Chapter Text
There’s a knock on his door.
Knock. Knock.
Who’s there?
“Tim, sweetheart, I’m going in.”
Mommy’s lost and Daddy’s dead, a little robin with his marbles in a heck.
And now he has a bag of pills and a room to be looked in.
Who’s going in?
Batsy is.
The door opens and Batsy comes inside. His flock of hatchlings and pups follows him, right at his heels.
Junior giggles uncontrollably. Laugh, laugh, JayJay!
How long has he been laughing? His throat hurts. Junior pulls his knees closer to his chest, hugging them tightly.
Batsy sits on the bed right next to Junior. He seems hung up on something. Like a bat.
“Tim, you need to breathe. Listen to me. You are Tim Drake-Wayne. You are in the Wayne Manor, your room specifically. You are my son.”
Junior makes a face at Batsy. What’s he doing? Batsy takes a deep but shaky breath and starts repeating.
“You are Tim Drake-Wayne. You are in the Wayne Manor, your room specifically. You are my son.”
“What the fuck is going on?” an angry (scared) voice voices.
White streak. Red Helmet. Red Hood. Red Hood! Wasn’t that daddy’s name? He stole it!
No, no. Imitation is the best form of flattery, JayJay.
Is that so?
“Master Tim is in the middle of a fit,” Mr. Butler says. Mr. Butler has always been kind. Always answered Junior's questions with discretion.
Big Blue’s blue eyes go so wide. He should be careful or they’ll fall out!
“What kind of fit is this? What is happening to Drake!” Baby Batsy demands. How scary!
Junior giggles.
“He came into contact with the Joker toxin on the last patrol. I thought he took an antidote in time,” Batsy says.
Mr. Butler goes through his drawers. What is he hoping to find? A cheese-grind?
“He doesn’t have any pre-described medicine here. I know we have an additional bottle in the Batcave. I’ll go retrieve it, Master Bruce.”
Silent Shadow looks at Junior with sad eyes and leaves with Mr. Butler.
“This is not what a normal fit looks like when someone is dosed with the Joker toxin. Bruce, what is happening?” Big Blue frantically moves closer to Junior, only stopping when Batsy raises a hand that orders him to freeze. Maybe there really is a cheese.
“When Tim was Robin, he had a bad run with Joker- “ Batsy starts to tell but Junior gasps with enlightenment.
“I know. I know. I can tell the story,” Junior says with excitement.
This is going to be fun!
When eyes turn on him, Junior smiles, wide so wide, and for the first time, takes a deep breath.
“Once upon a time, there was Jokester and a bird. Said Jokester caught the little birdie in his snare. He kept the birdie and played with him. Electric shocks to make him forget. Bleach to make him change his visage. Cuts to test his resilience. And slowly, very slowly, the birdie lost his feathers and made daddy and mommy proud.”
Daddy’s imitator chokes on his breath. With a shaking hand, he squeezes his neck.
So many emotions already! How good is his story?
“Joker Junior, they called him. JayJay, they affectionately said. Sonny, they ordered him.”
Big Blue takes a step back. Is his story bad? Well, let’s turn that.
“Luckily for the little birdie, papa Batsy was frantic in his search. With girly Batty, they found their lost bird.”
Baby Batsy reaches with his hand and grabs Big Blue’s shirt hem. And Big Blue puts his hand on top of his head, a protective move with just as much care. Oh, how adorable.
“But they came late.” Junior sighs and laments, shaking his head. “The feathers have been burned off away. And a new weapon was given to it instead of flight.”
Junior makes a pistol gesture with his fingers and points it at daddy’s imitator. “Bang. Bang. The weapon did.”
Daddy’s imitator jerks as if he were being hit.
Silly. The gun is fake.
Junior giggles.
“At Batsy, the weapon was aimed. ‘Make daddy proud! Now this is a punchline!’ A choice was to be made. Click, the button did. Bang, the weapon played.”
Junior dramatically pauses, bathing in the tension he created. The scared looks just heighten the state of the plot.
“Jokester's breath was taken away. ‘That’s not funny’ he said at last, cause death he was, afterwards.” Junior’s breath hitches. Blink and it’s away.
“And the little birdie was free again. His feathers had grown back with strength. A flight he could take off with a rein. Alone, he was not, but happy that was,” Junior finishes.
He waits for the applause and receives none. Was his story bad? Should he be mad?
Shame on him. Shame on them. He entertained well.
“Your name is Tim Drake-Wayne. You are in the Wayne Manor, your room specifically. You are my son,” Batsy speaks.
Has he not heard? That repeat leads to madness. He should be careful, or he’ll lose his marbles.
“I found his pills.”
“Thank you, Alfred.”
Batsy hugs Junior and he can feel some of the tension leave his body. It's grounding.
Weird. Since when does JayJay need to feel stressed?
“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart.” Batsy- Bruce kisses his temple.
Tim believes him.