Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Bruce has rules about his kids meeting other heroes. Namely, that they shouldn’t, or should only do it when he’s around to supervise. Jason has snarked that its because he’s ashamed of them, but Dick is sure that its just because he worries.

Tim has never entered the discussion before, because he’s never had any interest in meeting other heroes. He has enough work to do in Gotham, quite frankly, without worrying about what’s happening in other parts of the world.

Or he hadn’t until about seven days ago, when he got wind that the big players behind the human smuggling ring he was tracking were going to be meeting soon in Central City. Flash territory. And normally he was fine with bringing it to Bruce so he could alert his fellow justice league member about the meet up.

Except.

Tim-Seven-Days-Ago (Shorter name pending) had decided that instead of talking to Bruce before he left for some hush-hush league mission with Superman, he should get into a fight with Killer Croc and be knocked unconscious. By the time he was awake again, he had forgotten all about it. He didn’t remember again until the next morning, long after Bruce had left for his no-contact mission.

There were ways for them to contact the Justice League without Bruce being there of course, it would be irresponsible not to. But those were for emergencies, and one little human trafficking circle wasn’t exactly a emergency, was it?

So Tim-Seven-Days-Ago (maybe -Six-Days-Ago? He had lost track of when the sun came up exactly) decided that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself.

The first stage, of course, was establishing an alibi.

“What are you doing with that paint?” Duke, sweet sane Duke, asked naively when he spotted him with his shopping bag filled with various paint products.

“Oh, hi Duke, didn’t see you there!” Tim said cheerily, plastering on his Wane Industry press conference smile.

Duke stared at him for a moment, and Tim refused to let his smile slip. “Right,” Duke finally decided. “I’m just going to go elsewhere.”

The other boy turned around, and resolutely walked away without looking back.

Tim grinned to himself. Step one complete.

“Steph, how much do you love me?”

“Not nearly enough for whatever you need at 6:30 in the morning, birdbrain. I just got home from patrol two hours ago, you asshole.”

Oh,” Tim blinked, surprised. He hadn’t realized it had been that long since patrol had ended. He could have sworn he had sat down to work at his computer only moments ago. “Sorry, I lost track of time. I’ll call back later.”

He heard annoyed grumbling on the other side, and the sound of movement. “No don’t bother, I’m awake now. What do you need, boy blunder?”

“Actually, nothing right now. But if you could do me a favor and keep Jason away from the dock safehouse this weekend, that would be great.”

There was a moment of silence. “Do I want to know why you need me to keep Jason away from that dump? Does this have anything to do with the weird looks Duke has been giving you?”

“I have no idea what looks your referring to, Duke hasn’t been looking at me weird at all.”

“…Riiight. Whatever, plausible deniability and all that. Just Jason?”

“Actually if you could keep everyone away, that would be swell.”

“Okay, but you owe me Timothy Wayne. And I intend to collect.”

Step two complete.

The next step was probably the easiest.

“You want what?” Dick asked, looking away from the sandwich he had been devouring. Alfred had gone to pick Damian up from school, and the others were making their way home as fast as possible to get to the delicious mid-afternoon snacks Alfred had left for each of them in the fridge. Soon enough Jason would be rushing through the door to get to his before anyone else could steal it. And then the hoard would descend.

To say snack time was a blood bath was only exaggerating some of the time.

“The keys to the penthouse. I need some peace and quiet, and maybe some time to actually work on some things, and I can’t really get that here. I’ll check in every day, I just want to get out of the manor for a while.”

Dick thought about it for a moment, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing. “Okay,” he said slowly, “but if somethings wrong, you know you can tell me. Or Alfred. Or Babs. Or Jason. Or…”

Tim cut him off, rolling his eyes. “Nothing’s wrong. Well,” he quickly added on, because he wasn’t the only one who knew that statement was cause for concern in this family, “Cass stole my favorite hoodie again and won’t tell me where it is, Damian keeps accusing me of “stealing” Alfred since he likes the sun spot in my room now, Harper and Steph keep trying to get me to do their math homework for them, and Cullen and Duke got in a fight yesterday about Superman of all things and want me to settle it. It’s just… a lot going on right now.”

Dick watched him carefully for a few more moments, than nodded and tossed him a key ring. “Alright. But be sure to check in every single day, or I’m going to be over there to cuddle you.”

Tim grinned. “Thanks, Dick. I promise.”

Dick took another bite of his sandwich, than seemed to have another thought. “Although are you sure this doesn’t have anything to do with why Duke…”
And like Tim had planned it himself, Jason skidded to a stop in the hallway in front of the kitchen, his eyes wild. Than a war cry from Steph came from the front door, and the hoard descended. Tim stayed only long enough to watch Damian claim Dick for the afternoon, claiming to want a sparring partner.

Step three, easy as pie.

He was just slipping out of the kitchen hallway, about to turn towards Bruce’s study to get some work done on the Bat computer, when he turned to suddenly find Cass standing behind him. He jumped back with a small screech, flailing like an eight year old who had seen a ghost and not at all like someone with extensive physical training should. It was a little embarrassing.

Cass frowned at him in disapproval. “Little brother,” she greeted, stepping closer. “You need to sleep.”

Tim shook his head quickly, glancing around desperately hoping for some kind of distraction. “No, I’m all good, Cass, I can sleep later…”

Cass raised one eyebrow, doing a remarkable impression of Bruce. “Little brother sleep now.” She ordered him.

And though Tim fought valiantly, he found himself spending the next few hours dozing on his bed. He even felt a little better when he woke up, though he didn’t tell her so. She probably already knew. His sister was sneaky like that.

Tim spent a few days hanging out at the penthouse in peace and quiet, and slipped the key back to Dick just before family game night with a small thanks. Dick was quickly distracted by keeping Damian from flipping the table when he lost at monopoly. He never got the chance to ask Tim what he was working on so much that the manic look hadn’t faded from his eyes in a week.

Dick never mentioned that the key that was returned wasn’t the one he had given his brother.

Tim wasn’t there to see the results of his beautiful plan came to fruition, but well…

that was what security camera’s are for.

It was a calm, peaceful morning at Wayne manor. The only sound that could be heard was birds chirping outside, all the little vigilantes snuggled up safely in their beds.

And than the sound of the clock door banging open and a outraged screech broke the morning’s silence.

Dick skid into the study in record time, dressed in pajama pants and one of Bruce’s sweatshirts with mismatched socks and one shoe on, hopping on one foot to put on the other. “What’s happening, what’s wrong?” he demanded of Jason, who he found dressed as a civilian but carrying even more guns than he usually did with that kind of outfit, a wild look in his eyes.

“Where is he?” Jason asked, in a deadly calm voice.

Dick was just about to start on another round of questioning when Jason slammed him into a wall, a knife in his hand. “I’m only going to ask one more time, Dickiebird. Where is the little birdie hiding?”

Dick frowned, not even bothering to lean away from the knife. “What? Jason, what’s got you so riled up at…” Dick looked over at the grandfather clock that had swung shut behind Jason, “7:30 in the morning? Didn’t you just get back into town like an hour ago?”

Jason didn’t answer him though. The two stared at each other for a few minutes. Than Jason snorted, releasing Dick and turning away from him. “You don’t know anything, do you? Fine, I’ll ask Damian, he’ll know where he is.”

