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Back when Tim's parents still cared about him. Back when his Dad actually paid attention to him.
When they would still celebrate his birthday.
Tim would always receive Dad Bucks™.
Jack Drake first implemented this system as a way to teach his son about financial responsibility at a young age. To prepare him as the future CEO of Drake Industries, he was going to raise a component son. Something that ‘Brucie” Wayne was not. One day, he may even talk circles around the man. Maybe even convince him to sign WE over to him. He handed the first five Dad Bucks™ to Tim on his third birthday. Stating that “These dollars can be spent at any dad store for anything that he may want.”
Of course, his father never called them Dad Bucks™. That was such an uncouth name. They were 'Father Acclaimed Dollars'. His words, definitely not Tim's
He would much rather refer to them as Dad Bucks™. It made so much more sense! It was money and people who had money would sometimes call them bucks. Plus Tim received them from his dad. So they were Dad Bucks™.
Tim remembers taking the flimsy paper bills excitedly, planning all the possible things he could buy at this new Dad store. He would’ve bought something right then and there, but he had held back. He didn't want his father to think he didn't appreciate the gift. Exchanging gifts right after receiving was disrespectful after all.
Since then, his father personally handed him five Dad Bucks™ for the next two birthdays. This changed as his father traveled across the globe for archaeological digs, tasking the nanny to give him the same amount every year. That lasted only for a short while though, as his final nanny was fired as he reached the age of seven.
Tim, honest to god, believed that he had quite the savings. He wasn't quite sure though as he did not have an adequate representation of pricing. He had yet to be able to buy anything from the Dad Store.
It wasn't that Tim didn't want to get something, he would absolutely love to. It's just that.. his father was never around for him to cash out. He was only ever around a few times a year.
On the days that Jack did happen to appear back home, Tim would spend hours trying to decide; to come up with the best idea of what to buy. Things like candy, action figures, or maybe even a new pillow case would flip through his mind. It would be his first purchase! It had to be a good one. However, every single time, when Tim would finally come to a decision, his father was already on the next plane out of Gotham. Without a goodbye.
But this time, Tim was going to be prepared.
His father was due back any day now. This was his chance. He was finally going to be able to access the Dad store! And he wasn't going to waste hours thinking. He already knew what he wanted.
Two weeks ago, Tim’s favorite camera, his only camera, smashed. It was his fault. He should have noticed that the strap was frayed, and he had skipped his maintenance check that night. He was in a rush, the bus to Gotham’s inner city was about to arrive and the next one wasn't going to appear for another couple of hours. He could not miss any more opportunities for photos of Batman and Robin. The last bus back to Bristol was at 3 am. That wouldn't give Tim nearly enough time to stalk after the bats. Then the night would result in a waste.
Luckily, Tim was quick enough to catch that first bus. Only that hadn't mattered in retrospect, the night ended in waste anyway.
Barely an hour in, as he raced after a sighting of Robin, his camera strap snapped. He would have caught it, if he wasn't running along the ledge of the roof. His rough and sudden stop caused him to lose his balance and topple over the edge after his camera. In that moment, he knew it was either him or that precious camera. The camera could be replaced, he could not and honestly…his parents' lectures were not worth it. He quickly grabbed the ledge, grunting at catching his weight. He watched as the camera plummeted to the ground, smashing to pieces before he heaved himself up to safety.
He was still venturing out, chasing after the bats. But it wasn't the same if he didn't have his camera. All the potential shots he could’ve taken. There was even the appearance of a new Robin! He wanted a new camera desperately.
He would be able to get it soon. He knew exactly which model and everything. There was a new film camera that only came out the previous month. Its features were a much needed improvement compared to his old one.
Tim had never been this excited. He had been spending every available moment sitting by the widow seal of his front porch, just watching the driveway.
Any day now! Any minute they would finally be home. They promised.
—
“Timothy Jackson Drake!” The stern voice of his mother woke him from his unprompted nap. “What on earth are you doing?! That is indecent! A Drake does not nap on the floor.”
Tim blankly looked up at his mother, blinking away sleep. He didn’t mean to fall asleep. It was an accident but Janet wouldn't care. Shamefully, Tim climbed to his feet and mumbled out an apology, hoping to appease her.
“You will speak clearly to your mother!” It did not. His cheek was now stinging from the slap he received.
He tries to hold back the tears gathering up at the corners of his eyes, discreetly sniffling. It would only make things worse. His mother hated his emotional side. He was terrible at controlling his mask.
He quickly greeted his parents properly before high tailing it to his room. He was going to have to wait to get access to the Dad Store. If he were to ask then and there, they would have definitely thrown a bigger fit.
A good child knows when to be quiet.
He wouldn’t mess up this chance.
