Chapter Text
Damian frowned as he watched Superman and Wonder Woman escort his father into his bedroom. A strong stench of alcohol seemed to follow the man in a thick haze as they laid him in bed before walking out of the room and into the hallway where Richard, Todd, and Damian all stood with different looks of concern on their faces.
Clark stepped towards Richard, his face pinched in concern. “He was hit by a spell. Constantine said that it reverted him back to his lowest moments in life. You may want to call Red Robin to come in and take care of him.”
Damian let out a scoff. “Tt, we do not need Timothy to come and take care of Father. I’m sure that the three of us and Pennyworth will be able to help him just fine,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
Clark ignored him, though, his eyes on Richard. “He remembers you all and knows that all of you are alive and well. But mentally, he’s at his lowest point ever. The only person I know who could possibly help him is Tim. From what I remember, he was the only one who could get through to him last time.”
Richard frowned, his brow furrowed. “I’ll give him a call. Thanks, Uncle Clark, thanks Diana,” he said with a polite, if not strained, smile. The two nodded before heading back to the Batcave to leave via Zeta tube. As soon as they were gone, Richard let out a sigh and slumped against the wall.
“Why was he so insistent that the Replacement be the one to take care of B?” Jason asked with a frown. “We know Bruce just as well as the pretender does.”
Damian was inclined to agree. If anything, they were better suited to take care of his father. They were his real children after all, as Jason said, Drake was nothing more than a pretender.
Richard just rubbed a hand over his face and said nothing before he walked into Bruce’s room, Jason and Damian on his heels.
“Neither of you were around the last time he was like this. Neither was I,” he admitted, staring at the man who was simply sitting on the bed, his eyes glassed over as he stared at the wall in front of him. “Last time, I was too angry with him to help. I don’t even know if I could do anything this time. I don’t know how Tim did it. Neither does Alfred.”
“Tt, this is a job for me, then,” Damian tutted before marching over to his father. “Father you must cease with this needless behavior. You are perfectly fine and there is no reason to behave like this. Now get up so that you may take a shower and change out of your gear.”
Bruce said nothing as the twelve-year-old stared his father down. He simply continued staring, his eyes unseeing.
“I got this,” Jason said with a huff, pushing Damian out of the way and grabbing Bruce’s arm. “Come on old man, you reek of alcohol and it’s pathetic. Get up so you can get a shower—“
Bruce shoved Jason away from him. “Don’t touch me,” he snarled as Jason fell back a step, his back hitting the dresser behind him.
“Come on B. Let’s not do this—“ Dick started.
“Get out,” Bruce snarled out, his eyes narrowed into slits.
“Father—“
“I said get out!” He shouted before throwing his alarm clock against the wall beside Dicks head, clattering to a bunch of broken pieces at his feet.
“Let’s go,” Jason whispered, fear in his eyes. A look on his face that Damian had never seen before. He grabbed Damian’s arm and dragged him out of the room, Dick close on his heels.
Damian watched as Richard grabbed Jason and pulled him in for a hug.
“It’s okay,” Dick whispered quietly. “You’re okay. He didn’t mean it, he’s not in his right mind right now.”
Jason swallowed and nodded his head. “I’m fine, I’m fine. He just—he reminded me of Willis,” he choked out, back pressed against the hallway wall as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. Damian frowned, he didn’t know much about Jason’s time before living with their father. But he knew that Jason’s biological father was a raging alcoholic who would get violent with Jason at times.
“What is going on up here?” Alfred asked, stepping into the hallway. Damian turned and relayed the information they received from Superman and Wonder Woman and Alfred suddenly got a pinched look on his face.
“I do not understand, Pennyworth. Father has never behaved like this before,” Damian said with a huff, still feeling put out that his father treated him in such a manner.
“He has,” Alfred said sadly. “And I am afraid that Master Timothy was the only one who was able to get through to him at the time. I will give him a call.”
“Alfie, we can handle it—“ Jason started.
“No, Master Jason. You cannot, you were not here for it last time. The last time Master Bruce was like this nothing your brother nor myself did seemed to help. He drank more than he had ever done before. He was violent and angry. It is not something you would know how to handle I’m afraid. None of you are able to. The last time he was like this, Master Dick made it worse and I was no help. We will have to call your brother.”
