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7.
Shiny eyes stare at the camera, a Polaroid, but new and top of the line and his.
"Now, be careful," Dad warns, but he's smiling and Mom is smiling and so far, it's been the best birthday ever, in Tim's opinion. He's been with his family for the entire day.
It had been amazing, with a trip down to the arcade, the good one, with the air hockey table and all of his favorites. Dad had played Pac Man, and Street Fighter, and even Mom joined in with the air hockey table and Dad let him win every single time. Then they had burgers and milkshakes and Dad made Mom laugh so hard, the milkshake came out of her nose. And now they're having chocolate cake and presents.
"It's a very sensitive piece of equipment…"
"It's a camera, Jack, relax."
"He needs to learn how to take care of his stuff, Janet," Dad grumps, but before he can say anything to Dad, cause he's a big boy and he does take care of his stuff, he does, white cloth cover his eyes, smelling of Mom's perfume and he's wrapped up in a hug from her, her cheek resting against the top of his head.
"Happy Birthday, my special boy," she whispers before giving him a kiss on the top of his head and Tim knows: this has been a fantastic birthday.
16.
He blows out the candles of the cake, smiling even as the smoke dances in the cave.
"Ach! Don't let those smoking candles get close to the machine!" Bruce snaps, "It'll corrupt the analysis!"
"My god man," Alfred snaps, glaring at Bruce as he starts laying into him, but Tim tunes him out. He's used to it. Bruce is for the Mission, and he's not here to have a good time- he here to help. To be useful.
To be truthful, he wasn't expecting much from either of them- he was more than happy with the surprise birthday pizza party Dad and Dana set up, happy to spend time with his family and civilian friends.
He knows that if they could, the Titans would've said something, celebrated.
He knows, and yet- somehow it's different than it was with the Young Justice. Maybe that's why he kept quiet. Maybe that's why he didn't say anything earlier, and let his own birthday fall out of his head, forgetting it.
Even still, the nice, civilian, celebration was appreciated, and Alfred baking a cake is the best. It doesn't matter that Batman is hovering, awkward, actually unsure in this situation, and probably resorting to ignoring said issue for the Mission, once again, it doesn't matter. He gets to go out and be Robin and help save Gotham. He has his Dad and Dana and Steph, and all of his friends, both heroic and civilian. He has Alfred, he has Dick. He's wanted. He's being useful. He's loved.
He's 16 and Robin, and the world had never looked so bright.
18.
He leans against Steph, leans against her warm, her fullness, enjoying the quiet together.
It's been. Rough. The last two years feel like a haze- a nightmare-inducing, PTSD-causing haze, but a haze nonetheless- with so much happening and changing and reality bending, that for the first time in a long time, he only can trust the present, the now.
And right now, they're celebrating his birthday together.
It was different. He's on the outskirts now, and things are messy in Gotham and he's barely spoken to Cassie or Bart or Kon in months.
But at least Stephanie is here.
He sighs, nuzzling her neck to smell vanilla and lavender and a scent that's just Stephanie, as she quietly sings Happy Birthday, just enjoying the specialty of this night.
"Happy birthday, Boy Wonder."
19.
Tim chuckles, leaning against Kon's warm side as he listens to his friends disharmonious rendition of "Happy Birthday," feeling happy and sad and just, frustrated all at once.
It's been. Chaotic. There was some robotic rebellion earlier today that turned into an emergency rescue mission that turned into a space battle that turned into some almost intergalactic incident if John Stewart hadn't stepped in, and Bruce found out while he was in the Med bay and laid into him, full cape and all. And then his friends got involved and he's positive if it wasn't for Cassie, Kon would have probably punched Batman.
It's been a mess.
But right now, they're at Cassie's apartment, with a cake and candles, and the promise of a massive hangout with video games and pizza and Cassie being nice and letting them marathon Wendy the Werewolf Stalker. Because that's what best friends do, Cassie said earlier, smiling at him with those steady eyes. They're there for them. They're always here for him. He loves them, his best friends, his Core- he's so damn grateful for them.
Tim is fucking lucky to have his best friends, especially since-
(He doesn't think about vanilla and lavender and her. He can't. He won't. It still hurts too damn much.)
