Chapter Text
The screen of the Batcomputer filled the Batcave with a soft glow, until the motion-activated lights flickered on. Nightwing walked into the cave, and sighed, seeing Tim asleep at the computer desk.
Nightwing strolled over, and gently shook Tim's shoulder, "Tim, you should go get some real sleep, in your bed. Where it's quiet."
Tim answered with a groan, his hand coming up to rub the sleep out of his eyes. "It was quiet in here until you stomped in with all the grace of a rhino in heels."
Nightwing snorted, "Could a rhino in heels do this?" He stretched into a casual cartwheel then walked around on his hands for a moment, before flipping back onto his feet.
Tim rolled his eyes, "Probably." His gaze flickered back to the screen, back to the blood trail that had haunted his dreams.
Nightwing looked at the screen, studying the image for a moment, "That's a lot of blood. But where's the body?"
"Exactly what I'm trying to figure out."
"Walk me through it?"
Tim leaned back in the chair, his eyes never leaving the screen. "Well, I was on patrol earlier tonight–" he looked at the time at the bottom corner, "Okay technically yesterday. I arrived at the FastStop, the little convenience store pretty close to Gotham U, and I found these two guys tied up. It looks like they robbed the store, and they murdered the clerk."
"Oh, so why did the drag the clerk down a random aisle? And who tied them up?"
"They didn't move the clerk's body. The footage from the cameras becomes unusable. It's totally grayed out and I've tried running it through all sorts of filters. The footage is corrupted basically until I walk into the store." Tim pulls up the camera footage, and Nightwing watches it intently. He sees the robbers enter the store, sees the clerk get shot, and then watches the robbers start trying to open the ATM. There's about two minutes of them working, when one of them looks towards the door, and then the footage turns into TV snow. It stays TV snow until it slowly fades away, leaving Red Robin standing in the doorway, and a bloodstain on the ground where there hadn't been one before. The two robbers were tied up and sat next to the counter.
"Well, that's something you don't see everyday."
Tim nodded, "I'm probably going to loop Bruce in on it soon if I can't get any solid leads, but I did get a sample of the blood and I'm running it for DNA analysis. The suspect testimonies were weird too, about as fuzzy as the footage was. No traces of drugs in their system either." He pushed back from the desk, and stood up from the chair. "I think I'm looking for another victim and one other person who moved that victim. Problem is, I don't know why they were there or where they went. And before you ask, there wasn't usable footage from the outside cameras."
"Tim, if anyone can solve a case with no leads, it's you." Nightwing said, sincerely. "Also, it's Wednesday, don't you have your class this afternoon?"
Tim groaned, "Yes, don't remind me."
"Too late. Go get some sleep. You can get a few hours in before you have to leave." Tim rolled his eyes, but left the Batcave and headed into the manor. He went to his room and changed out of his suit and into his outfit for the day. It was more efficient, even if Dick might argue that he should've changed into pajamas. Tim crawled into bed, and plugged his phone into the charging cord by his pillow. He set an alarm for 1:30, which would give him enough time to get up and make it to Gotham University for his 2:30 English class.
At the alarm, Tim rolled out of bed and made his way downstairs, stopping to grab a quick snack from the kitchen.
"Need a ride, Master Tim?" Alfred asked, stepping out from behind the pantry door.
Tim was going to shrug off the offer, but he did want to look through the results of the DNA analysis, which should have been completed by now. "Actually Alfred, that'd be really great." He snagged a protein bar from the basket of quick snacks, and then found his backpack and laptop. Alfred had already gone out to the car, so Tim went to the garage and climbed into the passenger seat.
They rode in a comfortable silence for a minute, Tim starting up his laptop and logging in. Alfred glanced over at him, "I am happy you took an in-person class, it's good for you to be around people your age."
Tim shrugged, his gaze still on his laptop, "It was kind of an accident, I didn't realize it was a hybrid class instead of fully online. But, it's been okay."
"Well, I hope you make a friend. The manor is always open if you decide to bring a guest home. All I ask is a little warning so I can prepare."
Tim didn't want to disappoint Alfred, "I'll keep that in mind, thanks." He didn't plan on bringing anyone over. His class was mostly full of other 21-year-olds but Tim wasn't exactly the social type. I'm far too busy with bat stuff anyways. He clicked into the tab with the DNA results and refreshed it.