“I’ll call him now,” Richard said softly as he pulled out his phone and pulled up Tim’s number. Damian let out a huff and leaned against the wall, his arms crossed across his chest.
Timothy had been moved out of the manor for nearly two years now. He had moved out during the time they had all been under the belief that Bruce was dead. And after he brought their father back from the time stream he kept his distance. The only ones he actually kept in contact with, as far as Damian knew, was their father, Alfred, and Cassandra. He didn’t remember the last time he spoke to the interloper.
“Hey Tim, I’m sorry to bother you,” Dick said nervously. His toe tapped against the hardwood floor incessantly as he explained the situation. “Alf thinks you’re the only one to help. If you don’t want to, that’s more than under—oh. Uh okay, we’ll see you in fifteen,” he said before pulling his phone back to stare at it. A look of surprise on his face.
Dick looked up at them with a small, nervous smile. “He’s on his way.”
The others nodded and stayed gathered around the front of Bruce’s bedroom door when they heard the front door creak open downstairs and soon footsteps echoed through the wall.
Timothy looked well, if Damian was being honest. He stood in front of the with a beanie covering his head, a hoodie sat snuggly on thin shoulders and joggers clung to his legs. He looked as though he had been relaxing at home when Richard called and came right away.
“How bad are we talking?” He asked, looking at Alfred.
The butler let out a sigh. “Level three,” he said quietly. Tim nodded and without hesitation walked towards the door and pushed it open. He shut it behind him but the three boys listened to the conversation intently.
“It’s too quiet,” Jason murmured. “We need to go help before he gets hurt.”
The door swung open a moment later to reveal a perfectly fine Drake.
“He’s taking a shower. Alfred, can you whip up something for him to eat. Get some soup or something easy to eat that doesn’t require chewing,” he told the butler. “Jason grab me some bottled water. Dick go away, you guys piss each other off when he’s like this. Brat go get Titus and bring him back here,” Tim ordered before he spun on his heel and went back into the room.
Alfred nodded his head and hurried down the stairs, likely into the kitchen to prepare something for Bruce to eat. The brothers did not start their tasks. Instead they followed Tim into the room.
Damian observed as Timothy stood beside the bathroom door with his lips pursed and his arms crossed over his chest. “I don’t hear the water running, Bruce. Get in the goddamn shower before I go in there and force you to,” he called through the door. The water started a few moments later, much to Damian’s surprise. “What are you three doing? I thought I told you what I needed.”
“How?” Dick croaked out.
Tim narrowed his eyes. “I did this for two years. I know how to get him to take care of himself,” he said with a scoff. “I took care of him when no one else could or would. Now go get what I asked for or leave.”
“Fine,” Jason muttered just as they heard a clatter in the bathroom. Damian saw Tim tilt his head up toward the ceiling for a moment, as if praying for peace before he opened the bathroom door and waltzed in like he has done it thousands of times before. Jason stared for a moment before he headed out the room, looking far more startled than Damian expected.
“Go grab Titus, Baby Bat. I’m going to help Tim,” Richard said with a too fake smile. Damian nodded wordlessly and rushed out of the room.
Dick felt like the worst person in the world as he watched his younger brothers run off, leaving him alone in their father’s room. He had no clue what the hell he was doing. He remembered when Bruce was like this before, remembered being angry beyond belief and screaming at him every time they were in the same room together. Leaving him alone with a thirteen year old kid to take care of him.
But this time was different. He wasn’t angry or grieving this time. And yet he was still relying on Tim, sweet, caring, nineteen-year-old Tim. He wouldn’t leave him alone this time. He rushed into the bathroom to find Tim helping steady Bruce as he stood under the water in nothing but his boxers.
“I thought I told you to leave,” Tim bit out, pulling the curtain closed on their father as he leaned down and started picking up the discarded parts of the batsuit and dropped them down the clothing shoot.
“I’m not leaving you alone to take care of him this time. You shouldn’t have had to do it by yourself the last time,” Dick said with a frown. He cast a look at where the shower was running and looked back at Tim. “Did you have to do this before? Help him get in the shower?”
