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Tim hated going to galas.
Luckily, it wasn’t an overly common occurrence. His parents were rarely in town, so they only managed to make it to a couple each year. And at least the three of them went together. Tim would take any time with his parents that he could get.
And even though he loathed going, Tim was great at galas. He always smiled politely and didn’t groan when the old ladies pinched his cheeks. He spoke only when spoken to, and his parent’s peers always gushed at how smart and well-behaved the Drake heir was. It usually earned him a pat on the back from his dad and an almost-genuine smile from his mother, so in the end, he considered the draining theatrics to be worth it.
At least tonight’s event was being held at Wayne Manor. Every once in a while, Tim would catch a glance of Bruce Wayne – the freaking Batman – as he waded through the sea of socialites. He enchanted the crowd in a way that mesmerizing to watch. If galas were a game, Bruce Wayne was a grandmaster. Tim enjoyed learning from him, even if it was from afar.
Jason Todd, on the other hand, was still a novice of the game. He had been with Mr. Wayne for almost a year now, but it was clear that he hadn’t been accepted by the high society yet. Tim had heard many of his parents’ conversations about how the young Wayne was a disgrace. A gutter rat. A street urchin that had no business being counted among Gotham’s elite.
“We thought Bruce had lost his mind when he took in the gypsy from the circus,” his mom scoffed to one of her shallow friends, “but this is a whole new level of absurd.”
“I don’t know, Janet,” the middle-aged woman with graying hair and way too much red lipstick responded. “I think it’s nice that Bruce is trying to help troubled youth. I mean, look at how far Richard has come. He is delightfully charismatic, and when he’s all dressed up, you can hardly tell he was ever one of those gypsies. I don’t see harm in Bruce taking on another pet project.”
Tim always felt his blood boil when the adults talked about Dick and Jason like that, using slurs and stereotypes. Neither of them deserved to be talked about so condescendingly. They were heroes.
“Mother, may I please be excused? I would like to get a drink of water,” Tim asked, trying to keep his voice polite and level. If he continued to stand there and listen to their slander, he was bound to lose control of his mouth.
His mother simply waved him off. “Of course, Timothy, just don’t go too far.”
Tim let out a breath of relief and quickly scurried off. He made a beeline for the buffet table, careful to duck between the hoards of people unnoticed. Once he arrived, he grabbed a plate and started grazing, picking up a couple of hors d’oeuvres that caught his eye. He’d already had dinner, but he figured his parents wouldn’t mind too much. His dad was always telling him he was too scrawny, anyway.
“Hiya, sport!” an unfamiliar voice greeted. Tim groaned internally but put on a polite smile and turned to face the voice. He saw a well-dressed man, probably in his mid sixties, smiling brightly at him. “You’re Jack and Janet’s kid, right?”
Tim nodded. “Yes sir. My name is Timothy.”
The man reached out his hand. “Eddie Brunswick.”
Tim recognized the name. Brunswick Inc. was one of his parent’s business partners. They would definitely want Tim to be nice. He put his plate down on the edge of the table and shook the man’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you, sir.”
“Pleasure’s all mine, young man. Tell me, how old are you now?”
“Eleven,” Tim replied. He hoped Mr. Brunswick wouldn’t want to talk to him for very long. He just wanted to hide out in the corner and eat his mini sandwiches.
“My, my, I would’ve guessed you were younger, considering how small you are.”
Tim’s smile grew strained. He was well aware how small he was for his age. His parents made sure he didn’t forget.
Mr. Brunswick laughed and clapped Tim on the shoulder. He bristled under the unfamiliar touch. “Don’t worry, my boy! I’m sure you’ll fill out eventually.”
“Yes, sir,” Tim said through his teeth. He didn’t like being touched by strangers. He wanted to run away, but his parents would be furious if they found out he was being rude to one of their colleagues.
“I saw your parents were recently featured in an issue of National Geographic,” the man said. His hand was still on Tim’s shoulder. “You must be very proud of them.”
“Yes, sir,” Tim nodded. “They have made some very valuable discoveries in their travels.”
