Work Text:
Tim glances at the phone card in his hand, picks up the payphone receiver, and dials a number.
"Hello?"
Tim swallows. "Hi, dad," he says. "Happy Thanksgiving."
"You too, Tim!" His father sounds cheerful. "Is it Thanksgiving already over there? It's just another day here, of course."
"I know. I can't talk long, but I wanted to call." Tim tries to think of something else to say.
"I'm glad you did, son." There's a pause. "I don't suppose your mother..."
"She's not here, she...she's picking up a few things. For a party. We're having a Thanksgiving party." He swallows. He really hates this part, but he can't afford having his mom and dad talk to each other. "She doesn't want to talk to you, dad. I'm sorry."
A sigh. "I understand, son. I have some good news, though. My job--" There's a click, and a recorded voice tells Tim that his calling card has run out of time. He frowns and tries calling back; surely he had another ten minutes left on this card? When it doesn't work, he pulls out his pouch and digs for another card...but there aren't any.
Oh, shit. Oh shit. When his father doesn't get a call right back, he's going to call his mom's house. And his mom's going to tell his father that Tim's not with her, and his father's going to tell his mother that Tim's not with *him*...
Tim squeezes his eyes shut at the rising nausea. Stupid. Stupid. He should have just left well enough alone. It had seemed like the logical thing to do, head his father off on major holidays, call him enough that he wouldn't think to call Tim...or his mother. Now, though, it's all going to come crashing down. His father's probably talking to his mother *right* *now*, and next they're going to hang up and call the police...
He draws a shaky breath, then another. He'd always known this would happen someday. All it would take was one unplanned phone conversation between his parents and they would find out the extent of his deception. His photo's going to go on the missing person's list. He can't go to any of the Martha Wayne shelters anymore...it was always a risk, before, but now it's a certainty.
There had been a moment, a few weeks in, when he'd thought about going home. It would have been easy; he could have taken a cab and had his mother pay when it arrived, or called his mother collect and told her he'd gotten stranded coming back from a visit with his dad and could she forward him the bus fare? His parents wouldn't even have *realized* that he'd been living on his own for several weeks. He'd been cold and hungry and, truth be told, frightened.
He could still come *back* to Gotham, he'd told himself. With a better plan. It would have been a strategic retreat, temporary. Eventually he'd make it back, somehow.
He'd been on the verge of convincing himself when he met Jay. And now...he *should* leave Jay. Jason would get along much better without him, he's sure of it. Without him there, Jason wouldn't have had to do...what he'd done a couple of weeks ago. Tim is nothing but a burden, dragging Jason down. Tim could be at home right now, well-fed and warm, and Jason wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. And yet...
He *can't* leave Jay. Eventually Jason will get sick of dragging him around, but Tim will stay until Jason cuts him loose. Jay's the first person who's ever acted like he actually *wants* Tim around.
Tim can't give that up.
He *will* find a way to make them some money, he vows. He'll keep them both safe. Somehow.