Chapter Text
Tim pressed the call button on Bruce Wayne’s gate and waited, fingers drumming against his side. The school-day had been a long one, with Tim looking over his shoulder constantly. He’d thought that seeing Steph might have alleviated some of his anxiety, but she hadn’t shown up to school that day. The guilt ate at him, but it wasn’t just because of the overheard conversation, his evidence box, or him involving himself with the Bats in the first place. He was ashamed to acknowledge the slight thrill he felt at… everything. The danger and the unknown, he supposed.
“Wayne residence. Do you have an appointment?” A thin voice with an English accent sounded from the gate speaker.
Tim cleared his throat. “Uh no, but it’s an emergency, I think. I’m Timothy Drake, I don’t live too far from here.”
“An emergency, you think? You don’t sound too certain, is your family alright? Master Wayne isn’t here right now but I can ring the police or fire department if needed.”
“My family is fine, sir.” For now. “It’s related to Mr. Wayne’s other business.” Tim hoped that the man on the other end would know what he was talking about, if he was aware of Wayne’s nightly activities at all.
There was a brief pause, and Tim suspected that the man was mulling over what to do. “I’m letting you in. It’s a bit of a walk, so I’ll send a car down.”
“No, it’s alright, I’ll walk. There’s no need to go to the trouble.”
“I’m afraid I must insist.”
Tim relented, and a few minutes later, the gate opened and a sleek black car pulled up beside Tim. An elderly man greeted him from the driver’s seat, and he immediately recognized him both as the man Bruce had spoken to at the party, and the voice over the intercom. Tim slid into the passenger seat with a nod.
“Welcome, Mr. Drake. I gave Master Wayne a call and—seatbelt please.” Tim buckled his seatbelt. “And, fortunately, he wasn’t overly busy and is heading here now to discuss with you.”
“Thank you, Mr… ?”
“Pennyworth. But you may refer to me as Alfred.”
“Thank you, Alfred.”
They pulled up to the manor, and Alfred led Tim inside. The interior was hardly recognizable to Tim without all the decorations, refreshments, people, and general bustle. Like his own home, it didn’t quite feel like a place that people should live in. Considering his own background, he should be used to it, but his time in various boarding school dorms had been far more cozy than any of his family homes had been.
Alfred showed him to the sitting room—embarrassingly, the one he recognized as the room he had once fallen asleep in—and asked him to wait there for Bruce. “It should only be a few minutes. Can I get you anything to eat or drink?”
“Thank you, sir, but I don’t want to be a bother.”
“Nonsense.”
“Maybe, just some water then?” His throat was suddenly parched, though it was more likely that he was only just noticing it. When a glass of water was placed in his hands, Tim drank almost all of it in one gulp, apologizing to Alfred when he realized it may have seemed rude. Alfred only smiled and soon returned with another glass, which Tim was careful to only take small sips from this time.
Bruce arrived, taking a seat across from Tim. Tim smiled, but Bruce did not return it. “Did something happen?”
Tim gave him a quick run-down of his box of “evidence” and the break-in, hardly breathing as he tried to get all the information out before he lost his nerve. As he finished, he found himself mumbling an incoherent string of apologies. “I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
Bruce raised a hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s my own fault for not speaking to you somewhere more secure.” Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose, looking far older than he was. “I believe your robber to either be the spy from the party, or someone affiliated with them, and I know who sent them.”
“Who?”
“I’ll handle it.” Bruce stood up, and Tim bolted up after him.
“I’m worried about my parents,” Tim said. “I know I’ve sort of been digging my own grave, here, but they were in my house . You can’t just dismiss it as something you’ll handle, I need to know what’s going on.”
Bruce stared at him, and Tim stared right back, cursing himself for taking a small step back as he did so.
“I’ll have some people keep an eye out around your home,” Bruce said at last. “They’ll alert us if they see anything suspicious and will step in if anything happens. And, if that’s not enough, here… ” Bruce scribbled down a couple phone numbers on a sheet of paper. “This is my cell phone number in case anything happens. The second one is Dick’s if you can’t get a hold of me.”
Tim took the sheet of paper and put it in his pocket, planning on entering the numbers into his phone as soon as he left the manor. “Thank you.” Now that he had some form of protection against… whatever this was, the guilt wracked through him once more. He was really in over his head and making a mess of things. And for what? The thrill? A chance to feel like he was a part of something larger than himself? What was worse, he didn’t think he was going to stop anytime soon. “Sorry for the trouble.”
