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According to what little CCTV footage they could recover, a bright light consumed Nightwing and left him in a muddled heap on the rooftop.
The person laying in his place was Dick Grayson, for certain, just… small. And wearing a Robin costume.
Damian had heard of de-aging before, of course. It just seemed more the sort of ridiculous thing Drake would fall victim to.
Father- previously occupied with Justice League matters -had been called and informed.
He now waits at his son’s bedside as the boy-again stirs.
“B?”
“Hey, chum.”
“You look... weird.”
Father has no problem shrugging off the implications in that statement about his age. Todd says far worse, far more explicitly, whenever they see him.
“Trust me, you look weirder. You were exposed to something on patrol, kiddo. We think it was magic.”
“Woah! Is my face, like, blue or something?”
Chuckling is not something Damian hears often, from his father. It’s nice.
“No, chum. You see, you’re sort of in the future, right now.” Experience has given Father something of a script, for explaining mishaps like this to the victim. “The you we know is 28 years old. If I’m right, you’re just about 13?”
“Woah! Yeah!” Grayson bounces a bit, in the bed. “I can't’ believe I’m in the future!”
Damian can’t help but smile at the boy’s enthusiasm.
Father explains to Grayson, about the various members of the household, (“Remember, chum, Alfred’s a bit older than you remember, you can’t go jumping on him like you’re used to.”) then signals for Damian to step forward.
The younger version of his mentor blinks at him. Then-
“You must be one of the younger siblings B was talking about!” Grayson lights up. The Robin feels something fond and warm in his chest, seeing how easily his mentor will adopt someone into his circles, even so young. “Damian’s already the best big brother, but I think I could do a pretty good job if I got the chance.”
“ What ?!”
---
Dick wakes up on a rooftop, with a version of Batman looming over him.
A weirdly familiar version, like Bruce but a bit thinner in build, darker in complexion-
“Oh my god, Damian ?!”
“Who the hell are you?” the older version of his Robin snarls, obviously having perfected the growl in the future.
“Woah- chill , Lil D.” Dick puts his hands up, displaying their lack of weaponry. “Do you seriously not recognize the suit? I thought this was my most iconic look!”
“I have no idea who you are, cretin.”
“”Oof, ok, harsh. No love for Nightwing, huh? I know I was Batman for a good chunk of your formative years, but I wore this costume after stepping out of the cowl, while you were Robin? Ringing any bells?”
“What are you talking about? Robin first took to the streets mere months ago, and I certainly never stooped to it.”
“Oh, well, something’s wonky, then.” Dick rolls to his feet, slipping out of the reach for the sword Dami-Batman has drawn. “Robin was Batman’s first partner, where I’m from.”
Dami-Bats looks as questioning as DIck’s ever seen Damian get. Also, Dick would recognize the ‘I’m so tired of Gotham’s shit’ look regardless of the Batsuit’s occupant.
And yeah, DIck is kinda tired of Gotham’s shit too.
“Do you guys still have a Zatara on speed dial?”
“Zachary, yes.”
“So weird.”