He only had to wait a few more hours. Probably after they had settled down, they were always relaxed once they had a cup of coffee in the foyer. Then it should be fine. That was only two hours away.
Tim busied himself until then. He made sure his room was tidied. The bed fully made and all shelves de-cluttered. His parents wouldn’t enter his room but he couldn’t take his chances. It was better to make sure things were perfect than to continue to upset them.
It was the fifth time after straightening out his action figures that he finally deemed enough time had passed.
This was it! He shook out his excitement from his hands and then made sure his shirt was wrinkle free. With a calming breath, he left his room and headed down the stairs.
From the top of the steps, he could see his father reading the current newspaper, his feet propped up on the ottoman. His mother sipped her steaming coffee from their white china, a smile gracing her face.
Tim placed himself in front of his father, clearing his throat respectfully to get his attention. “Father,” The man hummed in acknowledgment. “I wanted to purchase something from the Dad Store.”
Jack pulled the newspaper from his line of sight, a disgruntled complexion. “Dad Store? What kind of nonsense are you sprouting now?”
Tim verbally stumbled. “The Dad…store?...”
“Timothy,” This father sighed, turning back to his newspaper. “You are 13. You need to stop imagining childish things. My son should be better than that.”
“But I’m 9.”
“What have I told you about talking back?” With a slight jolt, the newspaper was tossed onto the coffee table and Jack stood up, towering over Tim.
Tim couldn't help but gulp down his fear. Trying to hold down his ground, “I was just-”
He wasn't able to finish as Jack roughly grabbed his cheeks, his thumb painfully squashing the skin inward. “You do not treat your parents this way.” He let go of his face just as quickly as he had grabbed it. “I was going to allow you to join us making an appearance at Wayne’s Gala. He apparently is introducing a new street rat he picked up. I was going to show him up with our distinguished son.”
Tim squeaked once his father had yanked a grip on his forearm. It was a painful bruising grip, he had to bite his lip to hold back any other sound he could make. That would make his father angrier.
“However, it seems that I was grossly wrong at how well my damn son behaves.” The man continued to rant as he pulled Tim back up the stairs and threw him to the ground of his room.
His hand caught on the rug, rubbing violently against the texture as the rest of his body completed the fall. A rug burn on his hand was not going to go great. He hissed as he pushed himself up and his father slammed his door.
Tim could care less about going to the gala. While it was Bruce’s, Batman’s, gala, he would have a much more pleasant time staying at home. It beat having to be poked, prodded, and paraded around to his parents whim for hours. He hated the stuffiness and polite fakeness that swarmed the atmosphere.
But that wasn't what was on the forefront of Tim’s mind.
His father hadn’t remembered the Dad Store.
That couldn’t be right. He was a dad, he should be able to access the store. For Tim, his son. But the man didn't seem to have any memory of it.
Why?
Was he spending too much time away from home? Did a father have to spend a certain amount of time with their son to be recognized? Did his father no longer count?
That would mean he only has to get his father to spend time with him. That would fix it! But was a certain amount of time required? His father wasn’t not on the best terms with him right now. And he would be gone in only a couple of hours once again. It would be pointless.
His father was broken. There was nothing he could do to fix it. He would never be able to buy anything from the store. Never be able to buy himself a new camera. It was so unfair.
He clenched his hands into fists, his right dully stinging from the burn. He tried to hold back the tears. His dad was properly right. He was getting too old to care about this stuff. But…
But he was never able to buy anything. All the bills he saved up, it was pointless. He could’ve got anything. That's what his father had said when he was three. The store could get him anything. Anything he could ever want. Anything.
Anything.
Anything.
Tim gasped. He could get anything. Anything he wanted. He could just buy a new dad. One that isn't broken! And then he would be able to get access to the store and more Dad Bucks™. But he couldn’t get a new dad. He didn't have access to the Dad Store. He wasn’t a dad…That's right. He wasn't a dad . But there were other dads. He didn't have to ask his father to buy something.
He had said ‘ Any Dad Store’
He just needed another dad.
Bruce Wayne was a dad. A father of two now. He would have twice the access! If Dick Grayson no longer counted, then his new kid still would.
He would just ask Bruce to buy him a new dad!
He probably even had enough for a dad. Tim might not know much about the prices in the Dad Store, but a new dad would be expensive. And he had so much saved.
He remembered once, he had pointed out a plush bunny sitting in a window of a store to his father, begging to be able to get it. Jack had told him that the bunny would’ve cost him seven whole Dad Bucks™.
Even though Tim nodded in encouragement and handed him the paper bills, his father told him he didn't have enough. He only had five Dad Bucks™ to his name, that was two less than what he needed for the bunny.