Tim leans against Kon, looks at his best friends, and quietly, loves.
21.
He jerks up at the knock of the door.
"Tim?" Lucius. Tim honestly thought he went home hours ago. No matter.
"Come in," he rasps, rubbing his eyes. It's late. Or early. He's unsure; earlier today Lucius and him just finalized a merger deal, one that took months of preparation and a reduction of patrols, if mostly to make clarification about the acquiring company, because accounts weren't adding up, and Tim wasn't sure if it was just bad accounting and greedy executives or something worse, and him trying to make sure that employees that weren't being kept on after the merger had some sort of decent severance package, and not just the golden parachute for the executive.
It all turned out to be shoddy accounting and dumb executives and nothing more. It took weeks of paperwork to wade through, so as a result, he's a bit backed up with the other paperwork.
Who knew being a CEO was hard work?
(Tim knew. Tim watched his Dad and his Mom in business, never wanting to go into business. Where's Tim now? CEO of one of the largest businesses in the world.
He would laugh if he wasn't positive he would immediately start crying. Sleep deprivation and all that.)
"Hey Lucius," he gives the man his best winning smile, grateful at his help, hopeful that the smile was enough to stop Lucius looking at him with worry. At the way the older man looks unimpressed, Tim knows he's failed. "How may I help you?"
"Well, I figured that you would be still working on this, past midnight," Lucius walks over, and there's something in his hands, huh-
Two glasses are set on Tim's desk. A bottle with amber liquid sits between them.
"I figured," Lucius quietly says, "That due to the merger, you forgot again. And that maybe you would like something to celebrate on you turning 21."
Tim's drunk before. He's been to Europe and house parties and nights with the Superhero and Vigilante crowd, and most of them have the same ideals that if you're old enough to get killed in the line of action, for the sake of others, you're old enough to drink. Bruce trained him early on to differentiate between various liquors and drugs. Hell, he remembers his Dad, Jack, letting him sneak a sip of beer or champagne once or twice.
And yet.
"Thank you, Mr. Fox," he admits into the quiet room, and Lucius gives a small but warm smile, half hidden in the dim room, carefully uncorking the scotch and pouring them both just a finger each.
"You've grown up to be a wonderful young man," Lucius raises his glass at him, his solemn voice holding so much sincerity, Tim can read it like a book. "I'm very glad to have the pride of working alongside you, and watching you grow. Happy birthday, Tim."
Tim swallows the fine scotch down, but barely. There's a random lump in his throat all of a sudden, how strange.
For a moment, it's them, Lucius and Drake-Wayne, Mr. Fox and Tim. It's two men, looking at each other as they enjoy fine scotch and the quiet of the night.
"Now," Lucius gives him a wry look. "Tanya made me promise that we're having you over in the morning, and Tam backed her up. Pack up so you can crash on my couch for a nap before both of them invariably wake you up for your birthday breakfast."
"I'm the CEO," he says, but still he rises, gathering what he truly needs and nothing else- he's wise enough now to not try and argue once Tanya Fox gets into the mix.
"And you wouldn't be the first CEO to crash on my couch," Lucius replies as he herds Tim out the door. "Remind me to tell you how many times Bruce used to do that, especially when he pissed off Alfred."
Tim's laughter follows them to the elevator.
23.
He wakes up to his friends in his house.
Well, he wakes up to an alarm.
Dazed, he stumbles, immediately thinking Jenna, and ninjas, and death. Stumbling into her (redecorated, actual room for a child) room, he finds her not in bed, her sheets and pillows neatly arranged and oh god, it's like the time with the rooftops, she's out in Gotham unsupervised again and she's going to get kidnapped.
Except when he skids down the stairs, onto the first floor, there's no ninjas or anything, only a frantic Jenna and Bart doing some sort of movements around the kitchen, as Kon floats above tries to disassemble the smoke detector, Cassie shoving something into his kitchen sink, a trail of black smoking nearly engulfing her.
"What." Is all he can say to the scene.
"I'm sorry!" Jenna wails over his group's weak cries of "Surprise!"
He blinks. Looks at each person, landing on the small girl who looks ready to pass out in fright, decides on his first course of action. He'll figure out what his friends are doing later; he has bigger priorities.