“He was too drunk to do it alone and it would make Alfred upset trying to help him. I made sure he got in without hurting himself and he usually managed to do the rest himself,” he said evenly. Tim cast one more look at Bruce before he pulled Dick out of the bathroom and back in Bruce’s bedroom.
“Look. This is the Bruce that I know best. The drunk, angry, grieving, and heartbroken Bruce who stopped taking care of himself. I know how to handle him when he’s lashing out, I can handle him screaming at me, or crying or whatever else. I did it before. But if you, Jason, and Damian are going to insist on helping then you’re going to do what I say no questions asked. Do you understand me?” He bit out, his eyes sharp and angry in a way dick hadn’t seen in quite some time.
“Whatever you need,” he said with a nod. Tim swallowed and looked back at the bathroom door.
“Then you’re going to help me take care of him and you’re going to keep Jason and Damian away from him. Damian is a kid and he doesn’t need to see his dad like this. And it’s going to be too triggering for Jason. I could see it when I got here, it’s too similar to what he grew up in and it’s just going to stress him out. Last time when Bruce was like this we had Ace who would comfort him. Titus can do the same. Get the water and the dog from them and then come back here until Alfred finishes his soup.”
Dick pursed his lips and nodded before he headed out of the bedroom just as the shower turned off in the room next door. Tim let out a breath as Dick walked out of the room and jumped when he found both Damian and Jason standing nervously in the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Jason demanded, wringing his hands nervously as he tried to look over Dick’s shoulder through the door before the older brother shut it.
“Tim’s got it taken care of,” Dick said softly. “Do you have what Tim asked for?”
The two younger boys nodded in affirmation, Jason holding up a tray with a bowl of soup from Alfred along with a glass of water. Damian motioned down towards Titus sitting beside his feet and held up Alfred the Cat.
Dick let out a hum and nodded his head. “Okay, I’ll take the soup and water to him first and then let in the pets. Jay, just go to bed. Dami, wait here,” Dick ordered before taking the tray from his little brother. Before he turned on his heel and walked back in the room, shutting the door behind him before either of his brothers could take a peek inside. His steps faltered, though, as his eyes fell on the scene before him.
“They’re all here, Bruce, they’re all alive and healthy,” Tim whispered, Bruce’s face buried in his hands as Tim rubbed his back softly. “I know it’s hard right now and it feels like the end and it’s hard and you’re sad and you feel so alone. But it’s different now, you have your family again, you’re not alone anymore,” Tim said softly. He glanced over to find Tim standing in the doorway shifting from one foot to the other.
“See,” Tim said softly, tapping Bruce’s head softly. “There’s Dick. He’s alive and he’s happy and he’s not angry with you, your relationship is great now. He even brought you some dinner, you’re hungry, remember?”
Bruce raised his head and gave Dick a soft, heartbroken smile. “Thank you,” he said softly as Dick finally forced his feet to move and stepped towards and handed the tray over.
“How are you doing?” Dick asked cautiously, watching as Bruce took the tray and stared down at the soup like it had personally offended him in some way, his lip curled over his teeth.
“I’m alive, unfortunately,” he said with a huff, flinching slightly as Tim smacked the back of his head lightly. “Fortunately,” he said gruffly.
“Thanks Dick,” Tim said with a forced smile, looking up at Dick. “Can you grab the pets?”
Dick nodded and walked stiffly towards the door, not knowing how to even handle the storm cloud that seemed to be floating over his father’s head. He took the pets from Damian and shut the door in his baby brother’s face as the two pets made their way in the room.
“Can you go?” Bruce asked, looking at Dick with a pinched look on his face. Something cracked in Dick’s heart at that until he noticed the shame that seemed to be living within Bruce’s eyes.
He let out a cough. “Uh yeah, yeah I can go,” he said stiffly before he walked out of the room.
“Well?” Damian asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“He asked me to leave,” Dick said before he cleared his throat. “Now let’s get you to bed,” he said, ushering Damian down the hall and to his bedroom.