ERROR: ANALYSIS INCONCLUSIVE
Tim's brow furrowed, and he clicked on the error message to get more information. "Contaminated sample?" He muttered, confused. He was sure he'd followed all the proper aseptic procedures. Well, if I grab the Red Robin suit I stashed in the Wayne Stadium lockers, I could stop by the FastStop after class today. "Hey, Alfred, I'll walk home. Thank you for the ride here though."
"Certainly," Alfred said, pulling the car up to the curb of the drop-off loop. "Dinner will be on the table at 6."
"Thanks Alfred." Tim stepped out of the car, his backpack slung over a shoulder and his laptop tucked under his arm. He headed into the building next to the library that held most of the English and Literature classes. Tim made his way up the stairs and down the hall, and found the classroom 217. He was early, thanks to Alfred, so he took a seat in the back corner.
Gotham University wasn't exactly many people's school of choice. Gotham City's reputation didn't do much to bring in students from out of state. Tim liked that Gotham University was flexible, offering a lot of online classes. They also offered good scholarships, hoping to bring in those out-of-state students. Tim had a full-ride, thanks to Bruce's generous donations to the university, but he was glad that scholarships were offered. Half of the students in his class were local to Gotham, and the other half had been steadily dropping out as the semester went on, moving back home.
The room got louder as more students filed in, taking their seats and getting their laptops out of their bags. The noise rose to a hum, people chatting to their friends and talking about the other classes. Tim tapped his foot against the desk, wanting to get back to detective work.
The professor, Dr. Chamberland, walked in. She was younger, and had a kind gaze, "Alright, let's get started for today. First off, great job on getting the discussion board assignment done. I saw some great posts and great responses. Please make sure you respond to two classmates every week. This week's discussion board is a smaller assignment. I want you to post your favorite poem and an analysis of it. Make sure to include the author if they're known."
The classroom door swung open, and Daniel – Danny – he'd been weirdly intense about that, stepped into the classroom. His gaze swung to the back corner, but on seeing Tim in the seat he often sat in, he scowled and moved towards the open seat at the front.
Danny sat, his hair looked unbrushed, the white bangs falling into his face while the rest of his black hair was fluffy. The hair reached the nape of his neck, and Danny's hand came up to rub there, as if he sensed Tim's gaze. Tim quickly looked away, bringing his focus back to his laptop with the discussion board assignment for this week already open on it. The post was blank. Tim didn't really have a favorite poem.
Dr. Chamberland brought up her slideshow presentation, "I wanted to share a few poems and then present an analysis as an example. Then we're going to discuss poem structures, and before you leave today, I'm assigning your partner for your mid-term. Any questions before we get started?"
With no questions, Dr. Chamberland dove into the lesson. Tim switched tabs often, between his notes and the error message from the DNA. The classroom was warm, and there was a healthy buzz of discussion. All Tim could think about was the dirty floor of the convenience store and the river of crimson marring it. Who did the blood come from? Why were they there? He shivered, then looked at the time. It was 3:50, and the class ended at 4.
Dr. Chamberland cleared her throat, "Your midterm is going to be a partnered project. I want you to look through this list of books that were banned and choose one you haven't read. You and your partner will read that book and then put together a presentation. You have three weeks. Ideally, you've picked out your book and started reading it by next week. I'll give you the first half-hour to work on your presentation and then the next week I will give you a full hour and possibly the entire class period. But don't count on getting it done just during class, you'll need to find time to discuss it together outside of class. Here's the list of partners. Feel free to move around the class to talk, and I'll see you all next week.”
Tim scanned the document for his name, finding it pretty quickly. And the name in the next column; Danny Fenton.
“Great,” Tim thought. “Hopefully he can stay awake long enough to present.” Tim had watched Danny take the seat in the back of the class and fall asleep multiple times now. No matter how much sleep he got in class, he always looked dead on his feet when the class was over.
The person next to Tim walked over to their project partner, leaving the seat open. Danny glanced back, and saw the empty seat. He walked over to Tim.
“He doesn't even have a backpack,” Tim judged, silently. He tapped his fingers against the keyboard, but didn't press any of the keys.
“Any preference on the book?” Danny asked, sliding into the open seat. His vivid blue-green eyes met Tim's.
Tim shook his head, “I haven't looked at the list yet.”
“Me neither. How about I give you my number and I'll try to text you a few books that sound interesting to me?”
“Sure,” Tim agreed, grabbing his phone from his bag, and opening a new contact. He handed it to Danny, who took it and started to type in his information. Tim studied Danny for a moment, noticing a slight dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.