Bruce frowned. “This is… this isn’t your fault. I’ve been… ” He clenched his jaw and grimaced, as if his next words were painful to get out. “ … struggling with managing some of my assets. I’ve made some mistakes. It’s not something I want to or should discuss with you, but I’m the adult and I should have known better.”
Tim watched Bruce, tempted to push for more. The man could be difficult to read no matter which identity he was presenting, but right now the war he was waging with himself was so close to the surface that Tim felt like he could breach it with only a few prods. Instead, he said, “Thank you Mr. Wayne. You’ve been… you’ve been really nice about all of this.”
Bruce released a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “I’m glad you think so, but I can’t say it’s deserved.” He looked tired, and Tim wondered when he found the time to sleep between running a business during the day and running a group of thieves during the night.
~
Steph lay in bed with a blanket pulled over her head. She had cuts and bruises all over, and no position saved her from the throbbing pain where her bruises met the bed. When her mom had come in to wake her that morning, she’d coughed and claimed sick, and luckily her mom hadn’t probed her too much about it.
The night before, she had found a young woman, probably only a few years older than her, being mugged. Luckily, it had only been two goons armed with knives, rather than firearms, and some of her self-defense training had come in handy. She’d managed to disarm and distract them long enough for the woman to escape, and she’d even given the muggers a few nasty bruises herself.
Steph flinched and turned over to her side. Okay so she’d taken a few… dozen hits. And it could have been so much worse. But she’d do it all over again. The woman had gotten away safely, and this was a learning experience. Next time, she’d be more prepared. Maybe she couldn’t fight her way through this like a traditional hero. Especially when those traditional heroes wouldn’t even touch Gotham with a ten-foot pole. She needed a strategy.
~
“Heard you haven’t gone stealthin’ in a while,” Red Hood said, wearing a mask, but no helmet, while sitting on Tim’s bed and flipping through one of his books. It had been a few nights since Tim had spoken to Bruce about the break-in, and luckily, no other incidents had occurred. Tim thought he’d managed to spot a few of Bruce’s employees surveilling his home. At least, he thought they were Bruce’s employees. They’d given him a nod when Tim had made eye contact.
“Why are you here?” Tim asked.
“Curious about what you’re up to,” Red Hood said, though he said it in such a way that it did not sound like he was curious at all. Tim flinched. The news of the break-in must have gotten around.
“If this about the documents being stolen, I’m really sorry.”
Hood closed the book, tossing it aside and reaching for a different one. Tim bent to pick it up and put it away. “I don’t give a damn about any documents, short-stack,” Hood said. “Just wondering why you haven’t been spying lately.”
Tim stared at him in confusion for a moment before realizing it had been almost two weeks since he’d last patrolled for the Bats, which was unusual for him, true, but not all that long of a break. “My parents are home. I didn't want them to notice that I’ve been sneaking out. And then, you know, someone was in my house going through my stuff so I’ve been a little on edge.”
Red Hood leaned back in Tim’s bed, crossing one leg over the other and holding the open book above him. “Is it really sneaking out if you only do it when your parents aren’t here? What happened to Stealth Master Tim?”
“Nobody has ever called me that,” Tim said flatly. “It may not involve literal sneaking, but I think it still counts considering I’m technically not supposed to be going anywhere that late. They’re leaving in a few days anyway, so you’ll probably be seeing more of me soon.”
“Probably?”
“Yeah. Starting to meet the consequences of my actions, and all that. I feel like I’ve thrown a wrench in a well-oiled machine and now everything’s going to crap.”
Jason sat up, snorting. “If a wrench as small as you can fuck us up, I think we have bigger issues to worry about than you. Regardless, I think it’s good that you’re hesitant. The streets at night are no place for a kid, if they can help it.”
Tim was about to say that Bruce had said something similar, but instead he found himself protesting, “I’m not a… but Damian… ”
“Damian is a special case, and I hardly consider him human let alone a child.”
That was harsh. Damian may have been a bit… snobbish and rude, but he was clearly still a child. That night at the gala, Damian had been… vulnerable, like he was about to fall apart at any second. Tim didn’t doubt that the kid was tough. He had to be, to be living the lifestyle he was. But he also didn’t think the kid was getting the childhood that all kids deserved, and that had to be messing with him on some level.