Dick had a sudden premonition that bad things would happen if he let Jason walk out the door. “Wait, Jason. What’s going on? Who are you looking for?”
Jason’s chuckle made the supervillain warning lights flash in Dick’s brain. “A soon to be dead little red birdie. Who should have known better than to break into my safe houses and paint everything, including my helmets Nightwing Blue.”

For a few moments there was silence, and then Dick bent over, roaring with laughter. Jason was kind enough to allow the hand holding the knife to be pushed away, rolling his eyes and grimacing as Dick curled in on himself with hysterical laughter.

Jason waited what he considered a very generous two minutes before demanding, “Are you done yet, Dickwad? Or do I have to get the anti-Joker gas?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Dick said, finally getting himself under control. “So, you think Tim did it?”

“Well, first I thought it was you,” Jason told him, and the snarl was obvious in his voice, “But you can’t help but brag about your pranks in the group chat. Same with Dami. The others wouldn’t get the color right. But Timmy’s obsessive enough to peg all of our color schemes and devious enough to try to pin it on you. Now I have to find the little brat.” And with that Jason turned on his heel, marching determinedly towards the bedrooms.

“Demon Brat! I need your help to kill Timmy!” Dick heard Jason yelling, and thought for a minute about going to stop his most murderous siblings from plotting. Than the mental image of all of Jason’s things being painted in his colors came to mind, and he fell into another laughing fit.

This explained why Tim had slipped him fake keys to the penthouse. But he wasn’t going to tell anyone where Tim was hiding. As long as the trackers showed him safe in the penthouse, he was willing to let his little brother hide in comfort.

As long as he knew that his brother was safe, he was willing to watch this play out from a distance.

Tim, sitting smugly on the Penthouse couch, closed his laptop and took a sip of his coffee, looking out at the gotham skyline in the morning light. Now that stage 1 was complete, he could get started on stage 2: sneaking into Central City to catch the human traffickers, catching them and giving the evidence to the police, then sneaking back before anyone realized he had left.

Opening his laptop again, he set to work hacking his tracker. He needed to be done in the next hour.

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

Robin settled into his chosen hiding place, keeping his breathing steady and silent as he had been taught since his first memories. The guard he was trying to get around was well trained, perhaps one of the most dangerous foes he had ever faced, but he was determined to succeed. 

He was fortunate to have some advantages on his side. Though the guard was forewarned, they were expecting someone far less capable of quiet infiltration than him. And one guard, no matter how skilled, could only protect so many entrances. 

Robin tensed as the guard turned the corner nearby, then relaxed as they passed without a glance at his hiding place.

Damian smirked. Todd had questioned him before he had set off from the safehouse, disbelieving his ability to reach the target.

"You sure you don't want help, demon brat?" The elder vigilante had asked, one eyebrow raised until it was covered by a domino mask. "If you're caught, the target will know we're on to him."

“Tt, cease your whining, Todd. I am perfectly capable of getting through one guard.” Damian double checked his grapple guns and the supplies in his belt automatically as he spoke. 

"Just remember the target is probably hiding somewhere inside, you’ll need to look for him carefully. He's extremely crafty. Do not let him escape.” Todd had instructed him despite Damian's scoff.

" You are spending far too much time with those imbeciles that you call teammates if you think I would ever fail a mission in such a way." Damian sniffed. 

Todd had rolled his eyes before fastening his helmet on his head. "Whatever, demon brat. Call in on the comms when you have the target in sight." With that Red Hood had kicked his motorcycle to life and raced out of the safehouse's hidden tunnel. Damian had chosen the much more quiet route of using his grapple gun to move across the city. 

Now it was just a matter of waiting for the perfect time to strike. 

The guard came past again and Robin counted in his head fifteen seconds before moving. He made his way silently across the street, sticking carefully to the shadows as he made his way up the wall and to the unassuming apartment window.

It took him two minutes to disable the protections and alarms hidden in the windowsill, but he was finally able to slip into the barren living room before the guard came around again. 

Instinct had him dropping to his knees as a escrima stick swung through the space where his head had been. He couldn't help a single word slipping through his teeth as he spun to face his attacker. He had been sure he had escaped the notice of the guard!

A bright laugh met him first. "That's another dollar in the swear jar!" Bluebird told him smugly. "Alfred doesn't care if it's in Arabic!"

Damian bared his teeth. "What on earth are you doing here, Row?" All of the intel had told him that Spoiler was the only guard!

Row shrugged, but did not budge from her fighting stance. "Steph called in a favor. I'm supposed to keep you out of here for the rest of the night."

Damian removed the sword strapped to his back. "You can certainly try."

The two vigilantes duked it out in the middle of the apartment's living room. Damian had the advantage of more experience and a smaller size, but Row had been training with Grayson recently. He had been working with her to use her slighter frame and greater flexibility to her advantage, as well as how to use the escrima sticks effectively. The cramped dimensions of the room handicapped both of them. 

And then a new factor joined the fight. A laugh was the only warning Damian had before a blur of purple vaulted through the window and into his path. Only a quick turn of the wrist saved Brown from a nasty cut to the arm.

"Damn, I didn't even see you hit the street, Baby Bat," Brown sounded admiring and Damian fought the urge to preen. "How about we all head out of here and you can show me how to do that over ice cream?"

So bribery was their fallback plan. Damian could admit that he was tempted, a chance to show off and ice cream, but he was stronger than that. He knew far too much about interrogation techniques to fall for such a thing.

"I am loyal to my cause, you cannot sway me."

Brown sighed, but, Row sounded fond as she said, "told you it wasn't going to work. Jason offered up Tim on a silver platter. By the way, you also owe a dollar to the swear jar."

Brown shot her partner a glare. "It was worth a shot," she said halfheartedly. Than she turned on Damian, fists coming up, "have it your way, Bird Brian."

The fight began again in earnest, and Damian had to admit that he was outclassed. The only advantage he had now was his smaller size and the fact that the two of them were getting in each other's way in the cramped space.

Still, it didn't take long before Brown had grabbed his cape and was dragging him back towards the window. "Now go tell Hood that…" Brown started, but Damian didn't wait around to hear what she wanted him to tell Hood. He twisted just enough to get his sword behind his back and cut through the thin fabric of the cape like butter.

Damian took advantage of the distraction to throw himself into the hallway and towards the safehouse's main bedroom. Curses followed after him, "did you seriously grab a cheap Halloween costume instead of your cape? What the fuck…!" 

Damian smirked. Todd had suggested the outfit change after a sparring session where he had once again used the handhold to his advantage. He had no interest in making a permanent change, as he had to admit the bullet proof material of his normal cape was a comforting weight. But it was worth it temporarily to surprise his fellow vigilantes.

He had only seconds, but that was all he would need. The dock safehouse had one advantage over the other Gotham safehouses, and that was a panic room hidden under a trapdoor in the master bedroom's closet. Obviously that was where Drake would be hiding himself. 

Brown and Row were only a few steps behind him, but it didn't matter. He reached the closet and the trapdoor opened easily for him.

Before any of them could react, a stream of orange paint shot out of the trapdoor and directly into all three of their faces.

"Well, that happened," Harper said a few minutes later after they had managed to drag themselves away from the paint that was still streaming out of the open hatch. Harper was impressed that Tim had managed to get this much paint into Gotham without any of them noticing.