That meant the plush bunny was expensive. So a new dad shouldn’t be that much more. At the very least, a dad would be eight Dad Bucks™. One more than the bunny! Even if it turned out it was more than eight, he had fifteen saved up. He could bargain his way up. If they said no to eight, he would go up to nine, and then ten respectfully. That way they wouldn't know how much he actually had and maybe get the dad cheaper! And have more leftover to get that camera.
That would work. It was a solid plan.
Go to Bruce Wayne and bargain for a new dad through him.
—--
Tim was honestly expecting Bruce Wayne to open the door when he knocked. But that was the stupidest thing he could have believed. Bruce was a CEO, he was Batman for god's sake, He wouldn't open the door himself!
He had Alfred for a reason. God, Tim was stupid.
He would have smacked his own forehead then and there. But said butler was already opening the door and greeting him.
Tim did not deserve a greeting. He was already embarrassing himself, even if Alfred couldn't read his mind.
“Good Afternoon, Mister Timothy Drake.” Alfred properly greeted, probably catching Tim’s grimace at the use of his full name. The boy was never quick enough to hide his body language. Something Janet Darke was extremely disappointed in. The butler continued on, unaffected however. “I did not get a chance to see you last night with your parents sadly, however it is good to see you in great health. What can I do for you?”
Tim wasn't sure how to act. No one ever spoke to him that way. In such a kind respectful way. It was like Alfred Pennyworth actually cared for young Tim. But that couldn't be right. He didn't know Tim at all.
Shaking from his thoughts, he looked up at the butler. His hands clenching the Dad Bucks™ behind his back. “I…uh…would like to speak to Mr. Bruce Wayne. Please?” He hastily remembered to add a please at the end of his request.
“Certainly.” Alfred moved to the side of the door, inviting Tim into the Wayne Manor. “Why don’t you wait inside? Get out of this awful heat wave.”
All Tim could do was nod in acknowledgement and timidly enter.
“Master Bruce will only be a moment.” Was the last thing Alfred said before leaving him alone in the foyer.
He looked nervously around him. He wasn't sure what he was allowed to do. Would Bruce be mad if he sat on one of the sofas? Would it be better just to stand and wait? The butler said it would only be a moment.
Before Tim could really reason with himself. Alfred, and by extension Bruce Wanyne, arrived back into the room. He quickly straightened his form, holding eye contact with the man. With Batman. This was it. The Dad Store
“Mr. Dad-” Tim cut himself off, his face flushing red in embarrassment. He hadn’t meant to call him Dad. He was nervous. He was getting a chance at the Dad Store. And not just any Dad Store. It was Batman’s Dad Store. Oh god he called Batman Dad-
“Mr. Dad?” Bruce questionably trailed off as he walked closer to Tim, causing the boy to flush more. However, the man didn't make any more comments on his mistake. With a smile, he kneeled down in front of Tim, bodily language open. “Hello, Timothy.”
Bruce’s eyes flickered to Alfred as if confirming that was the right name, before Tim corrected the man. “Tim.” The red was dying down, but he still nervously tightened his grip on his paper bills.
“Tim.” Bruce acknowledged. “Where are you parents? It’s quite a trip from Drake Manor.”
“I wanted to buy something from the Dad Store!” Tim blurted out, pulling his gripped Dad Bucks™ closer to his chest.
Bruce’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “Dad Store?”
The boy took his confusion as denial, that Bruce probably didn't think he had the money. He had to fix that. He shoved the bills into the man’s face. “I have the money, see!? I’ve been saving lots. I want to buy a new dad. I have enough! Here’s eight whole Dad Bucks™. I have more too! If that isn't enough!”
Tim dumped the Dad Bucks™ into the hands of Bruce before hastily digging into pockets for the rest. Of course, he didn't realize until he pulled out the last of his money that he screwed up. He told him how much had saved up! He lost his bargaining chip. Bruce was going to take all his money for the new dad and he wasn't going to any left to buy that camera.
He sniffled as tears once again for the third time in two days filled his eyes. He sucked at this. Guess it's good his mom is not here.
“Wait, hold on.” Bruce tried to calm the boy down, losing more and more understanding of the situation that was playing out. “You want to buy a new….dad?”
Tim nodded, snot dripping down from his nose before he swiped it away with his sleeve. “Yeah. My dad is broken. He forgot about the Dad Store.” He fiddled with the end of his shirt. “The Dad Store employees don’t think he’s a dad anymore. Cause they don’t see him with me. So they took away his access. I want to buy a new dad from the store. And you're a dad so you have access. You can help me.”
Bruce hummed calculatingly, the things Tim was saying were concerning. “Why don’t they think he is a dad?”