“If you’re scared, that’s good,” Jason continued, “It means you actually have a sense of self-preservation. If you want some advice, I’ll tell you what my mother always told me: stop doing stupid shit.”
“Stupid shit like saving your life?”
“Maybe I need to stop doing stupid shit, too.”
“But you won’t. Stop doing stupid shit, that is.”
“Alright, no need to be a smartass. The repetition is getting annoying.”
Tim felt a little lighter than he had when talking to Bruce a few nights ago. The casualness was easier, somehow. A thought came to Tim. Maybe Red Hood wouldn’t mind if he asked. “Has Bruce told you I know your other identities?”
“I heard it through the grapevine, yeah.”
“Okay, can I just… are you… ” Tim really didn’t know how to ask this.
“Spit it out.”
“Are you Jason Todd?”
Hood tensed, but relaxed almost immediately, as forcefully as it was possible for someone to relax. “Yeah.”
“Can I call you Jason, then?”
“That’s it?” Jason stood and began wandering around Tim’s room. “Sure, as long as we’re not in public. It’s been a while since someone outside the family has called me by my given name. The whole being dead thing, and all.”
Now for the really hard one; Tim bit the bullet for the sake of his curiosity. “Can I also ask why you did it?”
Jason narrowed his eyes. “Why I did it?”
“Yeah. Why did you… ” Was there a way to ask this in a non-insensitive way? “Why did you fake your death?”
Jason’s anger immediately dissipated, replaced with a throaty laugh. “No beating around the bush with you, huh? There was no faking about it. I was actually dead. I came back. Long story. But you see where I’m coming from when I say this shit is too dangerous for kids, right? Most of us had backgrounds in this stuff before joining with Bats, so this is kind of an outlet for us. But you don’t. And it’s hard to get out once you’re in.”
“I’m not planning on participating in any of your criminal activities or anything. I’m just a spectator.”
“You sure can be entertaining. Theft isn’t exactly a spectator sport.”
“It is for me,” Tim grinned and dodged a lighthearted swipe to his head, thankful for the break in tension. Jason’s story did explain why he was simultaneously one of the friendliest of the Bats, in his own weird way, and one of the most opposed to Tim’s presence. But he had to wonder, how could someone come back from the dead?
“Hey,” Jason said, opening up one of Tim’s drawers, “where are those documents the trespasser went through anyway?” Tim suspected Jason had already searched his room for them, and probably already knew where they were. He’d had enough time to read, after all.
“I thought you said you didn’t care about that?”
“I don’t care that they got stolen, but I want to see what you got on us.”
Jason waited, and Tim pulled out one of the boxes hidden between some other boxes of old schoolwork. He’d considered hiding them somewhere else, but he hadn’t been able to think of anywhere hidden enough where his parents or their staff wouldn’t come across it. Besides, the damage had already been done and he didn’t particularly want anyone going through any of the other rooms in his home.
Jason went through some of the photos and articles before halting at a sheet of paper. He scanned the contents of the document, his eyebrows knitted together. “Hey, kid, did you come up with this?”
Tim leaned over Jason’s shoulder to see what he was talking about. It was one of his notes planning out his own heist he would never actually carry out. Tim’s cheeks flushed, and he snatched it out of Jason’s hand and clutched it to his chest. “Sorry this is just… something stupid I was doing.”
“Please tell me you aren’t planning your own theft.” Jason sounded both exasperated and mildly impressed.
“Of course not! The fun was in the planning, okay? I didn’t mean for you, or anyone else, to see it.”
Jason grunted, his eyes still on the sheet of paper and his hand outstretched. Tim reluctantly handed it back to him, and Jason studied it again. “You haven’t shown that to B, have you?”
“No. Like I said, it’s just for me.”
“Good.”
Tim surprised himself at how much the “good” stung. “Is there… something wrong with it?”
Jason shrugged, tossing the paper to the side.“It’s just really flawed. Don’t want you wasting anyone’s time.”
Tim’s heart sank. He really hadn’t been planning on showing anyone, but somewhere deep down, he’d liked to think his plans were viable. Part of the fun, after all, had been imagining their success. “Yeah, I know it’s stupid.” He grabbed the sheet of paper, crumpling it up in the process, and threw it into the wastebasket.