Steph was still muttering death threats under her breath as she pushed her mask down under her chin. "...wasn't even here. I wasted a favor for this, that little shit…" Harper decided not to mention the swear jar again for her own safety. She also decided not to mention the streak of orange that Steph left in her hair as she ran a distracted hand through it. It wasn't like she was any better, her mask didn't cover her hair, after all. This paint better not be hard to wash off. 

Instead she decided to ask a question: "what are we going to do now?"

Harper looked at Steph. Steph looked at Damian. Damian didn’t look at anyone, because he was busy wiping the paint off his mask so he could see through the lenses. He glared down at his orange colored gloves with a murderous expression.

Stephanie looked back over at Harper.

“Change sides?”

“Oh, definitely.”

Red Hood parked his bike a few blocks away from the safehouse, then took out his grapple gun and took to the roofs. Mid-afternoon wasn't the best time for him to be out and about, but he managed to keep out of sight by sticking to quieter streets away from Signal's patrol route.

Jason settled down on the rooftop of a random office building. The only things of note about the building was it’s lack of roof access, and a camera in a corner that recorded everything. Jason waved at the camera politely, then settled down with his legs crossed to wait.

Twenty seconds later, his phone rang. He answered it, and before he could speak the voice on the other end said: “Do you have the goods?”

Jason bit back a smart remark and simply replied. “Yes, do you have the intel?”

“Show me the goods first,” came back the reply. If Jason didn’t need the information he would walk away now, but he did. So he had to play nice. Bleg.

Whatever, the information would be worth it. He pulled out a sealed bag from one of the pockets inside his jacket. He offered it in the direction of the camera, and there was a moment where he imagined the contents were examined.

“That will do," the voice finally responded smugly. "How can Oracle help you today, Hood?" 

"I know Replacement isn't at the docks safehouse," Jason started, only to be interrupted.

"But you still sent Robin there to keep Spoiler busy? That's cold, Hood." Oracle didn't sound very chiding despite her words. If anything she sounded gleeful. She took far too much enjoyment out of being a silent instigator in their family. 

Jason shrugged. "Someone has to set off whatever trap Baby Bird set up," he also didn't sound too concerned about it. "But anyway, I know he's not there. There's only one way to figure out where he squirreled himself away." Well, not really. But Jason had no interest in breaking into every single safehouse in Gotham until he got lucky.

"Well, you are in luck," Oracle told him, and he heard the sound of a few keystrokes before she made a triumphant sound. "I know exactly where he is. He's not even too far. Should have him home in time for dinner." The malicious glee in Barbara's voice was palpable.

Jason grinned. "Barbie, have I ever told you that you're absolutely terrifying?"

"I can't believe it," Jason said as he swung himself up onto the balcony of the penthouse on Wayne Tower. Though the daylight was quickly fading, Jason made sure to keep out of sight of any onlookers. Wouldn't want Timster to be forewarned, after all. "Sitting here in the lap of luxury this entire time." Of course Timmy had chosen to stay up here, smug in the knowledge that he was hidden in plain sight the entire time. Well, Jason intended to give him a rude awakening.

It had been good luck that he had found a shop that supplied Barbara's favorite sweet last time he had a mission outside of America. It wasn't available in the US, so he had made sure to stock up when he found it. Having Oracle indebted to you was always useful.

There was no way Tim-a-ling could have known about his stash of Oracle-treats, which meant that he had no way of knowing that Jason could find him so fast. Jason couldn't wait to see the look on his face...

 It took Jason at least twenty minutes to break through the protections set up on the door. Oh yeah, this had Timmers' paranoid fingers all over it.

Jason found more signs of a Baby Bird infestation in the living room. His laptop was abandoned on the coffee table, a blanket crumpled up nearby on the couch. An abandoned coffee mug sat next to the computer, but a quick touch confirmed it had long gone cold.

The problem was he was finding plenty of things that told him Timberly had been there in the last day, but no Tim Tam. And no sign of where he might have gone. No Replacement in the bedroom; no one in the bathroom, the gym, the kitchen... Jason activated his comm, a churning feeling in his gut the longer he didn't find anything recent.

"Babs are you sure Tim's here?"

"Positive," came the immediate reply. "The tracker says he's in the living room, just in front of the couch."

The churning in his gut had increased to something that might be called "a bad feeling" by the superstitious. There was no way Tim would have been able to hide while Jason was in the room, and the space before the couch had nothing except the glass coffee table. He made his way back into the living room, and took a closer look at the laptop.

Jason would readily admit coding wasn't his thing. He had enough training to break into practically anything in the world and cover his tracks, but he preferred to leave computer stuff to people that actually knew what they were doing. He knew enough, however, to know that he was looking at the base code for the tracking program on the caves system. And Tim's tracker, right in the middle, showing that it was exactly where the computer was.

Jason swore than activated his comm again. "Oracle, call Nightwing. Tell him we have a big problem."

Barry Allen was not having a good day. It had been a long week, helping cover Superman’s absence in Metropolis with the rest of the Justice League that hadn’t gone on the mission. They didn’t quite have a match for Superman’s skill set between them, but working together they had been able to keep the city mostly peaceful while its protector was absent.

Today should have been his day off, but around noon an alarm had gone off in a Metropolis bank, and Barry had sped to the scene first to catch the band of bank robbers. By the time anyone else had responded to help, the police had arrived and Barry was stuck talking to them for at least two hours.

The one good thing was that they hadn’t also had to protect Gotham. Superman and Wonder Woman both always offered to take over the city anytime the League called Batman away, but he always refused. Batman was insistent that his city did not need metas interfering, and for once Barry had to agree with him. From what he could tell, things in Gotham seemed to keep to themselves when the Bat was away just as they did when he was there. No matter how crazy the stories coming out of the city made it seem. Aquaman swore he was using some magical power to travel in time and be in two places at once, guarding the city and going on missions, but Barry thought that was nonsense. Gotham was just weird, and it was better for all of them if they left that weirdness to the guy who dressed up as a giant bat.

  Anyway, Barry was not pleased in the least when what would have been a quiet few hours to rest before a Justice League meeting to welcome back Superman and Batman was interrupted by an alert going off. A silent alarm had been triggered at a local office complex undergoing repairs since the last major attack.

With a sigh, Barry stood up, and within seconds was dressed in his costume and speeding towards the office complex, ready to knock out some thieves and leave them tied up for the cops.

Only when he got there, he found his job already done. Men were laying on the ground in various states of unconsciousness, their hands bound behind them with zip ties.

There were a LOT of guys laying around. Much more than what might be needed for a simple robbery. Barry was concerned about that, when he heard the sound of fighting from one of the other rooms. The door was ajar, and he quickly made his way over to pear inside.

Four men were standing around the room, armed with guns or knives and looking very eager to use them. Barry blinked in shock at what they were all staring at aggressively.

It was a young man, maybe even a teenager. The kid was dressed in form fitting body armor in red and black. Two yellow bandoleers were crossed over his chest, meeting in a circle that had the outline of a bird's head in red on a black background in it. Hanging from his shoulders was a red cape that looked like feathers. In his hands was a thin staff. He wasn't breathing hard, but splatters of blood on his costume said he had been fighting for quite a while.

One of the men lunged forward, brandishing a knife. The kid jumped, twisting in midair to avoid the strike and bringing his staff down on the man's head. He dropped to the ground with a groan.

The kid looked up with a smirk. "Who's next?"

