Chapter Text
There was a time in Gotham where seeing a hybrid was common. As common as getting mugged when you were walking through crime alley. As common as someone breaking out of arkham, as common as-
Well you get the point.
But anymore? They were rare. Exceptionally so. It was dangerous to be a hybrid in Gotham.
It was especially dangerous to be a hybrid in Gotham when you were part of the elite.
Tim wasn’t entirely sure where his hybrid features came from. Neither of his parents had any features other than completely human, and from his father’s reaction when his wings came....
He wasn’t entirely sure that Jack Drake was his father.
Regardless, he was expected to keep his wings bound whenever his parents were around, whenever he went to school, whenever the housekeeper was there...
And god help him if anyone ever found a feather in the house.
It was easier just to always keep them bound.
The only exception was in the shower.
He would carefully undo the binding, letting it fall to the floor as his black, shiny wings spread out.
Right now? They were small, to small to fly.
He didn’t have the right feathers yet either.
In a few years though? He could fly.
(He was lying to himself, he doubted he would ever fly. They would never be free long enough.)
He preened them the best he could, but he didn’t really know what he was doing. He wasn’t even supposed to preen his own wings, that was a job for his flock.
The flock he didn’t have.
The flock that probably would never exist.
The thought of that hurt. It hurt more than his parents never being home. It hurt more than bruises that came when they were home.
It hurt more than anything that Tim had ever been through.
It hurt more than the 8-year-old could really comprehend.
He just sat on the floor in the bathroom, silently crying.
~*~
Tim let his mother wrap his wings for the gala. She always did it tighter for special occasions. Making sure it wouldn’t come undone so Tim couldn’t “Disgrace the Drake name” more than he already had.
His wings almost always hurt from being bound all the time, but when they were wrapped this tightly? He knew he was in for a world of pain later.
He didn’t voice this to her though. Maybe he would have when he was younger, less experienced, and more of a burden. But now? He knew better.
He knew way better.
He let his mother dress him and get him ready, he let her put makeup on his bruises and under his eyes, he let her do his hair.
“Timothy, today we have something very important for you to do okay? I’m not going to tell you yet, but you must be on your best behavior, and you must listen to me and your father.”
Tim nodded, smiling softly at her.
He could do that. He already did that at Galas.
“Yes mother,” He said. She smiled.
Not a warm, soft, motherly smile.
But a smile that said “I’m in charge, and you know it.”
Tim knew it was the best he would ever get.
He followed his mother downstairs and did his best not to flinch as his father glared at him.
“You better not mess this up Timothy.” Was all he said.
Tim was determined not to.
~*~
Tim was used to galas. He was used to people touching his shoulders and cheeks and squeezing. He was used to forcing a smile. He was used to making polite conversation. He was even used to staying still and quiet during the speeches.
But Tim wasn’t used to being this stressed out.
His parents made it very clear that this gala was important. That they had something important for him to do.
This could be his chance to make them love him, despite the wings on his back.
He needed to make them before his more bird-like features came in.
Sure, he could keep talons filed down, he could use contacts if his eyes changed (It was a 50/50 chance with hybrids)
But they would still know.
They would known and they would hate him even more for it.
But if he could prove he was an useful asset to them? That he was worthy of being a Drake even if it wasn’t in his blood?
He might be tolerated when that day came.
Jason’s first thought when he saw the Drakes was “Why the hell do I have to meet so many people”
His second thought however, was “Why does that kid look like he’s about to explode?”
Then again, Jason himself was about ready to explode. But while Jason was about to explode from boredom and frustration, the kid looked like he was going to internally combust from anxiety.
He was trying to hide it. He was just... failing, to say the least.
“Hello sir,” Tim said, straitening.
What the hell-
WHAT THE HELL?
Sir?
Jason was older than this kid of course, but they were still both kids.
Both under the age of 18.
No one should be calling anyone under the age of old-as-hell “sir”
Especially not this... 5 year old?
Yeah, Jason decided.