“You don’t gotta throw it away.”
“Is there anything else you need to look at?”
Jason stared at the wastebasket before shaking his head and standing up. “I’ll see you around, okay? Stay out of trouble. And maybe find a new hobby.”
~
Fuck. The kid had potential. Like freakish potential. He hadn’t been lying about the flaws, but the idea itself was some Bruce or Babs-level shit. Bruce didn’t need any more temptation to bring another kid aboard his little “family.”
It was for the best, so he didn’t know why he felt so guilty about putting down the kid’s scheming. Maybe it was the bitter taste of smothering out someone’s talent before they’d even gotten started. Screw it, it had been a soft put-down. He hadn’t yelled or called him worthless or anything.
At least the kid didn’t appear hurt anywhere, and he hadn’t found any evidence of foul play in Tim’s room, or any of the adjacent rooms.
Jason considered pulling a job that night to loosen his nerves a bit, but thought better of it. Instead, he kept an eye out around Tim’s neighborhood.
~
“I think I’ve waited long enough, Bruce”
Batman stepped out of the shadows, eyes narrowed, though he made no move to fight. He suspected this to be nothing more than a social visit. “I’d prefer it if you wouldn’t use my name in the field.”
Ra’s al Ghul smirked, but there was no amusement in it, only biting mockery. “What else am I to call you? No complimentary title has fit you as of late, and I will not stoop to petty insults.”
Give it time , Bruce thought. “What do you want, Ra’s.”
He didn’t answer immediately, instead strolling around Batman in a wide circle, studying him. “Do you remember what you told me, Bruce?” He spoke as if he were uttering musings to himself instead of directing the conversation towards the Bat. “You said you’d control the city, every last bit of it. Yet, last I checked. Cobblepott’s still got sizable control. Dent has actively been invading your territory. You haven’t been able to find Joker in years, let alone kill him. And the likes of Ivy and Scarecrow aren’t helping matters. You thought you could control things by being smart about it, but you’re just as bumbling as the rest of them.”
It was true, but none of Ra’s’ concern. Bruce would handle his own affairs, as he always had. “I hope this means your interest in my family has waned.”
“To the contrary, this has shown me how necessary my involvement is.” The condescension in his tone irritated Bruce to no end, but he remained rooted to his spot. Ra’s continued, “No matter how much of a fool you’ve been in recent years, you still have great potential. And regardless of my intentions, your involvement with my family is too steep for me to turn a blind eye. You need me, Bruce. You’ve built an empire from nothing, but you’ve overextended yourself. Like every great empire, you will eventually fall if you do not take action to remedy that.”
Ra’s always had a flair for the dramatic. “I’m doing fine.”
“Fine? My spies have had very little trouble bypassing your security and accessing information. A teenage boy with no formal experience was able to hack into accounts related to your company and discover exactly who you are. Criminals you supposedly have under your control break the ‘rules’ you’ve instilled in them regularly. You and your family are exhausted, and you cannot tend to everything at once. There aren’t enough people you can trust to cover your blindspots. I could help you, and all that I ask is that you return the favor.”
“No.” He refused to owe anyone so much of himself, let alone a man who’d likely ask for his help in the destruction of humanity. Bruce didn’t need lofty ideals mixed in with his plans, especially when his initial goal had already become so muddled along the way.
Ra’s scoffed. “You believe yourself to be a businessman, but you truly are only a thief. You are a clever man, Wayne, I know you are. Yet all you do is take without prudence.”
“I’ve never claimed to be anything else. You’re the one clinging on to something that was never there.”
“Maybe I could write you off as being just like the rest of humanity if you hadn’t inserted yourself so deeply into my own life.”
Ah . “This is about Damian.”
“This is about my family, of which I’ve graciously accepted you to be a part of. You’ve taken my daughter, you’ve taken my grandson, and now you’ve even taken me in with the potential you’ve shown. Our family could be great, but you offer nothing.”
Bruce hated that word: taken . The implied possession over Talia and Damian. Bruce may have been a man of greed and envy—a man who wanted to own and control everything. But people weren’t things. He may… influence people’s decisions through bribery and fear, but the idea of thinking of any of those people as his disgusted him to his core. “I haven’t taken anyone, Ra’s. Talia is her own person who can do as she pleases. I haven’t spoken to her in months, and even if I had, it’s not because I’ve taken her from you. As for Damian, he is my son, and Talia and I both agreed that he’d be better off with me.”