Two of the goons seemed to decide to team up to try to take the boy down. Both lunged forward, and the boy did a complicated flip, twirling his staff almost lazily. Barry wasn't sure how, but in the end both of the burly men collapsed on the floor with the boy perched on their shoulders. The boy smirked down at the men, but the smirk wiped off his face when he looked at the last guy, something dangerous replacing it.

"Are you going to come quietly, or do you need to join your friends?" The kid asked as he took a few silent steps toward the man.

Barry can see the guys hands shake nervously on the gun. "Yo-you don't under-understand, these guys are big leagues. If my bosses find out I surrendered willingly , then I'll have a bullet in the brain by tomorrow."

Barry can't see the vigilante's expression, but his voice said he was not impressed. "You should have thought of that before working with human traffickers." Barry leaned back a little in surprise, what were human traffickers doing in Central City? "Besides, I've already turned over all the evidence the police need to arrest your bosses. They'll be in their own jail cells by morning. Make your first smart decision in a while and surrender."

The goon seemed to give in, raising his hands above his head. The boy approached, but as he got within lunging distance the goons hands dropped, reaching forward to grab the boy. Barry finally realized that he had been standing there like an idiot and rushed forward. Barry pushed the guy into the nearest wall,making sure to go slow enough to only knock out the man.

Barry turned to look for the kid, only to blink a seeing his staff already up and ready to strike him. There was no way the kid had seen him moving, so the kid had already been moving to neutralize the goon when Barry had intervened.

The kid confirmed his thoughts as he registered Barry's presence. "I had that handled, Flash." 

Barry blinked. "Okay, I guess there's no point in introducing myself. Did you take down all of these men by yourself? Did someone send you after them?" The kid was far too good to be self taught, so he must have had a teacher at some point. But Barry hadn't seen any sign of someone else helping in the fight. Had the teacher told the kid to take down this group by himself, maybe as some sort of test? Barry didn't think much of a mentor who sent a kid out alone to do his dirty work. At least when he worked with Kid Flash, and Impulse, they knew they could count on Barry to be there if they needed help.

"No," the kid muttered, finally retracting his staff. "I decided to go after them on my own."

That was even more concerning. "Superheroing is dangerous, kid," Barry told him with worry churning in his gut. "You shouldn't get into it so young, all by yourself." The thought of a kid Bart's age, taking on criminals without any sort of backup, made Barry sick. Maybe he could convince the kid to come with him and hook him up with a mentor. Anything would be better than a teenager crime fighting on their own.

The kid looked annoyed. "I'm fine," he said, gesturing around at all the goons that were still on the ground, unconscious. "I know what I'm doing. See?"

Kid might have a point, Barry acknowledged in his own head. But he had other things he needed to ask the kid about.

"That can wait for a minute. How did you find human traffickers, and what are they doing in my city?" Barry needed to know if he had missed something so massive happening right in his own city. And how the kid had found out about it.

"They weren't in your city, I followed them from...someplace else." Barry was extremely curious about where that someplace else was, but he didn't think he was going to get any answers about it from the kid, who now looked extremely shifty. "They were meeting here because it's neutral terf, and one of the guy's brothers works security and let them in." 

Well, that did answer some of Barry's questions. "Then they weren't the ones who triggered the silent alarm, you were. Who are you, kid, and how did you get mixed up in taking down traffickers?"

"No one," the kid says, seemingly reflexively, then the rest of what he said seems to register. "How was I supposed to know that the silent alarm was on a different system than the rest of the security?" The boy sounded extremely miffed.

"You still aren't answering my question. How did you learn about the traffickers, and who taught you how to fight?"

The kids mouth turned down into a serious frown, and even through the domino mask Barry could feel the glare. Something about that glare seemed familiar... "None of your business," the teen snapped.

Barry wasn't going to get anything out of this kid, he could just tell. Biting back a sigh, he said, "have it your way" and sped forward, locking his metaproof cuffs around the kids wrists.

"Hey!" The kid protested, tugging on the restraints.

"Stay there," Barry ordered, not that the kid had much choice. "I'll come back after I deal with getting these guys to the police. Then we'll see if you're more willing to talk." Barry then sped away to do just that.

It took Barry barely three minutes to tie up the remaining goons, carry them all to the nearest police station, and leave his customary note explaining where the criminals had been found. He sped back to the kid just in time too.

The cuffs were off. The Justice League issued, meta proof cuffs were lying on the ground. And the kid was on the other side of the room, pulling the window open.

"Oh, no you don't," Barry muttered to himself as he ran forward, grabbing the kid. He ran back and got the cuffs back on the kid, then sped him onto a nearby roof so they could chat. "How did you do that?" He asked the kid.

"Sorry, trade secret," the kid said, seeming to be trying to find a way around Barry. 

Barry raised an eyebrow, knowing that the kid couldn't see it. "Kid, has anyone ever told you that it's useless to try to outrun the Flash?"

The kid shrugged slightly, "worth a shot," and then the area filled with smoke.

The kid was good. If Barry hadn't known his city so well, the kid would have lost him in the smoke cloud and he would have never found him.

Unfortunately for the kid, Barry knew this area well, and it didn't take much to figure out which direction he had run. Barry slapped the cuffs on the kid for a third time (how had he gotten out that fast?) and picked him up. "Alright, that's it," he decided aloud, "it's time to call in the big guns."

Barry didn't wait for a response, just zipped towards the nearest Zeta.

"How?" Hal Jordan asked, frustration leaking into his voice. "Those cuffs didn't exist a minute ago, I created them. How did you pick them so fast?"

The kid shrugged as much as he could. "Maybe you should have imagined better cuffs then." The kid was smirking at them, absolutely pleased with himself.

Barry didn't know what to do. He had brought the protesting kid up to the watchtower, when the kid had slipped out of his cuffs again. If Hal hadn't been nearby the kid would have gotten away, but now they were stumped. No matter what construct Hal created, the kid had found some way of slipping free. He was being held for the moment in a giant green fist, but it was only a matter of time before the kid popped out of that, too.

Before the two heroes could come up with a better plan, the coms in their ears crackled to life. "Away team is back, Batman wants to know what's taking you so long." Black Canary's voice rang out to them.

The two glanced at each other and shrugged. "Go bring him here," Hal told his friend. "Maybe he'll have more luck with this kid."

Barry nodded, and was gone before Hal could blink. "Who are you talking about?" The kid asked from the opposite side of him, and Hal mentally swore when he saw the kid sitting at the table calmly as if he couldn't see the giant twitching hand in the other corner of the room. He hadn't heard the kid do anything.  

"I don't know how you keep doing that," Hal told the kid through clenched teeth. He created a new set of chains to keep the kid in the chair, but he knew it wasn't going to hold for long. "But i know who can find out." Batman would probably be able to give them a dossier on the kids powers, weaknesses, and life history in a few hours. Then they could figure out how to contact their parents and keep them from starting solo heroing before they finished school.

The kids head knocked to the side slightly. The motion, along with the winglike cape, made Hal think that the kid might have bird powers like Hawkwoman and Hawkman."Are you going to answer my question?"

Hal snorted. "Sure, kid. Ever wanted to talk to the fearsome Bat of Gotham?"

Hal had just been trying to scare the kid a little, but he felt bad when he saw the kids reaction.

The kid paled like they had just ordered his execution. “No, please, please don’t do this. I will do anything you want if you don’t call him.”

