Chapter Text
Eye-opener noun (ʌɪˌəʊp[ə]nə) noun an event or situation that proves to be unexpectedly enlightening.
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Tim was used to being alone.
His childhood was testimony to this, full of silence and loneliness.
The boy liked to think that he thrived under these conditions, doing his best work while void of anyone else's presence.
So when he weaseled his way into the position of Robin, he never expected that actuality of his life to change.
But as Wayne Manor grew more full of inhabitants, his own home existed as an empty husk in comparison.
No one really noticed when he moved fully into the manor; they were all under the impression he had been living there full-time anyway during his time as Robin. He took up one of the rooms just outside the family wing, wanting to avoid intruding much on the lives of those he lived with. It wasn't really his house now, was it?
The point is that Tim was used to being alone.
He didn't necessarily enjoy it now that he had a taste of the hustle and bustle of having a family coworkers, but there were moments when he wished for some alone time.
Now, it just so happened to be one of those moments.
He had finished patrol around half an hour ago and was now seated at an empty table with some unsolved casework sprawled out in front of him.
Thus far tonight, Tim had seen great results with his ongoing stakeouts and was now procrastinating on writing the multitude of reports he had yet to complete.
He half debated whether Oracle would be willing to write them up for him before quickly deciding against it.
Despite the early morning hours, Tim was not the sole occupant of the cave. Jason had wandered over to where the Batmobliles were kept, still dressed in his Red Hood attire.
The bird-themed vigilante would like to think that his and other's relationship had gotten better over the years. He had come to accept that the man was not technically in control of his reactions and was under the influence of the Lazarus pit.
And so Tim chose not to question the man as he heard the soft sounds of tinkering fill the void of nothingness around them.
The teen was happy that his
brother
coworker was comfortable enough around him to make fun and joke with him.
Though he enjoyed it much more when he wasn't running on shit sleep and five cups of coffee.
Tim only realized that he had tuned the other out when he caught the tail end of the other person's 'one-sided' conversation.
"You see, Timmy..." Jason said as he stalked closer to the seated teen at a sedated pace, "We were in different tax brackets. I had to fight to survive. You had a nanny."
Tim looked up from his work in confusion as he turned to face the other behind him. The tired teen squinted his eyes at the other before he answered earnestly, "I never had a nanny."
Silence filled the area around them.
Uncomfortable silence.
Even the screeching bats on the cave ceiling seemed to fall quiet at Tim's words.
The two stayed stuck in a staring contest, not wanting to look away or break the unexpected standstill they had reached.
That was until Jason spoke again.
"Tim, your parents were never home...?" Jason asked, his tone sharp and insistent, as if he wanted Tim to take back what he was saying.
The teen rolled his eyes and returned to the papers before him. He was used to this reaction to his home life by now, having explained the situation to Dick and Bruce separately.
"Yes, Jason, my parents were rarely home, a fact highlighted extensively in my file," Tim replied, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
"And they never hired a nanny?"
"Why would they need to? I was a smart six-year-old."
Jason's gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the dim ambient light from the screens active in the cave, "... You were always alone."
Tim's face hardened momentarily before he sighed, setting aside the papers, "I thought you already knew?"
Jason frowned, a mixture of surprise and concern crossing his features, "I just assumed... I mean, you still had Stuff, didn't you? money, opportunities-"
Tim leaned back in his chair, "They missed ten of my birthdays. Three of them while they were back in Gotham and didn't travel at all."
"I was alone a lot, but it wasn't some kind of privileged freedom. It was neglect," He continued on quickly before the other could jump in, "or at least that is what Bruce says."
Jason looked down at the floor, seemingly grappling with this heavy, eye-opening topic, "But you had... Stuff. More than I did."
Tim's voice grew softer, a trace of vulnerability slipping through. "Sure, having stuff was great, but in the end, it was just a distraction from the loneliness."
Jason's expression shifted as he absorbed Tim's words, his shoulders slumping slightly, "I didn't..."
Tim stood abruptly and gathered up all his casework as quickly as possible. He strode up the stairs towards the cave exit, quickly leaving the man in his dust.
He didn't want any of the man's pity.
He just needed to be alone.