two sliders on a plate

Tim Drake Week Day 1

Title: Tim Drake and the Terrible Hangover

Rating: PG 13

Genre: brotherly silliness, hijinks, mild angst

Characters: Tim Drake and Jason Todd

Description: For Tim Drake Week day 1: First/Last. The first and last time Tim Drake got black out drunk was because of Jason Todd.

Note: I am a day late for this prompt! Sorry everyone, I didn’t get it finished in time.

Note 2: I am taking requests!

Note 3: Here is the masterlist of my Batfam fics

           “I’m going to kill him,” Tim said as he opened his eyes and cringed at the violent overhead light. His mind moved slowly, so unlike its usual frantic pace. He tried in vain to piece back together what happened. He knew two things immediately. One, he had a hangover that felt like an army of big band playing ants had taken up residence behind his right eye. Two, it was all Jason Todd’s fault.

He groaned, burying his head under his pillow. The fault had to belong with Jason. No other member of the Batfamily could get him to act so obviously irresponsible. Tim’s mind crawled through what else he knew.

His room at the mansion did not have overhead lights.

Tim reluctantly peeled back the pillow and squinted. Metal walls, small room. Not his. Not Jason’s apartment. He lifted his arms. Not chained. He groaned at what he had to do. He closed his eyes and drew on his years of intense training under Batman.

Then Tim forced himself up into a world that chose now to start spinning. He closed his eyes shut tight, waiting for the world to right itself. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw stars. No, it was not a side effect of the hangover, at least not directly. When he sat up in the metallic room, he looked out the window at the galaxy. Tim slowly stood and put his hand against the cold glass.

“What the actual hell?” he asked the empty room with a voice that sounded like he swallowed a cup of glass shards with a sandpaper chaser. Tim desperately searched for the last thing he remembered. The memory pushed its way through his haze.


25 hours before.

He stood in the Batcave folding the Robin uniform with the reverence one might fold a flag. It was his sacred emblem, his rallying symbol for all these years. His red, green, and yellow. He smoothed out every wrinkle and knelt, leaving it like an offering by the case of uniforms. He straightened slowly. Today was his last mission as Robin, his last time in the suit. The thought caused his heart to clench. He could hear Bruce and Damian talking about the mission just a bit off in another part of the cave. He had to go now if he did not want to run into them. His hand touched the glass case that still held Jason’s old uniform, once a memorial to a dead Robin and now a memento of a time past. As his own time was now passed. Tim’s throat tightened, and he left the cave through the back way.


Tim turned to see Jason Todd leaning against a tree with a knowing smirk.


“Come on. We’re going out. Yep, that’s right, it’s going down. I’m with Timber,” he sang the last bit, smiling widening.

“What are you doing here, Jason?” Tim said. His older brother slung an arm over his shoulder.

“It’s your last day as Robin.”

“I don’t feel like celebrating.”

“Ah, Tim. There is more than one reason to go out.”

“We are getting food. Then we are going to get roaringly drunk.”

“I’m a teenager.”

“And as I keep telling you, this is Gotham,” Jason smirked, “You want establishments who card, go to Metropolis.”


A few hours, two plates of sliders, extra helpings of chili fries, and several drinks later.

           “I worked hard to gain the trust he gave me,” Tim said, accenting each point with a wave of a fry. He leaned in uncomfortably into Jason’s airspace. “I worked hard. And he did trust me, then what? His surprise baby shows up and BAM!” Tim slammed the fry into a puddle of ketchup. “BAM, here Demon Wayne, have everything that was mine. Bruce probably will move him into my room next.” Jason grabbed Tim’s elbow and righted him on the chair.

           “Maybe less code name shouting in public, Babybird?” Jason said.

           “I’m a good soldier, Jason.” Tim poked his brother in the chest. “I am good.”

           “Yeah, you are.”

           “I did everything he asked.” Tim felt tears well up in his eyes. “What did I do wrong?”

           Jason leaned forward, “Two more over here. We’re going to need it.”

An unclear amount of time and drinks later.

           Tim chugged another shot of something he could not identify as Jason leaned against him, “You listen to me. You need to stop caring what Damian Wayne or Bruce Wayne or any old Wayne thinks of you. You are Tim Fucking Drake.” He sat up only to lean into his brother’s airspace. “You are better than all of them.”

           “I don’t deserve this.”

           “Here here!” Jason clanked his glass against the bar.

           “I should leave.”

           “There’s a fantastic idea.”

           “I should get as far away from this forsaken city with its crime, its corruption…”

           “It’s horribly dressed villains.”

           “and never come back,” Tim finished.


           Tim rubbed his eyes. He remembered buying a round of drinks for the room. He remembered Jason somehow convincing all the wasted people around them to sing “he’s a jolly good fellow” as a farewell. Then everything got fuzzy.

           The young former Robin walked to the door and pushed it open.

           “He’s awake!” Roy said, beaming at him.

           “Was he always so green?” Kori asked.

           “About time,” Jason said, ignoring the question. “Hey baby brother. Welcome to the outlaws.”

           One more memory popped into his brain as he stared at the smiling faces. Suddenly, he remembered seeing the lot of them the night before. He remembered being egged on as he…

           “Correct me if I’m wrong, but did I drunk dial Bruce last night?”

           Jason’s smile grew, and he nodded.

           “Did I tell Bruce he could kiss my ass?”

           “Uh huh,” Jason said, grinning even more.

           “Why do you think we had to leave the atmosphere?” Roy said.

           Tim Drake turned to watch the stars go by. What have I done?