“I’m sure they have. I enjoyed traveling myself when I was younger. In fact…”
Tim zoned out as Brunswick began to babble on about his “golden days.” He grabbed one of his mini sandwiches off of his plate and popped it into his mouth so he would have an excuse not to chime in.
After a few minutes of pure nonsense, Brunswick finally released him. “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to stand here all night and listen to an old geezer like me, so I’ll let you go. Tell your parents I said hi!”
Tim let out a breath of relief when the man finally left. He snatched his plate and hurried to the corner of the ballroom where the density of people was much lower. He sat down on one of the cold marble steps and began to chow down. He only had to make it another hour or so. Then the gala would end and his parents would take him home. He could grab his camera and hopefully make it out in time to see Batman and Robin in action. Thankfully, the Dynamic Duo never missed patrol over a stupid gala.
After a while, Tim noticed he began to feel sick. There was a bead of sweat forming on his brow, and his vision got all blurry. His head was throbbing under the noise ands lights.
He stood up, frowning at how much effort it took. Despite his growing dizziness, he knew he needed to get out of sight. The last he needed was to make a scene and upset his parents.
He saw the velvet rope that marked the barrier between the gala area and the private Wayne residence. Hopefully, he could sneak in, grab a nap, and sneak back out before anyone notices. He wasn’t as quiet as normal due to his deteriorating condition, but he still managed to sneak underneath the rope before anyone caught him. He then stumbled about until he found an unlocked door that led to an empty sitting room.
“Thank goodness,” Tim muttered when he saw the large, decorative sofa in the center of the space. He collapsed onto it without a second thought and allowed his eyes to drop closed.
He didn’t even hear the door open.
Jason tugged at his neck collar for the thousandth time that night. He hated galas. It was by far the worst thing about his new life with Bruce. No one liked him here, and the feeling was extremely mutual. He’d heard some old ladies joking about him being an Eliza Doolittle, to which he’d turned around and not-so-politely informed them that he’d read Pygmalion. Their shocked faces were the best things he’d seen all night.
He checked his watch. Only an hour-and-a-half to go, give or take, then he’d be free. Then he could take all his pent up frustration out on criminals.
He figured he could use a snack before patrol, so he headed to the buffet table. There were a couple of other people already standing there. One he recognized to be Timothy Drake, the neighbor’s kid. He was supposed to be some kind of super genius. The kid was already taking high school classes at what, nine? Ten? Jason couldn’t tell how old he was. He was a scrawny little thing, after all.
The other guy had his back turned to Jason. It wasn’t Mr. Drake, he could tell that much, and Timothy seemed a bit uncomfortable around him. Finally, the man introduced himself.
“Eddie Brunswick.”
Jason froze. He hadn’t heard that name in years. Since before Bruce took him in.
Back when he’d been forced to work a corner in order to eat and survive, Eddie Brunswick had been one of his regulars. He’d always known the guy was well off, but he hadn’t realized he was Wayne-gala rich.
Bile rose up in Jason’s throat. Images of Eddie’s face flashed in his mind. He could almost feel the asphalt digging into his knees and the older man roughly pulling at his hair.
“You have such a pretty mouth,” the voice – his voice – rang through Jason’s skull. He hadn’t told Bruce about the, um, job he’d had. It was a part of his life he’d have preferred not to ever think about again.
Yet here he was, yards away from one of the men who’d taken advantage of a starving child for their own sick pleasure.
By the time Jason finally was able to pull himself back to reality, Timothy and the man were gone.
That couldn’t be good.
Jason looked around frantically for the Drake heir, hoping for dear life the boy had gone back to his parents. He saw Jack and Janet Drake chatting with some other socialites, but their son was nowhere to be seen.
Finally, he caught sight of the kid. He had ducked under the velvet ropes and was heading into the private part of the manor. Based on how unsteady his gait was, something was definitely off.
Jason started hurrying towards where he saw Timothy go, trying to quell the immense panic rising up within him. Maybe the kid was just curious. Or sick. Maybe there was a harmless explanation…
He saw Brunswick follow Tim, bursting the small bubble of hope Jason had. He broke out into a full-on run, ignoring the dirty looks and snide comments from the onlookers. Bruce would probably yell at him later, but Jason didn’t care. He had to stop Brunswick in time. He couldn’t let the man taint another child’s innocence.
