DC OC story! The Kumars'-Tim POV

Most of the general public didn’t know Timothy Drake.

They didn’t know that he was stubborn and a very convincing person. He trained with Dick Grayson, after all. And he’s been lying to adults for most of his life. He knows how to get what he wants.

And right now? He wants to meet with his cousin.

He had been trying for a while to get them to meet with him. And, unsurprisingly, they (they. Not her. They weren’t a girl anymore.) were resistant at first. Tim could understand that. His mom was…not the best to them. Or their brother. Hopefully he could just get through this meeting, and then they would want to meet with him more often.

He opened the door, and a chain of bells above it jingled. He had looked into the deli before coming, and found that nothing shady was going on. The Kumars seemed to be nice people, too. Nobody had complained about them before, so it seemed like he didn’t need to worry about his cousin being close with them.

“Ah, how can we help you today?” an older man asked from behind the counter. He seemed to be Indian, based on his accent and looks. But those could be faked…

“Oh, I’m just here to see my cousin. S-They should be here soon, I think and-“ Tim began, and was quickly interrupted by a voice from in one of the aisles.

“Tim.” He turned and there was Bee (Not (deadname). They liked being called Bee now). They gave a small, awkward wave and nodded at him.

“I have the chai!” came a voice from behind the counter, which drew Tim’s attention back there, where a woman was now holding two cups of chai.

“Oh, how much-“ Bee interrupted before Tim could finish, again.

“Don’t waste your breath. They don’t let me pay for the chai I order.”

Tim waited for Bee to take a cup before taking his own. He took a sip and hummed at the flavor. It was better than any of the chai he’d tasted before. 

“This is good. Where’d you get this?” He asked. Maybe he could get some for himself?  

“Oh, there’s this lovely little online spice shop I buy from. It’s really amazing, you must see it. We get our spices from there and-“ the woman continued on for several minutes, prattling about spices before she was convinced to check on some food.

“Apologies. Now, what can I get for you two?” The man asked, smiling politely.

“I’ll take a chance on the daily special. What about you, Tim?” Bee asked, looking at him expectantly. Tim…didn’t know what to order. There was a menu, but he hadn’t really eaten here before, so he didn’t know what was good. Plus, he didn’t know much about Indian cuisine, and this was a firmly Indian deli.

He must have looked as lost as he felt, because Bee just ordered a second special and led him to some tables. Thankfully, they were by windows and in the front, so he could still see what was going on. Bee took a seat where they could see the door, and Tim took the chair opposite. Not his preference, but he could settle.

“So…how have you been?” He asked, picking at his cup awkwardly. He wanted to get to know Bee, and most of his life was public information. Other than a few well-kept secrets, of course.

“Oh, fine. You know how it is.” Bee seemed to be trying to dodge something, which got Tim’s detective sense on edge.

“Really?” He asked, sipping his chai.

“Yeah. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. All that jazz.” Bee waved a hand as they spoke, something they seemed to keep from childhood.

There were a lot of things different about Bee. For one thing, their hair was shorter. And less curly. And they had a plethora of scars. Some of their face, and probably more along their torso and arms. But those were just the surface level things. There were also little things that were different.

 They weren’t as confident around him as they were when they were younger. They picked apart the room carefully as they sat, glancing at the door and out the window as people walked past. There was less easy smiles and senseless chatter, and that only became more apparent as the conversation continued.

He tried goading them into a conversation a few times, but it was pointless. They were hiding behind silence and hand movements while sipping their tea and eating their masala. Where was the kid that talked about nonsense and story ideas? Where was the kid who complained loudly about their dress and shoes? This Bee was too guarded for his liking.

Eventually, they went their separate ways with a promise to meet again soon, and with that, Tim began the trek home. He had a lot to think about.