“Here you go,” Danny said, handing Tim his phone back. “I'm pretty busy, but I will do my best to respond.”
“Thanks,” Tim said. “Are you taking a lot of classes?”
Danny nodded, “I'm taking 12 credits and I work.”
“Oh, where do you work?”
“I'm a barista,” Danny said. He looked at Tim for a moment. “I was about to ask where you work, but-”
Tim frowned a little, “I do work, even if you might think I don't.”
“Okay,” Danny said, obviously not convinced.
Tim almost wanted to tell Danny about all the work he'd put into earning his spot – actually earning it – at Wayne Enterprises, but he decided to drop it. “Okay, well I can look through the list too and we'll figure out what book we're reading soon.”
Danny nodded, “Sounds like a plan.” He stood up and left the classroom.
Tim shot off a quick text to Danny, “It's Tim from English class.” Then he packed his laptop and backpack and headed out towards Wayne Stadium.
The error message from the DNA analysis made no sense, but Tim would just collect some more blood and rerun the tests. Then he could start unraveling the events of the night before. He reached the locker, and put in the combination and then opened the hidden compartment in the back, grabbing his suit and dropping it into his bag. Tim would wait for it to get dark and go collect his sample. He strolled across campus to the library, and found a plush seat on the second floor. He sat down in it, opening up his laptop to look through the list of books they could choose from. Tim wrote down a few that sounded interesting, like, “Good Moon Rising”, and “Eight Seconds”. He'd look into those more later.
Once the sun started to set, Tim headed to the bathroom on the library's third floor. It was a single stall, so he put his suit on under his clothes, then headed off campus towards the FastStop. He ducked into an alley nearby, peeling off his clothes and donning his mask. Tim tucked his bag under a few boxes that lined the alley, and then peeked around the corner.
The coast was clear, a quiet street lit by the last blazes of the sun. Red Robin walked towards the FastStop, noting the caution tape marking off the doorway. He walked around the building, finding the back entrance, and quickly picking the lock.
The small convenience store looked much the same as yesterday, though the clerk's body had been removed and some evidence markers had been placed around the scene. Red Robin delicately walked around the large bloodstain, studying it. It looked like a drag mark, and yet there was no body that had been dragged at the scene. There was no way someone lost this amount of blood and lived though, so Tim had the sinking feeling he was looking for a body. The hair on the side of his arms stood up, and Tim felt a weird chill seep down his spine. He shivered, a primal fear settling in. He swept his gaze over the store, but saw nothing. There wasn't even a breeze from the AC vent, Tim doubted the AC even worked.
The stillness of the store felt unnatural, but Tim shoved aside the feelings and brought out a swab and a sterile test tube. He took a swab from the center of the bloodstain, the blood had dried and flaked at the touch, but he collected a good amount of it and then sealed the tube and the swab. He tucked the sample into his pocket, and then took out his camera and took a few more pictures of the scene.
Tim spotted a bullet casing; it had rolled under a shelf, and Tim grabbed it and held it up to the light. It was a casing from the same kind of gun used to kill the clerk, but this would be a second shot and the clerk had only been shot once. Tim tucked the casing into his pocket as well, then tried to find the bullet.
Maybe the gun had been shot as intimidation? He wondered, but despite a quick search, Tim couldn't find the bullet from this casing. Which meant it was likely still in his missing victim. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, irritated at the lack of answers. Red Robin walked the scene one last time, then left out of the back entrance.
As he rounded the corner towards the front of the store, he saw Danny Fenton setting a small bouquet of flowers down at the front door. Danny's head snapped up, and he made direct eye contact with Red Robin, (as direct as it could be through the mask), and Red Robin froze in his path. Danny's gaze remained hardened, his scowl deepening a little. Red Robin glanced at the flowers, they were a little bunch of white carnations – slightly crumpled, but sincere.
“Did you know the clerk?” Red Robin said, “I'm so sorry.”
Danny stood up, “His name was Matt, you asshole. Can't even bother to learn someone's name?”
Red Robin frowned, “I'm sorry, Matt seemed like a good guy. He was just doing his job.”
“Yeah,” Danny shrugged. He brushed the dirt off his knee, his knuckles scraped up. “Not that I'd help a cop, but I didn't know him, so I can't answer any of your questions.”
Red Robin paused, “I'm not a cop.”
“You're a bat. That might be worse.” Danny walked away, leaving Red Robin alone, the scent of crushed carnations hanging in the air.