After leaping over the velvet barriers with ease, Jason burst through the door into the room his target was in.
Brunswick was squatting in front of Tim, who seemed to be asleep. Drugged, if Jason had to guess. The man was caressing the boy’s flushed cheek with one hand, and moving the other hand down towards his pant zipper.
Jason saw red.
“Get the fuck away from him!” he yelled. He rushed forward and yanked Brunswick to the ground.
“Hey, I was just checking on the kid. He seemed sick!” Brunswick defended. He looked up at Jason, and recognition suddenly flared up in the man’s eyes. “Oh, hello, Jay Jay. Fancy seeing you here.”
“Shut up before I make you,” Jason growled, planting himself between the pedophile and the sleeping boy on the couch. He reached into his pocket and fished out his phone, barely able to keep his hands from shaking. “I’m calling the police.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that,” Brunswick said, his voice low and hungry. “Not when you I know things about you. Things that could ruin your life. Tell me, does your new daddy know you were a whore?”
“This isn’t about me. This is about you being a piece of shit.”
The man stood up and brushed off his jacket. “I’ll take that as a ‘no.’ But now it is about you. If you were to call the police, why would they believe a former street slut over a respected businessman? Maybe you were the one that drugged poor Timothy. And I just happened to get here just in time to save him from your filthy intentions.”
He was trying to scare Jason into silence. It was a common tactic among pedophiles. Normally, Jason would never buy into it. But the fact of the matter was, Gotham City was corrupt. And it would be Jason’s word versus Brunswick’s.
“Bruce would believe me, and that would be enough,” Jason countered. Everyone in Gotham (at least every good person) loved Bruce Wayne. If he said Jason was innocent, then hopefully others would listen.
“Would he believe you? What if he knew how many dicks you’ve sucked just for a few bucks? I could call an anonymous tip to Vicki Vale and tell her the truth. Do you really think he would stay by your side if all of Gotham knew what you’ve done? After all, why would such a reputable man want a whore for a son?”
Jason’s heart was beating in his ears. Bruce would still want him for a son, right? Then again, there was a reason he hadn’t told his adoptive father about everything. Bruce knew he’d stolen, of course, seeing as that was how they met. But knowing Jason was a prostitute? That might be too much. Jason was already an embarrassment to the Wayne name.
“So what? You expect me to just walk away and let you hurt another kid? Because that’s not going to happen.”
Brunswick glanced between the two boys and smiled. “Maybe we could reach a compromise. Perhaps you could offer me your services once again in exchange for my silence and keeping the Drake boy nice and pure.”
Jason wanted to throw up. He was supposed to be done with that life. He had everything he could possibly need and more. Bruce made sure he wouldn’t have to fend for himself ever again.
“Oh come on, Jay Jay,” Brunswick cooed. Jason winced at the nickname. It was the name he’d given to all of his, um, clients. It was a name he’d never wanted to hear again. “It’s nothing you haven’t done before. What one more cock in that filthy mouth of yours –”
Brunswick was cut off by a hard punch to the face. He crumpled immediately, and Jason saw Bruce standing there, heaving and radiating pure fury.
“Stay the fuck away from my son,” he growled. Jason felt chills go down his spine.
“B-Bruce,” he choked out. “W-what are you doing here?”
“I saw you running,” Bruce said, narrowing his eyes. “Are you hurt?”
Jason shook his head.
“Good.” He glanced up at the sofa. “Is that Timothy Drake?”
Jason coughed to clear his voice. “H-he drugged him. I followed them in here to stop him. I don’t think he touched him.”
Bruce nodded, obviously having shifted into Batman mode. He knelt in front of Tim and felt his pulse before gently shaking the boy’s shoulder. “Timothy? Can you hear me?”
The little boy groaned a little and, after a few more second of shaking, finally cracked his eyes open. “Batman?” he mumbled.