“Relax, kid. Spooky might seem scary, but he’s mostly harmless.” Hal told the kid, feeling a little bad. He knew Bat’s had a reputation, but he didn’t think it was enough to cause that kind of reaction. Kid must be scared out of his wits.

“No, you don’t understand…” The kid kept pleading, but it was already too late. Batman swept into the room, Flash at his heels, and instantly the kid fell silent.

Batman said nothing, just stared at the kid with the same glare he gave all of them. Hal could practically feel the mounting energy in the kid, even though he didn’t move a muscle. He had to give the kid credit though, he was meeting Batman’s gaze steadily. Most grown adults couldn’t do that consistently.

Finally Batman let out a sound that in anyone else Hal would have said was a heartfelt sigh. “Do you have anything to say for yourself, Red Robin?”

Hal started. Bat’s knew this kid? Was that the reason the kid was so scared?

The kid tried a very small smile. “Hi, Dad. I love you?”

Hal could have been pushed over with a feather at that, and from the expression on Barry’s face he could tell the fastest man alive was feeling the same. Spooky had a kid? Hal didn’t think he would learn anything more surprising in his life. He was so surprised that his ring almost deactivated, the chains on the boy fading away.

“Nice try,” Batman said gruffly. “Where do your brothers think you are?”

Okay. Bat’s had more than one kid. Hal should probably retract his earlier statement.

The kid mumbled something. Bats didn’t respond in any way that Hal could see, but the kid (Red Robin, he should probably call him) winced like he could hear a reprimand. “Right, no mumbling. Uh, I kinda pulled a prank on Hood earlier, and then I pretended I was going to lay low in one of the safehouses. And I kinda told Spoiler not to let anyone near it to check on me, cause Hood was baying for my blood about the prank.”

“I see,” Bat’s said. “And if I was to look at your tracker’s location data for the last few hours, it would show you…?”

The kid winced again. “I, uh… sorta hacked my trackers to show me working at the penthouse? So if anyone got to the safehouse, they would think I just misdirected and am hiding at the penthouse. Please don’t be mad? I was going to ask for your help with the case, but then that thing with Killer Croc happened and I sorta forgot before you left. But I had to get that human smuggling ring before they got more people hurt, and this was the best time to do it, and I didn’t mean to get caught, it was just supposed to be an easy in-and-out, except one of them triggered a silent alarm, and I couldn’t exactly call Oracle for help. And then the Flash showed up, and things kinda escalated. And I didn’t mean to get brought to the watchtower, and I just remembered that I said Dad and now they know, and I’m really sorry…”

“Breathe,” Batman instructed, and suddenly he was across the room, kneeling in front of the boy’s chair. Hal flinched, not having seen the man move, but the boy just looked relieved at the dark figure crouched in front of him. He took a few deep breaths as instructed, holding the breath for a few moments when told to do so, then letting it out. After a few repetitions, the boy seemed much calmer.

“How much caffeine have you had in the last 24 hours?” Batman's voice sounded unlike anything Hal had ever heard, almost… soothing?

“Uh…” the kids brow furrowed. “I’m not actually sure? Maybe 12 cups of coffee and a couple of energy drinks?”

Hal thought that was a pretty concerning statement for a kid that looked like he weighed nothing.

“Okay,” Batman continued. “How long has it been since you last slept?”

“I have no idea.” The kid responded, his head tilting to the side slightly as if in thought.

Okay, that was a much more concerning statement.

“Oh, I remember,” Red Robin said, his head perking up. “Black Bat made me sleep Tuesday afternoon before dinner for three hours!”

That. That right there was officially the most concerning statement that Hal had ever heard a kid make.

“Red Robin, that was four days ago. Today is Saturday.”

The kid seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Well I must have slept at some point since then, since I haven’t hit the hallucination stage yet.”

This kid really needed to stop talking, or Hal was going to figure out how to keep him restrained and force him to sleep. From the expression on Batman’s face, that was a common urge.

B was going to kill him. Dick had always thought his death would be nobler than this, maybe during a fight or even saving the planet. Once in a while he even imagined going in his sleep from old age after a long life. Now he was never going to get that chance, because his father was going to commit his first ever homicide, and it was going to be him.

“What do you mean, you can’t find him?!” he didn’t care that he sounded hysterical as he screeched the question over the comms at Oracle.

“I mean his trackers aren’t showing him anywhere on earth anymore,” Babs snapped in response, and in any other circumstances he would immediately apologize because nothing was worse than having Oracle mad at you. Nothing even remotely electronic would work for you for weeks . When she was feeling especially petty, she hacked the city’s traffic system and made it so you would always hit red lights. It was a nightmare.

But, well. Soon to be dead by father-figure, so it didn’t especially matter, did it?

Tim could be anywhere, been taken by anyone. What if a villain had taken his little brother? What if he had been kidnapped? What if aliens had come, and as their first move against Earth they had taken Timmy captive to learn all of earth’s secrets?

It said things about his life, that the last option wasn’t that far fetched, and was in fact more terrifying than some of the other possibilities.

“That little brat better hope I’m not the one who finds him,” Hood grumbled over the line. He was taking Tim slipping out unnoticed under his radar personally, since he had been the one actively searching for Red Robin. The others pointing out that he had been able to escape all of them and get around Bruce and Oracle’s extensive tracking programs had not helped in the slightest. “The little shit is going to spend the next week locked in his room if I have anything to say about it. No work, no Bat Cave, no coffee. Teach him not to get us so worried.”

“Tt,” Robin responded, and Dick looked over to see his youngest brother a few rooftops over, looking down his own set of streets and alleyways for signs of trouble. “Red Robin should know better than to allow himself to be captured. If he has brought shame upon the name of the Bat I will be forced to exact revenge through blood.” Which was Damian speak for ‘I am extremely worried and don’t know how to show normal affection except through bloodshed.’ Dick loved the kid, but really, he was giving Bruce a run for his money in terms of emotional constipation.

The entire family was spread out around Gotham, desperately searching for any sign of their lost bird. Dick was praying to every good thing in the universe that someone found a sign soon, because as the minutes ticked by a sinking sensation was filling his stomach. He didn’t want to fail another little brother.

Barbara’s voice once more crackled over the line. “Crap, I’ve got a Justice League call, I have to take this. Nobody do anything stupid for the next few minutes.”

If it was a better day, Dick would have been teasing her about thinking they could hold off on stupidity for seconds, let alone a full minute. But it wasn’t, so he continued to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, not thinking about his baby brother lying dead in a ditch somewhere.

When Oracle came back on the line, there was something strange in her voice. “It’s B,” she said, “He wants to speak to Nightwing. Now.”

Crap. Double crap. Dick let the string of swears continue in his mind as he told Barbara to connect the call. He swallowed. He was really hoping that he wasn’t about to tell his father that his son was possibly dead.

The screen of his wrist computer flickered on to an image of the Watchtower comms room. His father’s cowled face was front and center, the slight pursing of his lips the only betrayal of his emotions. “Nightwing,” Bruce’s voice said evenly.

“Hi, B,” Dick responded, mind whirling as he contemplated how best to break the news. He wasn’t sure what combination of code words he could use without tipping off the Justice League that something was wrong in Gotham. Being a group of superheroes that considered the entire planet under their protection, they were a group of incredible busybodies.

Then he spotted the figures standing behind his father. Specifically, the short one standing between two other heroes.

