TimBer Week 2024: Class Reunion
TimBer Week 2024 Day #5: Class Reunion
“Nice Lion-Guard statues at the opening gate. The lack of gargoyles helps you pretend you’re nowhere near Gotham proper.”
“Those were changed since I went here. I wonder if someone broke the front them again.”
“Can I ask what broke them before?”
“Cop car crashed into them while trying to chase after some rollerblading gang members.”
Brentwood Academy was a school Bernard had heard of many times, even before befriending someone who’d actually went there. His parent had asked his previously if he might want to go there, willing to scrap together the money for enrollment, but he’d declined. His excuse at the time was along the lines of “how can I grow as a well-rounded person with no girls around?” Looking back, it might have been his repressed fear that being around nothing but males would make it harder to hide the part of him that let his eyes linger a little too long.
Tim had been confused when the invite for his previous class’s 10-year reunion showed up in their mail. “I didn’t graduate with them. “You didn’t graduate at all, hon.” “Exactly!”
His guess was that the dean talked them into inviting him because it would look good if he turned up to the reunion and hobnobbed with their potential donors. The only reason Tim agreed to go at all was that he had a few friends he hoped to see there. Tim RSVP’d himself and one guest, that of course being Bernard.
For his part, Bernard was more interesting in seeing how many students at this school were in love with Tim – he’d clocked maybe half the Greive’s population and ad taken great pride in rubbing his relationship status in all of their faces. He’d gone to elementary school with some of them; they’d pulled his clothes or stolen his juice boxes. So it was just fair game to steal the heart of their high school idol. Bernard was ready to flaunt his claim over any other men who’d gotten their awakening from the marvelous Tim Drake as well.
They parked the car and were following the directions of one of the senior boys - their little blazers were so charming - when the bark of a dog made pause. It broke through the manicured bushes that separated the parking lot from the main grounds, revealed to be a tan-colored pug running at full tilt. Everyone in the area froze to watch the dog as it cut through the cars but only one person made a move towards it.
“No way,” Tim breathed at Bernard’s side, putting out a hand with a face liked he’d seen a ghost. “Cardigan?!”
The dog slowed, looked back to Tim, then changed direction to come his way.
With a mystified look, Tim crouched down as the little creature reached him, putting tiny paws on the knees of his expensive slacks, tail wagging with glee. “You’re still…oh, wait.” Tim hooked a finger into the dog’s collar, pulling it up so he could read the name tag. “Cardigan III. I guess that makes more sense.”
There was a sadness in those words and Bernard instinctively gripped the other man’s shoulder in comfort, despite not understanding its source. Experience told him that the answers would unveil in time anyway, even in the next thirty—
“Cardy! There you are. I’m so sorry, sirs.” A student cut around the bushes, holding a leash in his hands and panting. “He got away from me.”
“No problem, sport,” Tim said as he rose to his feet. One hand slipped into his pocket, giving him a look of perfectly amicable suburban dad. He was channeling serious Brucie Wayne energy without even knowing it. “I can’t think this is the same Cardy I used to play fetch with when I was a student here.”
“Oh, no, sir,” the boy answered, attaching the leash to Cardy’s collar. “Cardigan Sr. and Jr. passed away a long time ago. This is Cardy the Third.”
Tim sighed, absorbing that information with downturned eyes. The boy picked up Cardy the Third and carried the dog back to the side of the building, promising treats if he would just be more agreeable.
“Cardy Sr. and I were really close,” Tim said to Bernard as they linked hands, following the people who were heading to the building's front entrance. “We had a lot of adventures together, even if I didn’t want him chasing me around.”
“Maybe we should get a dog?”
“We have enough animals to feed as it is. And I’m not just talking about the cats.”
Bernard just laughed and squeezed his hand tighter.
The opening presentation was unimpressive, taken up mostly by a PowerPoint that described Brentwood’s prestigious history. They also learned about the various alumni of Brentwood who went on to create successful careers. Bernard could imagine the school board grinding their teeth that they couldn’t add one Timothy Drake-Wayne to that list. But hey, no school could.
Though one man that was bragged in the slides was a friend Tim sought out after they were allowed to mingle.
“Kip!” Tim pulled the equally short, though quite a bit thicker, male into a tight hug. Kip Kettering looked surprised by Tim’s enthusiasm.
“It’s great to see you too, Tim! Well, to see you in person and not in another Elites of Gotham magazine cover.”
Tim groaned, though that could remove his smile at the ribbing.
“No really, who would have thought our Tim Drake, wrangler of explosive dorm fights and hero to nerds everywhere would grow up to be a CEO? I bet your board meetings look like the war room scenes from the best action movies.”
“Being honest with you, they feel like that sometimes though usually I’m going to war against the rest of them.” Bernard and Kip both laughed. “I swear, they'll get maybe five more years out of me, then I’m quitting and becoming a househusband!”