Tim Drake was many things. He was Red Robin. He was the CEO of Wayne Enterprises. He was the leader of a team of heroes. He was one of the best detectives in the world. But he was also, unfortunately, the only person who really knew how to handle a suicidal Bruce Wayne.
He kept a watchful eye on his sleeping mentor as he checked the room for any sharp objects or anything that could hurt Bruce. He remembered all too well how hard things had been for Bruce the last time.
Remembered having to pry a gun from his mentor’s hands as he held it to his temple. Remembered having to keep a sharp eye on the man as they stood on too high buildings where the man would teeter on the edge without his grappling gun to keep him from falling.
He remembered the nights where Bruce would drink far too much until he stunk of alcohol and vomit.
“I’m not going to try to kill myself, this time Tim,” Bruce said from his blanket burrito.
“You’re thinking about it, though, aren’t you?” Tim asked, turning to stare at the man perceptively.
“Things would be better if I did,” Bruce grunted, his tongue was always looser when he was like this. Always a little more willing to spill his guts when it was them.
Tim Drake was a lot of things.
One of those being his mentor’s confidant.
He had been thirteen and the only one who was capable of taking care of the older man. Tim was thirteen and had become a punching bag for the older man in a way. He was thirteen and took the brunt of Bruce’s anger. He was thirteen and was called the wrong name for two years because Bruce would look at him and instead of seeing Tim, he saw Jason. He was thirteen and he had slowly put the broken pieces of Bruce Wayne back together again by himself. And now at nineteen he was doing it again.
They had come a long way since then. Bruce had even sat Tim down to apologize to him for how he had treated the teenager, how he had used Tim when he should have been there as a father for the kid. Tim had accepted it and told Bruce that he would have done it all over again. And now he was proving that.
So, now at nineteen years old, he looked his father down with disdain. “I think you’re wrong,” he said softly. “And I’m not saying that just to make you feel better either, B. I know that things wouldn’t be better. When we thought you died,” Tim let out a shuddering breath as he sat on the bed beside his father. The man was a sight to see. His eyes red rimmed, his salt and pepper hair mussed up, the bags under his eyes matched Tim’s. “It was the worst time of my life. I know we’ve talked about it since then and I know, I know you don’t see me as just a soldier. I know now that I’m your son. But at that time, I felt lost. I was a soldier without a mission. My job had been taking care of you for so long and suddenly you were gone. And everyone was falling apart. Dick was in over his head. Jason was a mess and fucked off to space. Cass left for Hong Kong. Damian was just, he was lost. We were all lost without you. I mean Alfred was a wreck. There was even one day where he forgot to wear gloves! Alfred!” He exclaimed, eliciting a soft chuckle from his father.
“So no, I have evidence to say that no one would be better off if you were dead, Dad,” Tim said softly. “You’re my hero, you’re the guy I’ve watched my entire life. You’re my dad and I love you.”
“I love you too,” Bruce said softly, letting out a sniff. He rubbed the palms of his hands against his eyes and let out a huff. “I feel like I’m drowning.”
Tim let out a soft chuckle. “Well that’s depression. I’ve felt that for the last four or five years now. It isn’t fun,” he said softly. “But you’ve gotten through this before, and you’ll do it again. Besides, this time it’s just a curse that’s taking you back to your worst times. It’ll be over before you know it and you’ll be back to how you were.“
The younger vigilante let out a breath and stood up. “Now, how about you get under the covers and get some rest? I’ll be down the hall if you need anything and I’ll have Alfred bring you a cup of tea to help you wind down.”
Bruce let out a grunt and nodded before he did as Tim ordered and laid down. Tim gave his dad a small smile and did a once over on the room before he headed out of his dad’s room, his shoulders drooped down low.
“You were thirteen,” a voice whispered and Tim looked over to find Dick sitting on the floor beside Bruce’s door, his head buried in his hands. “You were thirteen and I left you alone to take care of him.”
“Yes,” Tim said carefully, not sure where his brother was going with this.