“Baby Bird!” Dick shouted, “Oh, thank god!” Tim raised a hand in greeting, then rubbed it against the back of his neck self-consciously. “Do not ever scare me like that again.” His brother looked fine, just a little red from his blush at the nickname.

“Nightwing,” Bruce drew his attention back like a magnet, and Dick gulped. His Dad was going to be so mad at him. “Your brother has explained to me how he was able to bypass the security on his tracker, and keep you from discovering his plan to do a solo mission in Central City. He will be helping patch that bug after he has slept, but I think it is important that he apologizes to you now for worrying you. Red Robin?” Despite the phrasing, that was not a request.

Tim took a few steps forward. “Hey, N,” he smiled slightly, obviously embarrassed. “Sorry for worrying you. And sneaking out of town. And not telling anyone where I was going. And-.”

“That’s enough,” Bruce growled kindly. “Go to my room and stay on the bed until I come for you.” Tim didn’t respond, just nodded tiredly and turned, passing through the group of heroes that parted before him.

It was only then that Dick realized the entire Justice League was standing in the room, watching the exchange with wide eyes.

Dick turned back to his Dad’s flat stare. “I am in huge trouble, aren’t I?” Tim had obviously revealed that he was Dick’s brother. Had he also revealed Bruce’s relationship with them? How much damage control did he need to do?

Bruce did one of his non-verbal sighs, the ones only the family were able to see. “Not as much as you think. If Red Robin wasn’t uniquely talented at finding trouble he wouldn’t be my son.” Okay, so apparently the League knew that Tim and Dick were Bruce’s sons. That was fine, they had plans in place for that to cover possible identity issues. “How are the rest of your siblings?”

Okay, multiple siblings were compromised. It was fine. Dick could handle it. “We’re all good, B. Everything down here is good.” He glanced over to see Bluebird waving to him from another rooftop. Her smile told him that Oracle had spread the good news on to the rest. He waved a hand in response even as he finished his report. “Gotham is fine. When are you and Red Robin coming home?”

“I’ll let him rest here while I finish up the mission reports and some other problems, then both of us will take the Zeta to the cave. We should be home by mid-afternoon tomorrow at the latest.”

“Awesome, I’ll let the others know. Remember you need to sleep too, B. We all know where Baby Bird got it from.”

"Hump," Bruce grunted at him, then the connection cut off. The minute the screen went dark Dick collapsed back, letting out the tension that had been in his muscles for hours. He sighed.

Once Tim was back on earth, he wasn't going to leave Dick's sight for a month.

Chapter Text

“So…” Green Lantern started leadingly.

It was the next morning, and every single hero that could was hanging out near the League’s shared kitchen, pretending not to be listening in.

Batman continued to ignore him.

“So, you have kids?” Green Arrow said, a little more pointedly.

“Yes.” Batman said, and continued finishing the breakfast he had prepared for himself before anyone else was up. Next to him was a container filled with similar food, sealed to keep the heat in.

Fortunately for all of them, Wonder Woman decided that this was the best time to start her own interrogation. “I was not aware that Nightwing was related to you. We have fought together on occasion, and his spirit has always been a great asset in battle. You have raised a fine warrior." 

Batman turned to her, seeming pleased. "Thank you," he responded.

That was when Wonder Woman sprung her trap. "It would be a joy to train alongside such warriors as the ones you have raised. Is there a time when i might do so?"

Batman pursed his lips, obviously caught out. There was a momentary silence as everyone waited for him to respond.

Finally Batman sighed. "Are you available next Saturday?"

Wonder Woman was polite enough to keep the smug victory off her face, if not her voice. "Yes. I look forward to it."

"You're going to let your sons train with Wonder Woman?" Green Arrow questioned, "no offense, but aren't they in another weight class, so to speak?" 

Batman turned to him, seeming even more smug now. "I don't think so, but i believe Diana will find my daughters quite the challenge."

The room was abuzz with whispers, until that point Batman had only mentioned sons, not daughters. Diana lit up, "I always welcome a chance to train with shield sisters."

A voice came from behind the gathered crowd. "BB and Sig could probably take her on." The group turned as one to see Red Robin standing in the doorway. He was fully dressed in his costume including his domino and cape. The only sign that he had probably just woken up was his slightly slumped posture.

"Perhaps," Batman mused. "How did you sleep?" He asked his son who responded by making a face, clearly not a fan of mornings.

"Coffee?" The boy asked, and Batman inclined his head towards where they kept the coffee maker and mugs. The boy practically flew to the machine, and in moments was whispering praise to the slowly filling cup.

The group turned to Batman but he didn't seem surprised at all by his son's actions. "Who are those two?" The Flash asked, practically vibrating.

Red Robin responded without turning away from the coffee. "My older sister Black Bat, Gotham's shadow, and my younger brother The Signal, Gotham's daylight protector. The two of them are unbeatable."

"How have we never heard of any of you?" Hal questioned.

Red Robin shrugged. "We don't advertise, mostly. Except Sig, most of us work better in the shadows. And we mostly keep to Gotham, except Nightwing, really." The coffee machine beeped, and Red Robin's hand darted out to grab it. "Ah, precious, precious life blood."

“You should probably savor that,” Batman said as he watched his son grab the now filled coffee mug.

Red Robin froze. “Why’s that?” he asked, tone nonchalant but his body tense.

“Because that is the last cup you will be having for a while.”

Red Robin looked like someone had just told him his dog had been run over. “No, B, no! You can’t take my precious life blood!” he hugged the cup close to his chest, seeming not to notice the heat of the cup, but still not spilling a drop.

Batman’s expression didn’t change in any way the watchers could tell. “I can and I have. As we speak Agent A is replacing all caffeine products in the house with decaffeinated alternatives.”

“I’ll just get coffee at Starbucks or something, then, you can’t stop me!” They could all tell the kid was glaring at Batman now.

Batman nodded. “True, I can’t stop you. But I think you’ll find that your siblings are very eager to help you maintain more healthy habits. Like enforced meal and bed times, restricted work hours, and caffeine restrictions.” Even the League could tell that Batman was smug.

Red Robin muttered something under his breath that sounded distinctly like “traitors” then slumped into the seat next to Batman, head dramatically hitting the table. Batman just pulled the lid off the container next to him and set it down in front of his kid, returning to his own meal.

Red Robin looked over at the meal then snapped upright so suddenly that several people jumped. "Did you cook?! " The teenager sounded oddly… panicked?

"No," the cowled vigilante said. Barry's jaw dropped as he realized Bats actually sounded annoyed. "Someday all of you will learn to let that go."

Red Robin snorted. "Hood swears up and down that you once set the kitchen on fire making soup . None of us are ever going to let that go."

Bat's grumbled response of "Hood greatly exaggerates" was lost over the sound of several gasps.

"Wait, wait, wait," Hal said, making an arm motion for emphasis. He turned to the teenager, "are you telling me that Spooky, mister perfectionist, can-never-be-wrong, can't cook?"

"Oh he can," the teenager said with a smug grin on his face. Before Green Lantern could deflate too much though he continued, "just not anywhere close to civilization. Put him at a stove and you'll need a fire extinguisher, but Spoiler said his roasted squirrel was pretty good."

"You ate squirrel?" Hal seemed like he was torn between joy at finally finding something Spooky was bad at, and disgust.