“Father is never around. I only see him like twice a year, and only ever for a few hours each time. There was one time that he was staying around for a whole day,” Tim raised his head, a small smile on his face.” He even said he would take me to a new restaurant that opened up. And I was so excited! I got dressed and everything and waited in my room until he said we were ready to go. But then it got so late, so I left the room to find him. But when I did, nobody was around anymore.” His smile disappeared as his story continued.
“Nobody? Where was your nanny?” Bruce pushed on.
“I haven't had a nanny since I was seven.” It was like Tim didn't realize that wasn't a good thing. He answered like it was normal.
“Okay.” Bruce said, trying to hide a grimace at the information. He continued to smile and act as though nothing was wrong. He side eyed Alfred, who in return, gave him a single nod. “Is there any other reason your dad is no longer a dad? Maybe I can speak to the Dad store employees about this.”
“Will I still get to buy a new dad?” Tim waited for a nod from him, before quietly mumbling out, “Dads aren't supposed to hurt their kids. And he hurt me. So he’s broken.” He fidgeted, before pulling up the sleeve of his shirt showing the forming bruise of his father’s hand.
Bruce sucked in a breath. He patted Tim’s head as he stood up. “Okay, Tim. I can get you a new dad.” Honestly, Bruce couldn’t hold back a smile as he watched one grow brightly on the boy.
However, the smile quickly dropped. “Do I have to spend all my Dad Bucks™?”
“I’ll make you a deal,” Bruce presented most of the bills he was handed earlier. “Five will go to the new dad and you can have the rest.” Tim quickly took them back. “Now for the time being you are going to be staying here. Alfred will take you back to the Drake Manor to get your clothes and then bring you back.”
Tim hurriedly nodded in thanks and followed Alfred out of the Manor.
Bruce let out a long sigh, hand sliding down his face. He was not expecting to be told about the negligence and abuse committed by his neighbors toward their 9 year old son. He could not catch a break. As Batman or as Bruce.
“What was that about?” Dick Grayson, his eldest son, walked into the room. A heavy bowl of cheerios resting in his hands.
“Our next door neighbor wanted to buy a new dad.” Bruce smiled slightly and Dick choked on a spoon of cereal. “How do you feel about a new brother?”
“Again?!” Jason yelled from another room. “You just got me!”
—
Tim has been asking the status of his new dad for weeks. Bruce was running out of ways to stall.
The court case has been dragging on. Longer than he had planned for it.
Every morning, during breakfast Tim would ask, with the most serious look, when he was getting his new dad. And every single time, Bruce had to hold back his laughter and try to steer Tim into a different topic.
“Where is my new dad?”
“The payment is only just processing.” Bruce would respond
“Can my new dad pick me up now?”
“How about we go to the park today?” Bruce would try.
“Are you buying a new dad? You promised.”
“We are still in the process of choosing one. I want to make sure they are perfect for you.” Bruce would lie.
But this Friday morning, it would be different.
The court case was finally finalized. It was over and Bruce had won.
He wasn't able to send the Drakes to jail. There wasn’t enough solid evidence for that and even if it was possible, they had too much money to buy their way out of it. But that was fine.
He had won custody of Tim.
He could finally present Tim with a new dad. That new dad was him.
Hopefully. Tim would accept him.
Tim bounced into his seat, laughing. Dick had held the boy by his ankles and had spinned into the dining room, all in good fun. Jason trails in behind the two, a slight smile on his face. He was so glad they had accepted Tim warmly. It was nice to see how happy they have become to have the boy added to their family.
Once his laughter died down, Tim turned to Bruce. “Has my new dad come yet?”
“Actually,” Bruce began, Tim’s smile grew ten times more brightly, his mouth slightly gaped open and almost looked like he was about to hop up onto the chair. “He has.”
Bruce slid the adoption certificate in front of the boy. He held himself with slight hesitance, a shy smile, afraid that Tim would disapprove.
Tim’s shoulders seemed to dip as he read the official document. Bruce’s smile soured, that wasn't great.
But before he could take it back, Tim flung himself across the table, tackling Bruce in one of the tightest hugs he had ever received from any of his sons.
The boy sobbed as Bruce brushed his hair back and responded with his own tight embrace. He slightly kissed his forehead before resting a smile in Tim’s hair. Jason and Dick both wore their own warm smiles. Bruce beckoned them to join. They didn't waste a second, quickly hoping over and surrounding their little brother and father.
The moment almost felt like it could last forever. This was Bruce’s family. It was perfect.
Tim pulled slightly back, pushing Dick’s and Jason’s arms from his shoulders as he looked up at Bruce. “Can I purchase a camera from the Dad Store with my Dad Bucks™?”
Bruce released the most heart-filled laugh. “I’ll gift you anything, my son.”
“Thanks, Batman!”
“What?”