Who: Tim and Bruce and npc Lynn Xue Where: Shanghai, China When: Years into the future What: Tim needs some rescue, and there's only one person who can really help now. It says something when Grandpa is willing to fly to China to do so. Rating: Low
"She won't sleep. I don't know why... And I really, really need your help." There had been screaming in the background the entire time.
Of course, even in their decade, it took time to get from the U.S. to China, where Tim had been living for the last seven years to run the Wayne corp branch there. They hadn't seen each other a great deal in that time. Usually visits once or twice a year. Mostly there were phone calls, texts, and video conferences to keep in touch.
This was the first time in all that time Tim had asked for help. Oh, Bruce had given him help, just knowing when he had needed some extra support here and there. But Tim had never called to ask until that day.
Tim winding up in China had been his own doing. He had manipulated things so he was the one to go. He'd just wanted out for a while, somewhere not Gotham for a time, re-find himself some. At first it had been just to straighten out and train new administration there, help streamline and chase down excessive costs. It should have taken a year.
He'd just met someone. One year had turned into two, until it was obvious he was just making excuses not to return, those even more obvious when the rest of the family got the wedding invitations. It had been unofficial before. Now it was official. The mask was shelved. He was out of the other family business. Life was happy for him.
Life did like its curve balls, though. Which was why it was a single father with strain on his face and lack of sleep around his eyes that greeted Bruce at the door.
"Oh, hi." Tim stepped back, letting Bruce in. You're still such a giant presence. Sometimes I forget until I'm around you again. "You got here fast. Even for you." Tim stopped with his mouth open, mentally switching languages. It said something when he was so tired he didn't quite connect when he was speaking Shanghai's Wu dialect or Mandarin, which was what he thought in anymore, even though he still had to use English regularly in business communications. "Um, she fell asleep a little waiting for you in the sunroom." He pointed its direction. "First time she's been happy-ish all week was when she read that you were on your way."
Bruce would understand that. At four years old, Lynn could read and type (though she'd often just copy what she was reading or repeat previous text conversations, and didn't always understand context unless it was something she was already interested in). The problem was once she figured out she could, she wasn't interested in any verbal communication. That'd been a struggle shortly after she turned two, when she was already blurting sentences at odd times (she entirely skipped babbling and toddler speech). All the signs that had been piling up soon became obvious to Tim in his toddler, and she'd changed into an entirely different little person in the last two years. No smiles, very little speech, no eye contact without constant coaxing. Otherwise often she wanted to be in her own little shell with her tablet, with some days better than others.
She could be pretty upset when her father would try to make her surface. But for some reason... not Bruce.