Batman sighed. "It was an emergency survival situation." He turned back to give his son an exasperated expression. "What would it take to keep you from ruining my reputation?" Hal blinked at the genuine question. And the fond note that had entered  Batman's voice.

"More coffee," Red Robin immediately replied. "The good stuff, not what you have up here." 

Batman titled his head for a moment, then nodded. "Deal," Bat's replied, "you can have one cup when we get back to the cave."

Red Robin was apparently thrown by the easy acquiescence, then they could see the white lenses of his mask narrow. "You were going to give me more when we got to the cave either way, weren't you?" 

"Perhaps," Batman said again, but before his son could say anything else, he cut in, "the sooner you finish your meal and patch that bug in the tracker program, the sooner we can go home and you can have more coffee."

There was silence for a moment as Red Robin contemplated that, then he picked up his fork. "Fine you win this round." With that he began eating, and no matter who tried no one else could get anything more out of either of them.

The Zeta spit them out into the cave a few hours later, and Tim practically sprinted to where Alfred was waiting with a steaming cup and a long suffering expression. 

"Sweet, precious nectar of the gods," he whispered, taking a deep gulp of the beverage and sighing in relief at the taste of his favorite blend.

He barely registered Alfred quietly greeting Bruce behind him, his focus completely taken by the perfection in his hands. He didn't consciously register the other voices either, and had to blink in surprise when he looked up to find himself surrounded. His siblings had gathered in a loose circle around him, and now that he was paying attention his instincts were warning of danger.

Before he could even think about escaping, an arm wrapped around his ribs, solid as a steel vice. "Nice of you to join us again, Timbo," The Red Hood's voice was slippery as glass and hard as steel. Tim's attempts to wiggle out of his hold proved futile.

He cast a pleading look at the others. Steph gave an exaggerated sniff. "Don't look at me, you're still on my shit list."

Tim pouted. "Oh, come on. I made sure the paint would be easy to wash out!"

If anything that made Stephanie's glower even darker. "So you knew I would get hit by the paint too, you jerk. I can't believe I wasted that favor Harper owed me to help you out. See if I'm ever willing to do you a favor again." They both knew that it was an empty threat. Steph was excellent at revenge schemes, but couldn't hold a grudge to save her life. Tim expected some embarrassing pictures of himself being spread over the internet for a few days, then Steph would forgive him. 

Duke also shook his head at him. "No way, dude. You used me to set up your alibi for what you were working on. None of the paint i saw you carrying was orange or blue." Tim cursed in his mind. He had been hoping that it would take Duke longer to realize he had been used to spread family rumors.

Dick raised an eyebrow at that, temporarily distracted. "Really? You have more paint?"

"No," Tim sighed, finally giving in to Jason's hold. "I didn't use any of the paint Duke saw me carrying. I took the unused paint from Damian's art room, and carried them around until Duke saw.  I ordered the rest in industrial quantities through a shell company. What I didn't use has already been donated to that youth center undergoing renovations."

An outraged squawk met his ears. "Todd, I demand you release Drake this instant. He must pay for stealing my property!" Damian strode towards them only to be pulled back into Dick. He struggled slightly, but Dick just wrapped his arms around his youngest brother in a tight hug. They all pretended not to notice how the youngest relaxed into the hug.

Tim snorted. "Relax, gremlin. I put them all back after, and all in the same place. I wouldn't take your art supplies without asking, I just… borrowed them for a minute." Damian grumbled, but he seemed more interested in whatever Dick was whispering in his ear then continuing to pursue vengeance. Tim expected that he would be dodging pranks that weren't technically designed to kill him for the next week. Damian was still working on learning proportional response. Dick would probably get involved, and the demon would probably calm down after a few days of one-on-one with their eldest brother. 

The demon brat had been pouting for weeks. This was likely to help with his feeling neglected. Hopefully before he actually injured Tim, but not every plan could be without risk. 

"Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne," the voice cracked like a whip over the group, and Tim stiffened again as Barbara wheeled herself into the circle directly in front of him. "Do you want to explain to me what the fuck," "language" echoed from three places in the cave but she ignored it, "you were thinking sneaking out like that? No backup, no one had any idea where you were, no way to contact me for help?"

"Um," Tim said, because looking at it now, after being forced to sleep for a full eight hours, it did seem pretty stupid. "I, uh… wasn't?"

Barbara sighed and dropped her head in her hands like being in the presence of that much stupidity was physically painful. Tim shifted uneasily, forgetting for a moment that he was still being held against Jason's chest.

"Tim? Look at me," Barbara told him a much gentler voice. He looked over to see her giving him a very intense look. "We were worried because we care about you, Tim. We didn't know where you were, or if you had gotten into trouble. You didn't have any way of calling for help when you ran into trouble. Next time you want to leave town, just tell me, okay? Or at least leave a note."

Tears pricked the corners of Tim's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. "Yeah," he shook his head quickly. "I promise. I won't make that mistake again. Getting kidnapped by the Flash wasn't my finest hour."

"I'll say," Harper snorted. "Only you could get alien abducted to space by one of the few Justice Leaguers that isn't an alien."

A hand cupped Tim's cheek, and he looked up to find that Cass had appeared in front of him. She didn't say anything, but Tim could still feel guilt crawling up and down his spine. "Sorry, Cass," he whispered, and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. When she pulled back there was a small smile on her face, and Tim relaxed again in relief.

"Alright, I think it's time we moved this upstairs," Dick said brightly. "We need to get some food into Tim soon, or he's going to be even more off schedule." 

Tim froze, head whipping around to stare at his eldest brother. "What schedule?" Nobody answered him, but the evil little smirks they shared gave him his answer anyway. He groaned. "I thought he was joking!"

"Nope! We all agreed you need someone to keep an eye on you after this last incident, and we your beloved siblings have volunteered." Jason told him as the older boy practically dragged him after the rest of the group toward the stairs. Jason's voice was very perky as he explained, "You missed your scheduled lunch time by two hours, but we saved you a sandwich. This will throw off your schedule, so we'll have to take an hour of computer time to compensate."

"But-" Tim gasped, attempting to wiggle away from the arms dragging him along to no avail. Jason didn't even slow down as he expertly dogged Tim's attempts to reach a pressure point. "I have cases, and WE work, and things I have to get done. Jason-!"

"Nope," Jason responded, "you haven't been taking care of yourself, Baby Bird. So it looks like we have to step in and do it for you. It's payback for worrying us so much. But don't worry," Jason leaned forward, and suddenly his voice dropped into the dangerous octave he normally used only on the worst criminals. "I won't use this time as payback for that prank you did. I'll make you pay for that some time in the future, when you least expect it."

They started walking again, and Tim's mind whirled into overdrive. He hadn't foreseen his plan creating an alliance between so many of his siblings against him. The only time they had had this many in agreement was now only referred to as "the incident" and Bruce had forbidden any discussion of it. 

If Tim wanted any chance at actually getting things done while his family tried to force him into self-care, he was going to have to break up the alliance.

Steph might be easy to break off, she didn't hold grudges or alliances for long, preferring to be a wild card. But Tim was the one that owed her a favor at the moment, he couldn't ask for another right now until she gave some indication of what she wanted.

Harper was going to hold a grudge, and it was going to be vicious. She was a seasoned pro at holding personal slights against a sibling forever. The best option for him there was to redirect her ire onto someone else. Maybe frame one of the others for something, and watch the alliance dissolve.

