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Tim knew almost as soon as he woke up that it was going to be a long day. After he turned off his alarm he noticed a text from Cass, letting him know she'd gotten a minor injury and wouldn't be able to go to that night's gala. He'd been looking forward to spending time with his sister, especially because she always had the perfect timing for getting him out of uncomfortable conversations with Gotham's upper class.
Plus an injury meant she wouldn't be able to patrol or spar either, both of which Tim had been looking forward to since she was in town for a few weeks. Any way of spending time with her was nice, but he especially appreciated patrolling with her, since they could read each other easily at this point. Most of their patrols were spent without either speaking except over comms or to anyone they saved from a mugging. At least he'd still be able to see her at the manor before the gala.
After he'd gotten ready he'd gone to make himself coffee in a travel mug, only for his coffee machine to essentially blow up on him, covering him in coffee. Thankfully he didn't get burnt but his clothes were soaked, and cleaning up and changing into clean clothes made him run late meaning no coffee, as much as he needed it.
Of course when he showed up for the meeting, just before it was set to begin, one of the men made a "joke" about Tim being irresponsible, just because he wasn't early for the meeting like he usually was. Thankfully, the meeting went well, as did the ones that followed. His schedule was packed with meetings, with a few minutes break between to allow him to finish writing notes, send out emails, and attempt to get any paperwork done. Even his lunch that day wasn't a break, but a lunch meeting with the head of a manufacturing company that provided parts for WayneTech.
By the time he got to his car that evening, he took a deep breath to decompress before heading to the manor. It was the first time he'd been alone all day, and likely the last time he'd be alone for more than a few minutes until patrol.
When he got to the manor Bruce, Alfred, Dick, and Damian were all bustling around preparing for the night. Cass was watching from one of the couches, a bandage wrapped around her right upper arm. She hadn't mentioned how she'd gotten hurt, only that it would be impossible to hide with any of her gala outfits, and seeing the bandages Tim completely understood. Unlike the suits the rest of the family wore, Cass's gala outfits consisted of mostly sleeveless dresses, and even those with sleeves weren't long enough to fully cover the bandages. There was also no cover story for her presumably getting slashed by a knife or clipped by a bullet.
Everyone had offered Tim passing greetings as he headed up to his old room to change from one suit to another, dropping off his overnight bag as well. With the gala and patrol after, he thought it best to stay the night at the manor. He tended to let Alfred choose what he wore for galas, so that any attending Waynes could look cohesive. The suit laid out for him was similar to the one Bruce had been wearing when Tim had seen him tying his tie downstairs. He changed quickly, then headed back downstairs while adjusting his cufflinks, gifted to him by Jack and Janet for his thirteenth birthday (they'd been late, but Tim chose to blame that on the postal service).
When he arrived downstairs Alfred had been on him almost immediately, tutting over his hair (which Alfred thought was too long) and straightening his tie. Dick was sitting on the couch and talking to Damian, who was scowling at his reflection as he continued to fuss over his hair. Bruce was next to him, fixing a tie bar in place and straightening it out.
Once Alfred released him, Tim sat next to Cass on the couch, gently nudging her (uninjured) shoulder with his. "Aren't you sad to miss out on all of this," he asked, voice heavy with sarcasm. Cass just laughed quietly, nudging him back. "How's your arm?"
She shrugged, peering down at the bandage. "Doesn't really hurt," she told him. Coming from Cass, that didn't mean much. David Cain had inflicted a lot of pain on her throughout her childhood, so her pain tolerance was beyond that of even most of the other Bats. "Small but hard to cover," she continued, and Tim nodded. If it was her side or leg she still would've attended, it was practically a right of passage for the Bats to attend galas with minor injuries, but if it couldn't be hidden, they couldn't attend. Most of the time, that only applied to face or hand injuries, but with how much of Cass's upper body was exposed in her gala outfits, other injuries would prevent her attendance.
Before Tim could ask what happened Bruce was calling them all to leave, so Tim gave her a quick hug before heading to the garage. With Dick and Damian both attending, the backseat was packed but thankfully since Damian was smaller than Tim (for now), Tim got one of the window seats. He leaned against the door as much as he could, head pressed to the glass.
Once they arrived he fully slipped into his role as Timothy Drake-Wayne, young CEO. He had Jack and Janet to thank for the perfected mask he was able to slip into for galas, cultivated from the time he was deemed old enough to attend with them at 6. Over time he'd adjusted it, particularly when he added the Wayne to his name, being a little more loose to fit more with his adoptive family, but he could still make the cutting remarks Janet had taught him, still kept an ear open for any gossip.
