasant smile on his lips. Ok, Timmy, you can do this. Give her enough to be happy, but not enough to let her know any of your true thoughts and feelings, then it risks going straight back to Bruce and then he’ll definitely not let you be Robin anymore.
Sitting down, he was very conscious about keeping a fairly open body language, hiding the fact that he didn’t want to be there at all. “How does this work?” Tim’s voice was calm and steady, all of it through iron will. Which was also the only reason he wasn’t fidgeting. “If you want me to talk about the accident, I’ll do that, but it really was an accident. I wanted to sleep and in my sleep deprived state I took a couple of pills too much. That’s it, there’s nothing more to tell.”
What had happened was that Tim having not been able to sleep more than a couple of hours for quite some time and when Bruce and Alfred were going to be gone for the weekend, Tim had seen it as his chance to get some good sleep. He hadn’t really thought about what he was doing and had just taken some of the pills, which had been more than a person his size should take. Not dangerously much, but not good either. Okay, maybe a little dangerous, but the risk of him dying had been very low. Thankfully, Alfred had felt something was wrong and Bruce knew to never doubt Alfred’s senses and they had turned back. Instead of going away, they had spent the weekend monitoring Tim. Once he was awake and conscious enough to speak and drink, Bruce had been very very angry. Just as angry as when he’d run off to handle those thugs that first time before he became Robin. Alfred believed Tim when he said it had been an accident, Bruce hadn’t been sure.
It was true though. It had really been an accident, however, accident or not, Tim shouldn’t have had sleeping pills or benzo, but he had (not anymore though). Black market medicine, so he hadn’t stolen them from Alfred or anything. Tim didn’t think he’d done anything wrong besides worrying Bruce and Alfred.
Oh he was going straight into it? Okay, she could meet him there. But Leslie really ought to slow him down first. Get him comfortable. Or more comfortable at least.
Closing the door, Leslie went about rummaging through the mini-fridge she had built into the cabinet against the wall. “Sure, we can talk about what happened if you want to Tim - do you want a drink? Snacks? I’ve got a stash of them here, you’re welcome to them anytime.”
Tim had clearly rationalised what had happened down to its finest points. Frankly, Leslie was fairly certain he was telling the truth, but even so, it was a symptom of what she feared was a much larger problem.
“So, you wanted to sleep? Okay, can I ask why you were sleep deprived in the first place? It sounds like you had a hard time getting sleep despite that - I presume that’s why you took the pills, but feel free to correct me.”
nerdybirdboy:
“Isn’t that why I’m here?” Why else would he be here? Bruce had never made him go to therapy for anything else and he’d seen and been through plenty of stuff. “No, thanks. I’m good.” He wasn’t here to have a snack, this was business. Or at least that was how he saw it. Just like cops had to see a psychologist after firing their gun, he had to see one after the accident to continue to be Robin.
“You know what we do, me and Bruce, so I have that and school, both take their time and once I’m trying to sleep… How should I describe it? I notice a lot of things, details, patterns and so on. It takes time to process it all and I can’t just shut it off and go to sleep. Sometimes I realizes things when falling asleep and need to deal with it before I can sleep. Sometimes I don’t get any sleep for days and that’s when I need help to shut off. That’s all.” Tim knew he was smart and a little different, what he didn’t know was that most people usually didn’t need to process pretty much every detail they had seen that day. “So, yes, that was why I took the pills. I had waited a little too long and lost my ability to properly judge how much I took.” He really hadn’t tried to kill himself.
Tim didn’t like this at all, but he somehow still manged to keep his body language in control and kept himself from fidgeting. This all felt like an invasion of privacy. Even though he knew he decided what to say, which was why he also didn’t mention that nightmares were part of it too.
“Details and patterns.” Leslie repeated thoughtfully, taking a seat in the plush armchair and pulling her notebook into her lap. She was going to need to keep notes for this. Things to circle back to later. Everything he was saying was important, as well as the things he wasn’t saying.
Days without sleep - that was concerning. Realising he had waited too long to take the pills. Misjudging the dosage... He had taken them before. Self-medicating. His sense of responsibility seemed to be beyond that of most fourteen year olds she had met. Not necessarily all of them, given her history of working with Batman, but it was disconcerting all the same.
Tim was sitting so still, looking a little uncomfortable but not so much that Leslie had any inclination he was going to run out on her. So she pressed onwards.
“Details and patterns of what exactly?”
nerdybirdboy:
“Everything? Like things I see mostly, but also things I hear or smell. I then connect all the details to patterns. What else would it be?” Some of Tim’s confusion bled through in his expression, clearly not fully understanding why she asked him that questions. “It’s just the usual stuff.” He shrugged. If she was going to ask such basic question, this was definitely going to be a waste of time.
“Can’t you just ask what you need to deem me sane and be done with it? I’m not suicidal, except for when in class and dying of boredom.” Yes, he was joking and he was certain Leslie understood that. “Honestly, I don’t understand why Bruce got so upset about it or why he doesn’t trust me. I’m doing much more dangerous stuff several nights a week.” There it was, a hint of irritation, just barely noticeable for the skilled observer.
“You are sane Tim. That was never in doubt.” He was annoyed. He wanted to gloss over whatever problems were there and continue on as planned. To not worry about himself and get back to being Robin. Leslie wondered how long he had been doing just that for exactly. It was too ingrained into his character to not be habbitual.
Making a note to go back to the details and patterns, she cut to the chase. “There is a difference in danger though, between fighting the villains and goons of Gotham, and self medicating and being exhausted to the point of an overdose, however accidental it may have been.” Leslie had her own opinion on the said fighting of villains and goons as well, but that wasn’t an argument she planned on having with the boy in front of her.
“You’re an intelligent young man Tim. I wouldn't dare pretend otherwise. If we apply some empathy, and consider Bruce’s point of view, is it that Bruce doesn’t trust you? Or is it that he is worried about his son and is trying to do his part as a responsible parent?”