Dick and Damian were going to be a solid duo by the end of the week based on his earlier shenanigans, but while Dick would be in favor of continuing to police Tim's more self destructive habits, Damian could also be distracted by any perceived betrayal. If sides formed inside the alliance Damian would not tolerate Dick "consorting with the enemy" and would drive a firm wedge in the group. That would easily split the duo off, and then Dick wouldn't have the manpower to continue with the schedule.

Barbara was a mercenary. She might be willing to work for him if he was able to find a sufficient bribe, but the problem would be making sure the others didn't find out and bribe her into betraying him. Duke didn't want excessive conflict, and would peel away from the group the minute things started to get out of hand. 

The real problem was going to be Jason and Cass. Tim would never be able to fool or trick Cass into giving up, he would have to persuade her that he was able to take care of himself. Which meant he would actually have to make an effort at taking better care of himself.

A voice in his head reminded him that if he was any good at that, he probably wouldn't be in this situation. Still, it was doable.

Jason, though, would be like a dog with a bone. It was a matter of personal pride now, and Tim had no hope of getting him to concentrate on something else. Jason would be expecting Tim to be trying to escape his punishment for sneaking out. The only hope Tim had was to either get one of the others to do something worse to Jason, or force Bruce to step in to calm the chaos. The instant Bruce got involved in the argument Jason would be compelled to take the other side, no matter what side that was.

There was no help for it, Tim was going to need a co-conspirator. Someone who wasn't part of the alliance, but who the others would ignore as a threat until too late. 

Bruce and Alfred would immediately get noticed as threats even if Tim could bring them to his side (Bruce he could probably convince after he remembered how terrible running WE without Tim was). Aunt Kate was too far flung most of the time. A sudden interest at the house would cause suspicion. Most of Tim's other options had the same problem.

There was only one person Tim could turn to now.

 "No."

"Please, Cullen?" Tim watched as his younger brother flipped another page of his textbook, determinedly ignoring Tim perched on his bed. The fact that he was holding it upside down didn't fill Tim with confidence that much information was being processed, but he didn't say anything. Cullen would be more likely to listen to him if he didn't point out that he was doing so. Besides, maybe Cullen had decided to learn how to read upside down. It wasn't like that would be the strangest thing someone in this household had decided they needed to learn, after all. 

"You want me to turn against all of our siblings, including my own sister and Cass , so you can go back to your self destructive tendencies. Why on earth would I do that?"

Tim kept one eye on the door as he worked out the best way to go about this. Technically , he was scheduled to be outside right now for "mandatory fresh air and sunshine". But somehow Damian had been roped into managing that part of the schedule, and he didn't care enough to force Tim outside. As long as Tim didn't go near the batcave where the others were working or open any work on his devices that would trigger Bab's monitoring software, he should be good. But there was always the chance the others would finish early, and then Tim's plan would be ruined. Not only would he be forced outside against his will, but the others would want to know what he and Cullen were talking about. He needed to make this quick.

"Look, it's not just about me being able to set my own schedule again. We can't allow our siblings to work together for this long, what if they actually start working together willingly. You or I don't stand a chance against them." Cullen frowned to himself slightly and Tim knew he had scored a point. Little brothers like them well knew the dangers of allowing Older Siblings to cooperate. Nothing would be more terrifying than that.

Still, Tim could tell that Cullen wasn't completely sold. It was time to bring out the big guns. "Look, here's the deal." He waited until Cullen had fully looked away from the book. "You do some minor tasks and pranks for me to get the others off my back, and I give you something that will get Damian on your side forever." 

Cullen snorted. "No way," he told Tim. "Damian doesn't side with anyone but Dick, he side's against people."

Grinning, Tim leaned over to grab the bag he had left on the floor when he entered the room. "He will if you give him this," Tim said, holding up the package that he had fished out of the bag for the other to see.

Cullen leaned over to see what he was holding, then whistled to himself, impressed. "Is that the limited edition super rare Cheese Vikings action figure that Damian wanted?" Cullen questioned. "The one that only has ten copies in the world? The one Damian has been trying desperately to get a collector to sell to him?"

"Yep." Tim let the word pop out smugly.

"I'd ask how you got it without Damian knowing, but I'm not sure I want to know," Cullen told him seriously. Tim just shrugged, it hadn't been that hard. Besides the five months of tracking down contact information on the collectors, tracking them down, and intimidating one into selling through a combination of a ludicrous amount of money and a glare that could rival Bruce's at his most 'I am the night' had been worth it.

Cullen was looking at the package with pursed lips. "Are you sure you want to give this to me?" He questioned slowly. "You went to a lot of trouble to get this for Damian. I don't think-"

"No," Tim refuted, shaking his head. "He won't like it as much if it came from me. Besides, this way you have a shot at being Damian's second favorite brother. I don't have a shot at anything like that."

Cullen didn't say anything for a minute, just looked at him for a minute. Tim looked away, outside the window. Attention from other people still made him nervous even after all these years.

"I don't think you're right," Cullen finally said, breaking the silence. "But fine. I'll give this to Damian, and I'll help you prank the others. On one condition." Tim stiffened, he didn't have much else to bargain with. "Help me with my homework?" Cullen finished with a grin, picking up the textbook again.

Tim groaned, but stood up and followed as Cullen wheeled over to his desk. "For the last time, I'm not that good at math. Why do you all keep asking me when Dick is right there…?"

Cullen just laughed at him, "it's not math, dork. It's chemistry. Couldn't you tell when I was reading it earlier?"

Tim perked up at that. Math might not be his thing, but he certainly knew enough to do high school chemistry. "I can do that," he said, then snorted. "And how was I supposed to know with you holding the textbook upside down."

"What?" Cullen asked, spinning around to look at his book sitting on his desk. He groaned. "You couldn't have told me that before?"

"Sure," Tim grinned, reaching forward to flip the book around. "Lesson one, always make sure you're reading the book the right way."

Cullen groaned and shoved Tim's shoulder, but he still leaned forward in interest as Tim started explaining the section Cullen had been stuck on.

Later the others will come up from the cave, riled up from a successful sparring session. Dick will come into the room and annoy them into chasing him outside, and all of them will play a game that might be tag, if it didn't involve so much wrestling each other to the ground. Later Alfred will call them all inside for dinner, tut-ing when he sees the grass stains and muddy skid marks on their clothes, sending them all to their rooms to change. 

The next day Tim and Cullen will meet up in the few moments Tim has unsupervised to work out a plan. 

And some time later Tim will be free of his families over protectiveness, lost in the chaos of an emergency that ended with hidden speakers in the Cave playing bubble pop songs with tiny increments in timing leading to a cacophony of sound, a fake alien invasion so believable that three Leaguers responded before they figured out it was a hoax, and a llama in Bruce's office. The llama caused the most trouble in the end, as Damian was furious when Bruce insisted on sending it back to the petting zoo it had "mysteriously" been stolen from. All of Dick's attempts to calm the youngest were wasted, and soon Damian and Jason were found conspiring in quiet corners when Bruce wasn't looking.

In the chaos no one noticed the discrete high-five Tim and Cullen exchanged except for Cass, who was bribed into silence with some blackmail worthy photos of Jason and stories about six-year-old Harper.

But that was for later. Right now Tim was home surrounded by people who may be a little overprotective, but that he knew loved him. And that was worth more than anything else in the world to him.