He found the whole song and dance exhausting, but it was expected of him to attend with a picture perfect smile, chat and dance with people who would turn around and talk behind his back about his business decisions, even if he wasn't the sole CEO of Wayne Enterprises since Bruce's return. All the good he did for Wayne Enterprises and Gotham as a whole didn't matter in the face of his age, or what he wore to the latest gala, who he spoke with for how long.
By the time the gala was over, he was ready to fall into bed, but he still had a patrol to get through. When they arrived at the manor he went straight to the cave and changed into his gear, leaving his suit folded on the bench in the locker room, dress shoes tucked beneath. Once his comm was in he headed to his bike, seeing Damian coming down the stairs.
He started out his patrol by getting an energy drink at a convenience store, sitting on a roof at the edge of his patrol area to drink it while listening to Harper and Kate banter as they finished their patrols. Patrol was both freeing and tiring. He could be more himself in the mask than at work or at galas, but he still had to put on a front, at least when fighting goons or running into the others. Stephanie ended up joining him in a fight near the end of his patrol, and decided to tag along back to the cave.
Being around Steph was nice, not in the same way as with Cass, but they were finally comfortable around one another again, could joke and push each other's buttons without fear of real anger. They decided to race back to the cave, and Tim was able to take a shortcut that let him beat her by a minute. He crowed his victory, though it was slightly soured by Damian tsk'ing at him from his place in front of the Batcomputer. Tim hadn't even noticed him, so the noise made him jump a little, slightly on edge from the long day he'd had.
"You and Brown are so childish," Damian said as Steph pulled her helmet off. Tim knew she'd been ready to fall back into their banter, but on hearing Damian's comment focused on him instead.
"At least Tim and I know how to have fun," she argued, putting her hands on her hips and walking towards the Batcomputer's platform.
As their argument continued, Tim ducked into the locker room. He could hear a shower running, likely Bruce since he and Damian usually patrolled together, but with Stephanie and Damian's arguing in the background and the soreness that came with swinging around the city for hours, the frantic energy that had been slowly building in his chest was near bursting. Rather than force himself through a shower that would likely cause a meltdown he simply slipped into the comfy clothes he had in his locker, an old pair of sweats, a sweatshirt he'd stolen from Dick, and fuzzy socks Steph had gifted him.
When he slipped out of the locker room, Damian and Steph were still arguing, attention entirely fixed on each other, and he could hear an engine coming down from one of the cave's entrances. He hurried up the stairs, not in the mood for his eldest brother's overbearing attention should he notice Tim's mood, as much as he tried to hide it.
Once back in the manor proper, Tim made his way to his room, keeping his steps quiet in case Cass was sleeping. In his room, Tim turned on the lamp on his bedside table, not able to handle the overwhelm that came with the overhead lights, but not wanting to be in total darkness. He dug his noise cancelling headphones out of his overnight bag and slipped them on, turning them on as he went before grabbing his phone and turning on his Breakdown Tunes playlist. While he wasn't actually going to have a breakdown, the songs matched the frantic energy in his chest that he needed to expel.
With his music playing, he finally allowed himself to start pacing and shaking out his hands, eyes falling closed. He'd learned early in life that he wasn't allowed to do these things around others, so he always made sure he was alone before allowing himself to stim.
He wasn't sure how much time passed with him pacing back and forth next to his bed, maybe 15 songs playing? His brain wasn't working at full power after everything he'd had to do that day, but he finally felt the last of that frantic energy leave him, only exhaustion left behind. He clicked the button on his headphones to pause his music, opening his eyes and jumping when he saw Cass sitting on his bed, legs crossed and watching him patiently.
Tim sighed, pulling his headphones off and sitting next to her, his head dropping on her shoulder. "What are you doing here?" he asked softly as she wrapped her arm around him, thumb rubbing gentle circles on his shoulder.
"Wanted to check on you. Galas are a lot," she said, matching his volume. She leaned her cheek on top of his head and Tim leaned more against her, enjoying the contact. "Are you okay?"
He huffed a laugh, pulling back to look at her face. While he usually found eye contact overwhelming, feeling like people were staring into his soul, with Cass it was almost comforting, because while she saw everything he also knew she understood. "I should be asking you that," he joked, gesturing to her bandaged arm. When she simply stared at him, he sighed, leaning into her again. "Just a long day, is all."
"I understand," she told him, pulling him to lay down. He let her arrange them as she saw fit, settling facing each other and holding hands. They simply lay in silence, soaking in each other's presence.
After a while Cass sat up to turn the light off, then pulled Tim closer, tucking his head under her chin. He let her, burying his fingers in the back of her sleep shirt while she started combing hers through his hair. As he started to fall asleep he mumbled his thanks into her collarbone, feeling her press a kiss to the top of his head in response. It was nice to have someone to rely on when the days became too much.