Jason’s eyes widened. That was unexpected. “Did he just –”
Bruce lifted a finger up to his lips, signaling for Jason to be quiet. For once in his life, he obliged. “Timothy,” Bruce began. “Do you know where you are?”
“I was at a party,” Tim slurred, “but I muss be dreamin.’ Batman and Robin are actually talkin’ to me.”
The kid closed his eyes again, and Bruce frowned. He reached up and flipped on his hidden comm. “Alfred, shut down the gala. Say I’ve had too much to drink and passed out in the bathroom or something. And find Jack and Janet Drake and ask if it’s alright if their son Timothy stays over for a sleepover with Jason. Make it very convincing. I’ll explain everything later.”
“What are you going to do?” Jason asked. “Are you going to call the police?”
“Is what he said true?” Bruce asked quietly, turning to face his son.
Jason gulped. “I-I’m sorry,” he croaked, feeling hot tears form behind his eyes. “I didn’t want you to find out. I wanted to forget about it. I-I didn’t have a choice. It was a while before you found me. I hadn’t eaten in four days, and a guy in a suit came up to me on the street and offered me a hundred bucks to blow him. I didn’t want to, I swear! But I was just so hungry. He must have told his friends, because soon I got more offers, and it became a regular thing.”
Bruce’s face was blank. “And Brunswick was one of those offers.”
Jason wiped his nose with his sleeve and nodded. “He was a regular. During the winter, he’d even rent a motel room sometimes a-and let me stay there after he… after he was done with me. I know it’s disgusting and wrong and I understand if you’re ashamed of me. But I was able to eat almost every day and take a hot shower and sleep in a warm bed once in a while. I was too weak to say no. I’m so, so sorry Bruce. Please don’t kick me out.”
He was shaking with sobs now. He’d repressed those memories for so long, and now they were flooding out of him. And if Bruce kicked him out and sent him back to the streets…
His thoughts were cut off when strong arms wrapped around him. Bruce held Jason tightly against his chest, burying his face in his son’s hair.
“Oh, Jaylad,” he whispered, sounding heartbroken. “I would never kick you out. You’re my son, and I love you so very much. Nothing could change that.”
“Y-you mean that?” Jason mumbled against his father’s chest.
“Of course I do. I only regret that I didn’t find you sooner. I wish more than anything I could have saved you from those disgusting men.”
“I-I let them do it,” Jason sniffled. “They didn’t hold me down or nothing. I-I let them use me like a dirty slut.”
Bruce pulled away just enough to cup Jason’s face in his hands. “Jason, I want you to listen to me very closely. You are a child. Children cannot consent. What those men did to you was abhorrent and certainly not your fault in any way. You were in a terrible situation, and they took advantage of you. Do you understand?”
Jason nodded. “S-so what’s gonna happen?”
Bruce sighed and glanced back at their unconscious guest. “If we call the police now, Brunswick would likely only be charge for assaulting and drugging a minor. Maybe intent to rape if we’re lucky. With his resources, it'd be a miracle if he saw any jail time at all. But if we let Batman and Robin look into things, then we can find more evidence and try to take him down for everything he’s ever done and make sure he rots in a cell for the rest of his miserable existence.”
“What about the kid?”
Bruce looked back at Tim again. “We’ll watch him closely from here. If his condition worsens any, we’ll call Leslie. I’d like to know once he’s lucid whether he actually knows our identities or not.”
“And if he does?”
Bruce smiled softly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, I’d like to get this piece of garbage out of our house. I’ll send Alfred to come get you when the party is over. Can you watch over Mr. Drake until then?”
“Of course,” Jason confirmed. He was eager to do something useful.
“That’s my boy. I’m so proud of you, Jason.”
Jason’s eyes widened. “For what?”
“Facing Brunswick again must have been very scary for you, yet you put yourself in front of him to save Tim. You’re a hero, son, both in and out of the cape.”
Jason surged forward and buried his face in his father’s chest. “Thanks for not thinking less of me, B.”
Bruce returned the embrace. “Like I said, Jaylad, nothing could ever change the way I feel about you. I love you so much, my son.”
“I love you too, Dad.”