"Are you ok?" The first thing he asks, because she looks okay, but if these past few months had shown, is that Jenna keeps her cards close to her chest. And she's good at hiding things if she desires.
(He ignores how familiar that sounds.)
At her nod, he continues, ignoring how Bart dashes out of sight, out of the room. Higher priorities. "Then it's alright. What happened?"
"I," she still looks so ashamed. "I didn't know and it's special and I know you wanted to try it but they're still closed from the Toxin War, and I thought we could make it but I failed. It got all ruined and I'm sorry Mr. Dad I'm a failure," she rambles, watery and broken sounding and she's tearing up, oh god what does he do?
"Jenna, it's okay, it's- it's fine," he leans down, assuring, hopeful, but she's shaking her head, tears spilling down her face and sometimes he wishes this parenting thing was a bit easier. He still has no idea what she's talking about.
A gentle touch makes him look up to Kon, jerking his head to the sink. Tim lets Kon take his place (who immediately hugs her and cuddles her close, he should've thought of that, damnit) as he wanders over to the sink.
In it is a mess of brown and black, with the smell of burnt chocolate and coffee wafting up.
"Happy Birthday, Tim," Cassie murmurs and everything clicks into place. The one coffee and chocolate cake he wanted to try earlier, the way he lamented to Kon about how the restaurant was still shut down- still decontaminating the place.
Oh, he thinks, turning to look at her, still stiff and cringing away. Oh, Jenna.
"Jenna." She's not looking at him. "Jenna, please, look up," he crosses over to where she's stiff in Kon's arms.
"I'm sorry," she repeats. "You- they said today was special, not- it was supposed to be a special day, that's what Kon and Cassie and Bart said birthdays are, that they're special and, and I wanted to make it even more special and I'm sorry, Mr. Dad."
"It's okay," he replies, automatic, instantly forgiving her, though the glare both Kon and Cassie give him makes him hastily continue. "I mean, Jenna, today is special, but you didn't have to give me a fancy cake-"
"-Yes I did," she interrupts, eyes flashing. "Yes I did. It's you." Green eyes catch his. "You've given me everything, Mr. Dad- you're the best thing. Ever."
It's awesome, to have her love, her trust in him. Not exactly in the current meaning- more of the old one, the one that means daunting as well as impressive; he looks at her and it's a bit terrifying, to know how badly he can screw this up, because she adores him. How much she loves him.
He doesn't know what to say. So instead, he gathers her in his arms.
"Thank you so much, my special girl," he presses a kiss to the crown of her head, holding her tight.
"Happy birthday, Mr. Dad," she murmurs into his shirt. He holds her tighter.
He's sure Mom and Dad would've loved Jenna.
"I know the cake was a bust," heads turn to see Bart, smiling, expectant at them. "But we can still enjoy today."
It's a medley surrounding them. The table is groaning with their favorite foods, and right on cue, all of their stomachs give a groan.
"Thanks Bart," Tim smiles after the feast, all of them congregating to collapse on the couch, full from the meal. The speedster waves him off. "It's no problem," he says, "Happy Birthday, Tim."
"We're glad to be here," Cassie beams at him. "Here's to another year slowly becoming the old man you were meant to be." He snorts, rolling his eyes at her.
"So, do you have any plans for today?" Kon leans back, raising a brow at him.
He shrugs. "I have work soon, but-"
"No you don't."
"Excuse me?"
"That's our gift to you- Cassie called Wayne Enterprises and got Mr. Fox to let you off, and me n' Bart got the rest of your patrol covered, and any emergencies that come around from living in Gotham, so you have one completely free day, dude," Kon grins at him.
He stares, struck silent at the consideration of the gift, the present of time. No work, no patrol, no emergencies- he had the day off to do whatever he wants.
"You got any ideas?" Cassie asks, Bart having gone back to grab more food- speedsters, he swears- and he's about to reply, ask for any ideas, when he glances at Jenna and he knows. He knows what he wants to do today.
"Hey Jenna," the smile is slow and warm on his face, just like in his chest, warm from the meal and warm from the fact that he's surrounded by his family. He gets to spend the entire day with them. It's going to be the best birthday ever, he's certain.
"Have you ever been to an arcade?"