“Better off? If he survives the storm you’ve created, it’ll only be because of the League’s training. Heed me, Wayne. Your situation is precarious. The removal of a single pin would bring you and your entire family to its demise. Don’t make me be the one to pull that pin.”
“I have no desire to work with you, Ra’s.”
Ra’s sighed. “So be it.” He turned his back on Bruce before calling over his shoulder, “One last thing, Bruce. The idea that my son, or any of your so-called family , are better off with you is laughable. You’ve never been able to protect anyone, and sometimes I wonder if you even want to.”
Ra’s was gone. And Bruce stood on the rooftop for a long time.
~
Ra’s seethed. Bruce’s insolence had been amusing at first, but it was now an annoying thorn in his side that he could never quite be rid of. The helicopter lurched upward, and the idea of leaving empty-handed only stoked the flames of his fury.
He glanced at the file folder sitting next to him, and a thought came to him.
“A moment, Ubu. I have one more stop I’d like to make.”
~
Early in the morning, Tim heard a knock at his door. He peered through the peephole to see an older man wearing loose, but fine green garments with a cape. There was a chance he was just an eccentrically-dressed business partner of his parents, but considering his recent run-ins with villain henchmen, he highly doubted it. Tim wondered how long he could ignore the man before he simply broke in.
“I can hear you on the other side of the door, Timothy. I have a proposal for you, and I would appreciate your compliance.” The man paused. “The men I have stationed at your parents’ place of work would also appreciate your compliance.”
Tim opened the door, his stomach sick.
“That is greatly appreciated, Timothy.” Ra’s stepped inside past Tim without invitation, and Tim peered past him to see if Bruce’s bodyguards were still there, but he didn’t see them.
“If you are looking for Bruce’s muscle, I persuaded them to leave. I’m sure they’re contacting your friends as we speak, so I will cut to the chase. My name is Ra’s al Ghul of the League of Assassins. I would like to offer you an apprenticeship.”
Tim’s mind was on the fritz. The only significant detail he gained, apart from the man’s name and status, was the fact that he was familiar enough with Bruce to know his name, but everything came to halt when the word “apprentice” left the man’s mouth. “Come again?”
Ra’s smiled what might’ve been a kind smile if the whole situation wasn’t so threatening. “I would like you to train under me. As far as I can tell you have not directly aligned yourself with the Bats as of yet, and I’d like to offer you a better alternative. Train under me, and if you do well, it’s possible that I will name you my heir. The Bats have already reached the height of their power and they’ll fall quickly if things continue as they do. I can assure you that the League is the better option in the long-term.”
Training? With the League of Assassins? Images of the ninja that Red Hood had shot floated around in Tim’s mind. “That’s… a lot. I’m assuming you’re in charge of whoever went through my room.”
“I am.”
Then, he remembered that Red Hood had pocketed something from the corpse, something small. He hadn’t even really looked at it, suggesting it was expected. Had Ra’s intentionally left something behind in the ninja’s pocket for Red Hood? If that had been the case, the ninja’s death was likely also intentional. Tim didn’t think Ra’s took particularly good care of his employees as he suggested. Better alternative, his ass. Then, there was his conviction that the Bats would soon lose their foothold in Gotham.
“Alright, I’m sorry but I’m not interested.” Tim could imagine himself signing his own death warrant as the words left his mouth. “I wouldn’t be a good asset for you. It sounds to me like you’re just trying to make Bruce mad, or that this offer is a part of something else you have planned. I’m not going to be much use to you in getting back at Bruce or whatever it is you want to do. He doesn’t have any plans of asking me to join him. There isn’t any reason to. I’m a nobody with no experience, no training, and no desire to be involved in any schemes.” A nagging whisper in his head knew that that last part was a lie. “If this is about the documents you got from me, I know that none of what I found was truly hard to find. Most people just aren’t looking for it.”
“Hm. In some ways you are correct. None of what you’ve accomplished would be particularly spectacular if you do not consider the context. However,” Ra’s placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder, causing him to tense up. “You are a civilian with relatively impressive hacking and investigative skills, especially for someone so young and with no formal training. I see potential in you. And, as you said, most people don’t see because they are not looking. Perhaps I need people who are.”