That statement reminded Kip that they had skipped an important introduction. “Oh, you must be Bernard!” The two shook hands. “I saw the wedding announcement on LiveWire. Congrats to you both!”
“Thank,” Tim said, his smile like sunshine which told of how relieved he was by the positive response. “I’d wondered if I should invite you guys but…”
“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times, or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”
“But you weren’t sure about how supportive we would be,” Kip cut to the chase, nodding his head in understanding. “I get it, man. Events like this, you never know if the people you were friends with have grown with the times or cartwheeled backwards. You have to be careful!”
“What about you, though?” Tim asked, wrapping an arm around Bernard’s waist. “I never thought you’d end up a movie producer, but then again, it does track. You were always more critical of your movies than your taste in books.
Kip shrugged, not denying that. “Well, I graduated school with a tidy bit of money in my pockets so I thought, why not apply myself into something that interest me instead of a mindless computing degree. I guess you can’t really relate to that, can you?”
“Damn Kip, when did you get so brutal?”
“Since I moved out to Hollywood.”
“Hey, Timbo!” A boisterous baritone voice cut through the ruckus of the room, turning the attention of their group specifically. A very tall man shouldered his way through various bodies, his skin-tight clothing showing the cut of bulky muscles as he charged their way.
“Buzz Cohen,” Tim said, smirking at the approaching man where Kip grinned through an exasperated sigh. Tim put out a hand to shake but Buzz captured it and pulled the raven-haired man into a hug. "You sure look calm for a professional football player in a room of soccer-school alums."
“And you sure look respectable for a high school dropout!” Buzz clapped Tim on the shoulder, hard enough to bruise. A hit like that wasn’t anything Tim could take but he still faked like he was ready to fold in the knees. “You got adopted by a millionaire, took over his company, and you even got married all before we got to see you again!”
Tim elbowed Buzz in the ribs, trying to be gentle with it, but the other man still winced. Now free, Tim straightened himself out and went about the proper introduction. “Kip Ketterling, Buzz Cohen, this is my husband, Bernard. Bern, this is Kip and Buzz, some of my best friends while I went to Brentwood.”
“It’s nice to meet you to. And also, thank you. Now I know why Tim never mocked my name in school.”
Bernard listened to Tim and his friends recount their adventures in Brentwood. He had already hear these stories from Tim but it was nice to hear the parts he had intentionally left out. Like his failed attempt at soccer tryout (likely on purpose) or his various run ins with their former housemother. They shared a mutual disappointment that a few of their group - Ali, Danny, or Wesley – hadn’t shown up to the party but that changed to making plans for their own friend reunion. Bernard was interest to see how they would get the leader of a former-terrorist sect and the leader of a country to come all the way to Bristol for pizza. Moreover, he wondered what Bruce would do if he found out.
The group eventually split up with talk about other classmates to check on. They swapped contact info and promises to actually stay in touch this time.
Tim had patrol that evening, so they made a quick pass through the crowd to check for anyone else he knew well enough, then took Bernard back outside through a different way. There was a part of the campus Bernard had been dying to see ever since Tim had told him the unabridged version of his time in all-boys school.
“So that’s the legendary bell-tower, huh?” He’d seen it from a distance when they were driving up but now that the sun was starting to set, it gave the neglected structure a creepy vibe. A perfect hiding spot for a family of Man-Bats looking to raise their daughter and new baby son.”
“Yeah, this is the place. I snuck up with Cardigan Sr. and after we scared the Man-Bats out, I had to save the pooch from himself. And save my skin by doing so.”
They ventured closer but stopped when they noticed a collection of boys hanging around the entrance. Tim made a noise and when Bernard looked his way, his husband was looking at the kids intensely. “The boy with the blond hair; I think I know him.” He was the smallest of the group, light blonde hair and a sunny smile. “I think that’s Aaron Langstrom.”
“You mean the-” someone was approaching them “the science couple’s kid?”
“Yeah, the Langstroms worked with WayneTech for a bit, so I got to know him.”
“Good evening to you, Mr. Drake.”
Even Bernard had heard the old man coming up behind them, but he could see where it might freak you out if you were one of his students. He moved like a ghost.
Dean Nederland was perhaps some kind of immortal because Tim had showed him pictures of the Brentwood headmaster and he looked exactly the same, not an extra wrinkle to be seen even after ten years. Cardy the Third was at his side, pawing at his owner’s ankle. Bernard wondered idyll why the dean was walking his dog now when he had an entire group of alumni to be schmoozing for donations.
“Hello, sir. I hope you’ve been well.”
“I have Mr. Drake. Or is it Drake-Wayne, now?”
“Drake-Dowd, Sir,” Tim smiled, clasping his ex-headmaster’s hand firmly. “This is my husband, Bernard.”
“Hello,” Bernard greeted, given a handshake as well. The man’s grip was surprisingly firm for someone of his years. He was putting ‘vampire’ at the top of his theory list.
