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Bruce couldn’t focus. He was at a Justice League meeting and he couldn’t focus. Tim was turning fourteen today and Bruce was at a meeting. Technically, Bruce had been the first one to wish Tim a happy birthday when they finished patrol at 2 am that morning and Bruce knew full well that he couldn't be with Tim right now even if he wasn't at a meeting. Tim had mentioned that his parents were coming back home for his birthday. Apparently, the Gotham Museum of Art had a new photography exhibit that they had promised to take him to. Tim was safe and he was happy.
And yet Bruce couldn't focus.
“Are you okay?” Bruce looked up from where he was glaring at the table. Clark was looking at him. Actually, everyone was looking at him. Great.
“I'm fine,” Bruce said. Because really, everything was fine. It was just that, on their birthdays, Bruce always liked to spend the full day with his sons. It felt wrong to be here instead of doing something fun with Tim. But Tim wasn't his son. . . “I'm sorry, we can continue.”
“If you're sure,” Clark said before nodding to J’onn to continue his presentation. They were discussing some new potentially violent alien invaders that could eradicate humanity and blah blah blah. Bruce was tuning out again.
It was only a couple minutes later when Bruce realized the conversation had stopped for a second time. A phone was going off and everyone was looking at him again.
“Sorry,” Bruce said, pulling out his phone. Seeing who was calling he immediately stood up.
“Batman? Is everything okay?” Arthur asked.
“I need to take this.” Bruce walked to the edge of the room, keenly aware of the concerned eyes watching him. “Robin. Is everything okay? Are you hurt?”
“Hey, B. No, everything’s fine. I just. . . I just felt like calling you.” Tim was lying. Bruce's worry was increasing. Something was wrong. Tim knew he had a League meeting today. The typical Tim would be reluctant to call Bruce even if he had fallen down the stairs and broken his leg. Always afraid to be a bother. So what was wrong? What wasn't he telling him? Something in his voice sounded off too. Like he was upset, but Tim shouldn't be upset today unless. . .
“Shouldn't you be with your parents right now?” Bruce was met with silence. A horrible, heartbreaking silence.
“Tim,” Bruce said, his voice softening. “What happened?” Tim took a shaking breath.
“They didn't show,” he whispered. “Their trip got extended and now they're going back to Greece when they're done in Peru.”
Bruce hated Jack and Janet Drake. He hated them for making Tim sound like this. For leaving their son alone for most of the year. For making Tim think that was okay. He hated them for being the reason Bruce couldn't just adopt the boy.
“I'll be there soon.”
“What?”
“I'm on my way, Tim.” Bruce was moving back towards the conference table to pack up his stuff.
“But you have a meeting! Alien invasion, remember?” Bruce didn't ask how Tim knew what they were talking about. Tim somehow always knew.
“I'm leaving,” Bruce said more to the League than to Tim. They looked surprised and confused but he continued packing up his stuff. Why did he have so many goddamn papers out? He hadn't even been paying attention.
“Bruce, please. I didn't call because-- You have to stay. It's important.” Bruce stopped moving for a minute.
“You're important too, Tim.” He was met with more silence. Bruce could practically hear the ‘no I'm not. Why are you doing this? I'm not worth it.’ And god, Bruce really hated Jack and Janet Drake “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
He ended the call, not wanting to give Tim an opportunity to argue with him.
He would have to make sure to remind Tim of his importance more often. Tim had saved Bruce from himself. He was such a caring, intelligent young man and yet he still couldn't tell how much he mattered.
“Bruce, what's wrong?” Diana asked.
“Family emergency,” he huffed, shoving his phone back into its spot in his utility belt.
“Is everything okay?”
“No.” Because nothing was okay. One of his boys was upset and Jack and Janet were horrible parents and Bruce still couldn't adopt Tim.
“Is there anything we can do?” Clark asked, standing up.
“No.” Because there wasn't. Because this was a family matter. Because Tim was, without a doubt, family. No matter what he might think. Bruce scooped up his bag and walked towards the door.
“Send me the notes from the rest of the meeting.” Then he was gone. He used the zeta tube to get back to the cave, immediately changing out of his suit and into something more comfortable. Bruce didn't bother wasting time going upstairs to the manor. Instead, he grabbed a random car and sped out of the garage. The Drakes didn't live far. In fact, Tim did that short walk almost daily. But that would take too long. He needed to see Tim now. He needed to tell Tim how much he mattered now.
The car had barely stopped when Bruce ripped open the door. He ran up the front steps and pounded on the door. Bruce heard footsteps before the door opened and then Tim was standing in front of him. Tim in his faded blue jeans and his black t-shirt with a tiny yellow bat symbol stitched on the front. Tim with his messy hair and tired eyes.
“Bruce you really didn't have to come. That was an important meeting and I’m sure they could use your help-” Bruce hugged him before he would say anything else.
“I'd rather be here.” Tim’s body was stiff but he slowly relaxed and returned Bruce's hug. Bruce pulled back after a minute.
“I'm serious, Tim. You're more important than any meeting and I’ll always come if you call.” Tim stared at him before his lips twitched into a small smile.
“Thanks, B,” he said, ducking his head slightly.
“Do you want to go somewhere? Barbara sent a list of what she says are the best dessert places in Gotham the other day. We could go see which one is really the best,” Bruce offered and Tim gave him a real smile.
“Sure, just let me grab some shoes.”
Yes, Bruce thought, smiling again, this was much more important than any meeting.