A lump formed in Tim’s throat, and he swallowed slowly before speaking. “I’m sure there are a lot of people looking to join you with much more experience than me.”
“Experience, while necessary, can be a hindrance in some circumstances. It is difficult to guide a student’s growth when they are already too sure of themself. Too arrogant in their own knowledge and wisdom to learn.”
“I’m still not interested.”
“Have I mentioned that I can extend your lifespan?”
Tim resisted the urge to ask how. “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t particularly want to become an assassin.”
“You wouldn’t only be an assassin. You would be a leader, setting the path to a new world. But perhaps I could make an exception and make use of you as a thief. You do enjoy a good heist, don’t you?”
Tim wanted to hide behind his hands, but the pressure of Ra’s’ hand on his shoulder kept him frozen. One of his heist schemes had been among the documents stolen, hadn’t it. He should’ve thrown each of those out the moment he finished them. No, he should have burned them.
“If you wanted to be really useful, you could persuade the Bats to join me, as well. After all,” Ra’s held up a file. “I noticed you gathered a few instances of theft outside of Gotham that you suspect the Bats committed. Now, one of the main… understandings between the Bats and the Superhero community is that the Bats don’t extend their reach outside of Gotham. Bruce has enough trouble keeping the Justice League from interfering in his plans here. Imagine if they found out about some of these crimes.”
And there it was: the scheme within a scheme. Ra’s considered him a stepping stone to getting to Bruce. Using him was probably just his way of taunting Bruce for his mistakes.
The loud whir of an engine and rotors interrupted Tim’s thoughts. He’d heard the sound before, dismissing it as he would any noisy aircraft flying overhead, but this sound was getting closer.
Ra’s sighed. “It appears that my ride is here. I’ll give you some time to consider my offer. I hope you are less disappointing than Bruce.”
~
Tim closed the door shakily behind Ra’s, and was about to press call on Bruce’s number when another knock sounded from his door. Hesitantly, Tim peaked out to see Dick in civvies standing outside.
“Dick?”
“Tim, you’re here.” Dick sounded relieved. He turned his head to the side and spoke into his communication device, “Found him… Yeah, that sounds good.” Then, to Tim, he continued with his voice low, “Jay and Cass are trailing Ra’s, then they’re gonna meet back up with us. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” Tim said. “He didn’t do anything. Just talked.”
“Did he threaten you?”
“More like he threatened you guys. He asked me to join him. Then asked me to ask you guys to join him, too.”
Dick wrung his fingers through his hair, and somehow seeing him in civilian clothing made his stress a hundred times more palpable than it had ever been in his Nightwing persona. “Man, he’s getting desperate.”
“He seemed confident enough to me.” Tim ran through his conversation with Ra’s in his head, trying to pick out the most important details. “He said he’d inform the Justice League about some of your thefts outside of Gotham.” Tim looked down, sheepishly. “He’s going to show them some of the documents I put together.”
“He would,” Dick bit out. “That could present a problem for us. Bruce has worked hard to make sure no superheroes run here.” He returned to the front door and quickly scanned the yard. “We need to talk. All of us. Plan out what we need to do next.”
“Where to?”
“One second.” Dick turned away and began speaking into his intercom again in a hushed tone before returning his attention to Tim. “Looks like Ra’s has already left Gotham. We’ll meet the others back at the Cave.”
“The Batcave?”
Dick shot him a half-hearted grin. “The Batcave.”
Tim followed Dick out to a motorcycle parked outside his house. It was a mundane one, not one of the lavish vehicles the Bats road to make a statement. Dick tossed Tim a helmet, presumably his own since he wasn’t wearing one himself. “Hop on back.”
Tim obliged, wrapping his arms tightly around Dick’s waste as Dick revved the engine. He prepared to have to hold on for dear life, but to his surprise, Dick neither sped or weaved through cars on the way to the second surprise: Wayne Manor.
“Is the Batcave what you call Mr. Wayne’s house?” Tim asked as he slid off the motorcycle.
“Nope. Mr. Wayne’s house is just on top of it.” Dick clapped Tim on the back, and Tim grinned up at him, excitement growing. The events leading up to this visit should have been enough to make him apprehensive, and he had to admit he still was, but man did he want to see the Batcave.