“I am pleased to meet you, young man. I hope you have found our Brentwood Academy lives up to its reputation. Perhaps you might consider sending your own son here someday.”
“I’m truly impressed by the place, sir. It’s a magnificent facility and Tim has told me of his many fond memories as a student.” This got a smile from the dean who nodded at Tim in something that could be pleasure or gratitude.
But Tim turned the discussion back to the previous point. “So that is Aaron Langstrom? I hadn’t realized he was old enough to attend here.”
“Yes, he began his first year with us this fall and has been a delightful child.” The dean sighed with an aged kind of happiness. “He was here for the tour and in the first five minutes, declared he felt very at home in our Brentwood. Hearing that was a great joy for me, I don’t mind telling you.”
Given that the meta-human had once spent his nesting years in that very belltower, Bernard could imagine why he found it “homey”. He wasn’t about to mention that to the dean, though. Let him have his happiness.
Dean Nederland spoke with them for a few minutes more before bidding them good night and continue to walk his peppy dog who did let Tim and Bernard pet him one last time. The moment they disappeared, though, the couple was approached by an entirely new group.
“Excuse me?” Aaron and his friends had made their way over, wearing expressions of hesitation but also curiosity. “Are you Tim Wayne? I’d seen you in one of the old school photos.”
“Oh cool,” said another boy. “Then, you were the guy that saved that guy who was kidnapped by that casino guy, right?”
“So you were also the guy that had a demon explode in his dorm room and cut up a dude who was protecting that Arabian prince?”
“Well, yes, but he was actually --”
“And you were here for when the original Sk8Bratz crashed through the campus gates and broke the front door?” “Idiot, we told you, it was the side gate and they broke the lions.” “Nuh uh.”
Bernard grinned at his husband. “Seems your reputation as a center of chao didn’t start in Grieves, hon.”
“No, it started when I was born,” Tim replied with a sly grin. And after quieting the bickering boys, set to work untangling their many stories of his Brentwood years and laying out the various cover stories he’d crafted for such situations.
The sun was fully set by the time they left the Brentwood Academy grounds, though they still had one more stop to make in Bristol Commons before heading to Wayne Manor.
“I’d see this place all the time when I was doing patrols around school,” Tim said as they took their orders and settled into an empty booth in the SunDollar coffee shop. “I was too busy to check it out when I’d just started classes and towards the end, I was under house arrest, so I never did get the chance.”
Bernard took a sip. “Sorry to break it to you, honey, but if it was just like this back when you were a student, you weren’t missing out on much.”
Tim took a sip, agreed to his point, then kept drinking it anyway.
They sat in comfortable silence for a while, holding hands over the tabletop. Until Tim said, “I keep thinking about when the dean said.”
“About us having a son someday? Because I’m pretty sure I put into the prenup that I wanted a girl as my first child, so don’t go buying any blazers or ugly ties in the near future.”
Tim waved that away, not even interacting with Bernard’s joke. “Specifically, about sending my own child to Brentwood.”
Bernard frowned. “You’d want to send them to boarding school? After how miserable that always made you?”
“I wasn’t thinking they’d have to live there like I did. They could just be day students and live at home. It’s just…that made me think about if I really liked or really hated my Brentwood experience as a whole. Even now, after all these years, I have mixed feelings about that time in my life. There was a lot of dangerous things I faced there, a lot of drama from outside the walls and inside of them. But there were also some really joyful moments. Experiences that I might not have bothered with until I was forced to act like a teenager and grew to kind of like it.” He sipped his coffee again, gazing out the window towards the silhouette of the belltower. “The guys there were all so different from my Gotham Heights friends, or my teammates, but they still made me feel like one of them. They taught me to feel like ‘one of the guys’ and I really did love that.”
Bernard grinned at his adorable husband. But a tiny, territorial part of his heart made him ask “Did you like going to Brentwood more than Grieves?”
“Hell no.” Tim turned to smirk at his husband. “Not just the fact that I met the love of my life at Grieves, but I got to actually be a kid there; no secrets, no Robin, no double life to get in the way. The Brentwood guys helped me learn what it meant to be a kid. But you and Darla…you made me see what it meant to be Tim Drake. You still do that for me, every day.”
Bernard grinned, knowing it was all kinds of mushy but not caring enough to stop. He let himself be pulled into a searing kiss, much hotter than this lukewarm coffee. He laced his other hand into Tim’s, delighted by the cut of the wedding band that he’d put there not long ago.
He hadn’t gotten to brag on any of Tim’s ex-suitors but that was okay.
They still had the Gotham High reunion two months from now.
This feels kind of more like a Brentwood Boys fic then TimBer but I love that stretch of Tim's comics. I couldn't NOT overdo it. Sorry if anyone else wanted to see Ali, Danny, or Wesley. Maybe someday in the future they can have Brentwood Boys reunion part 2.
And no, I don't know if Aaron Langstrom ever appeared in the comic universe again. But he should! And he should have a good life and become a student at the school that he grew up in.
