Chapter Text
So the thing is, Tim might have a bit of a problem here.
It’s a simple problem, if someone asked him. Turns out there’s nothing in his fridge. It wouldn’t be much of a problem if Tim was a human child to begin with. Then buying groceries would be a walk in the park. It would just be a matter of entering a supermarket and grabbing the first snack they have on the racks.
The problem however resides in the fact Tim is not… one hundred percent human. He’s more like a hybrid; half-human and half vampire. Or a Dhampir, as old-fashioned people liked to say.
There’re good things and bad things about being a Dhampir. The good side is that he’s much stronger than a typical human. He is more sensitive and has highly attuned senses. Then there’s the fact he can also get vitamin D from the sun.
The only downside to it? Tim can only drink blood.
Now, as a fledgling, Tim has to feed multiple times a day in order to satisfy his thirst, but that’s not a problem. Tim can handle himself more than fine. He’s a big boy. He knows how the world works. It’s why his parents haven't bothered keeping a nanny anymore whenever they go on trips.
The only thing Tim needs —whenever his parents have to go abroad— is for his parents to restock their blood supply. It typically lasts three months. Maybe four, if he carefully rations each portion with precision.
It’s only when his parents extend their trips that problems start to arise. It’s not done on purpose, of course! His parents are important people. They're the kind of people who need to travel frequently in order to keep their company afloat. With so many trips, it’s only natural for them to forget about their pantry every now and then.
Whenever his food supplies start to get scarce, Tim starts skipping meals. That usually does the trick and makes it last long enough for his parents to be back into town.
The main problem with Tim is that… he’s never run out of stock before. In the three years Tim has been taking care of himself, that has never happened before. Up until now. Clearly, this is Tim’s fault for rationing his food better.
He should have known better.
He got too greedy.
When Tim first ran out of blood, he initially thought about telling his parents what had happened. Surely they would know what to do; but the thing is, Tim’s parents are important people. With so much work on their hands, his parents don’t always have the time to reply to calls or messages.
The last thing Tim wants is being a bother, so, nope! He’s not calling anyone. This is something Tim can deal with on his own. He doesn’t need anyone’s help. The only thing he has to be careful about is hunger.
If he doesn’t want to become feral he has to quench the thirst first. He already did the math; it's been three days since he last fed. Speaking in fledgling terms, Tim is days steps away from becoming feral. That’s a big no-no in Tim’s books.
Everyone knows what happens to feral vampires.
Tim doesn’t want to be put down.
Therefore,Tim's only alternative is: hunt. It doesn’t matter if it’s something Tim has never done before—he has to hunt as if his life depends on it. (His life does depend on it.) This is just a temporary measure until his parents come back home and restock their pantry.
Because he’s hungry.
So, so hungry.
Tim decides to strike around midnight. He waits until the sun dips below the horizon and all the humans have gone back to their houses, before he goes out. He can’t risk running into a human—in this altered state at least.
When he’s sure there’s no one around,Tim makes a dash for the back door. He runs, as far as his legs can carry him.
The forest welcomes him with open arms.
Soon enough, Tim is leaping through the air, pushing through the thickest part of the forest, with one objective in mind. But as the minutes soon trickle into hours, and there’s no creature in sight, Tim slowly starts to get worried.
He can’t spend all the night hunting. He’s so famished, he doesn’t think he has the energy for it. Every second Tim wastes means one step closer to becoming a feral fledgling, and Tim doesn’t want that.
By the time Tim stops by a clearing, he’s already feeling frustrated. No matter how much he searches and tears the ground apart looking for a small mammal, he still hasn’t caught anything. The acknowledgement makes a shiver run down his spine. He can’t go back, unsuccessful. Not with an empty belly again.
It’s not an option.
Then, out of nowhere, he smells blood.
Between the smell of the thick green foliage and the mud, Tim can sense the pungent and sugary scent of blood in the air. It is the scent that causes Tim’s mouth to start salivating and for his small fledgling fangs to protrude.
Like a shark scenting blood, Tim hones in on the scent. Whoever is hunting—someone who’s surely far more experienced and older than Tim is—cannot be that far away.
With that in mind, he starts running to where the smell is coming from. While Tim knows he’s no match, he can always scavenge the remains. Perhaps it’s not the most grandiose meal, but it's what other animals do.
Food is food.
A pair of twigs snaps under the weight of his steps as Tim keeps pushing forward through the thick foliage; he pays no mind to his tired legs and aching fangs. He’s hungry. He wants to feed. He’s so hungry he might go crazy.
What he’s not expecting is to meet Batman in the flesh.