In all honesty, he wasn’t even sure if Dick was his brother. They hadn’t really talked in a while. Not since Tim had brought Bruce back from the timestream. Sure, they worked missions together when they needed to, and Tim was polite when he saw the other at family dinners when Bruce managed to guilt him into coming. But in all honesty, Tim had cut himself off from the rest of his father’s children aside from Cass. It had been too hard to be around them. To see the guilt and bitterness in Dick’s eyes. To hear the insults hurled from Damian and Jason’s mouths.
No, it was easier to separate himself from them. To do his own thing and be happy. And for the most part, he was. He had an amazing life. He had two amazing boyfriends in Kon and Bart. He and Bruce were closer than ever and had really mended their relationship. To the point where the man had really become a father to Tim. Things were going well for him. Sure, he was bitter that he was never going to have a relationship with the two former Robins that he had looked up to. And yes, it hurt to know that he and DIck would never have the same relationship they once had. Yes, he missed the tight octopus hugs from the older man and going train hopping with him. But he treasured his happiness more and Dick didn’t bring him that hapiness anymore, he didn’t provide the same kind of comfort he once did.
And now as he looked back on it, he never really did. Dick hadn’t cared about him as a brother should. When Tim had first joined the family as Robin at just thirteen, Dick hadn’t cast him a second glance. He had even said that he wouldn’t have another brother, not after Jason. And while it had hurt in ways that TIm couldn’t even explain, he understood. And he wasn’t there for Dick, he was there for Bruce, for his hero. But then the next few years, things changed, Dick got a little closer to him. For a few years he would take Tim out on adventures and hang out with him. Have movie nights with him in Bludhaven.
And then Jason had come back. Jason had attacked Tim at Titan’s Tower and Dick had then been given a chance to have his real brother back and Tim knew that Dick resented Tim for what happened. That Dick would choose Jason over him any day of the week. So, Tim had stepped back and made that decision for the older man. He had swallowed his own fears and insecurities and said nothing as they welcomed Jason back into the folds despite the fact that Jason had never bothered to apologize to Tim.
It had been Bruce who had finally pulled Tim abc to make sure he was okay with it. Bruce who kept a watchful eye on things and would go out of his way to have dinner with Tim so that he wouldn’t have to go to the manor when Jason was there.
“I’m sorry,” Dick said after a few moments. “I’m so, so sorry Tim. You weren’t even his kid yet and you were taking care of him. I should have been the one to do it and I didn’t. I was so angry with him for Jason’s death that I didn’t even care that he was falling apart.”
Tim shrugged. “You should have. But you didn’t, so I did. Honestly, this isn’t even nearly as bad as he was when I first came into the picture. I think on some level, he knows right now how bad he was and he’s trying not to do that again, even if he is feeling just as horrible as he did then. He hasn’t called me Jason yet. And he hasn’t hit me, so that’s a win,” he said with a shrug.
Dick’s face crumpled at that. “He hit you?”
“Don’t worry about it, it’s in the past. And Bruce and I? We’ve talked. He apologized. A lot, actually. After he came back from the time stream the two of us had a lot to talk about and we’re good. Now, go to bed. You’re not helping anyone by sitting here and thinking about all the things you could have done. It’s in the past and you can’t go back and fix it.”
“What can I do, then?”
Tim let out a hum as he thought it over for a moment. Part of him was frustrated. He hated that it somehow always seemed to fall onto him to pick his family members up and put them back together. “Be better,” he finally said. “Whatever that means to you, be better, Dick.”
“Can I fix things with us?” Dick asked him quietly.
At that, the younger boy gave him a startled look. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “That bridge not only burned but it broke and I don’t know if you can fix it.”
“What if I built a new bridge? A better, sturdier bridge?” Dick whispered, looking up at Tim with heartbroken eyes.
Tim just gave him a small, grim smile. “I don’t want to get my hopes up with you again Dick. I really don’t,” he said and let out a breath. “Now, go to bed. I’ll be here in the morning.”
Dick just nodded and stood up from his spot on the floor. He gave Tim a look like he wanted to hug him and Tim found himself walking away rather than giving his oldest brother an invitation to do so.
He made his way to his bedroom and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He would call Zatanna or John in the morning to see how long this curse was going to be on Bruce. And once he was better, he was getting the hell out of here.