This kid was definitely like, 5 at most.
Jason didn’t voice any of this, and simply blinked at the kid, shocked.
“My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, You’re Jason, right?” The kid asked.
Jason almost rolled his eyes at the full name drop, but he pushed that away.
Don’t be mean to 5 year olds
Don’t be mean to 5 year olds
Don’t be mean to-
“I apologize for my son’s poor manors, He knows better,” Mrs. Drake said, digging her nails into Timothy’s shoulder.
Timothy didn’t flinch, at all.
He just looked guilty.
So guilty.
That’s... concerning.
“Oh actually, I just wanted to know If Tim...othy... wanted to walk around with me? These things can be kind of boring.... Besides, He could meet Dick, I bet they’d get along.” Jason said, smiling.
Mrs. Drake’s gaze sharpened, glaring down at Jason like he murdered her parents or something.
“And why do you think my son would get along with him?” She asked, cooly.
But every instinct Jason had was screaming retreat-run-run-run
Jason’s instincts rarely failed him.
But he decided to press on anyways.
Like an idiot.
“They just... seem similar? Same uh... smile? I’m sure if you met my brother you would get it.” Jason said. In reality, he didn’t know Tim well enough to make the comparison. He just knew Dick would be able to handle the situation better, “Plus he’s really good with kids.”
This explanation did not really seem to appease Janet.
“And does Mr. Wayne agree with your assessment? That Grayson and my son are... similar?” Mr. Drake asked, with far more blunt malice than his wife.
Jason opened his mouth to speak but-
“I think what my brother is trying to say is, Timothy seems very likable, and I like most people. Nothing more Mr. Drake. Although, I’m sure you would agree that being compared to me isn’t all that bad... is it?”
~*~
Dick was used to racist assholes.
Jason was used to his own form of prejudice of course, the boy was from crime alley. He had nothing before he came to live with Bruce, and his childhood was filled with pain.
They both knew how it felt for people to judge you for something completely out of your control.
But there were still differences.
And Jason was to young to realize that some battles would never be won.
Normally, Dick would have left the conversation after shutting it down, and whisked his brother away for a private conversation.
But there was a hatchling right there.
He wondered if Bruce could feel it too, the man was far away, mingling with other guests.
But Dick’s insticts had been going crazy ever since the hatchling stepped through the door.
The boy was just radiating sad-lonely-hurt-sorry-sad
It was killing Dick.
It really was.
But the look of awe the boy had when he caught sight of Dick’s wings?
He spread his wings just a little more than usuall. Not enough to get in the way...
But enough so the boy could see just how awesome they were.
(Dick was proud of his wings, and he loved when people thought they were as cool as he did).
He wondered if the boy’s wings were bound- (Bruce always bound his own wings when they were in public, there just wasn’t any point for Dick to, everyone knew already from his time in the circus) -or if he simply hadn’t presented yet. He seemed young, 5 maybe?
Most hatchlings got their wings around 6 or 7.
That begged the question however, how the Drakes acquired a hatchling in the first place.
“Of course not,” Janet responded, faking a smile, “Simply curious.”
“Why did it matter, if our father agreed?” Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Just curiosity, nothing more,” Janet said politely, before continuing, “Speaking of Bruce however.... I believe we had some business with him, Jack. Come along Timothy.” Janet tacked on the last sentence like an afterthought.
But Timothy followed her with no complaints.
Dick glanced at Jason, who glared at the two elder Drakes.
“They treat him like a pet. Like he’s not even human” He spat, Dick simply sighed.
“That’s because he isn’t fully human little wing, he’s like me.”
“And them?”
“Completely human.”
Jason’s eyebrows shot up as he stared at Dick.
“You don’t mean-”
“Don’t jump to conclusions little wing, we don’t know the story.” Dick said, his wings lowering slightly, “We’ll figure it out okay?”
Jason nodded, but the boy still looked concerned.
And mad.
Dick was mad too.
He really needed to talk to Bruce.