Chapter Text
Bruce is working on the latest Justice League case when he hears a crackling sound behind him. At first, he pays it no mind, used to the antics of some of the bats that always give him company…but then, he hears it again.
< Tzh >
And again.
< Tzh >
He sighs.
"Alfred, I told you I'm not hungry."
No one answers.
< Tzh Tzzh Tzzzzzh Tzzzzzzzhhhhhh >
At the constant sound, Bruce grumbles.
He turns off the screen of the computer and swivels in his chair. For lack of a better explanation, there's a…there's a portal in his Cave.
His mind starts to race. A time-traveling villain? Aliens? Darkseid? Another prank from Flash and Booster? Maybe they involved Kal this time, if not then how did they manage to recreate a perfect incarnation of his laser vision in the form of a circle?
Bruce quickly discards his thoughts, reaches for his utility belt, and stands in a fighting position. He needs to collect data from what he can actually see. This clearly isn't a JL’s prank —Flash would’ve already given himself up—, which means the worst: his whole crusade is compromised. He needs to declare code Blackout and get in contact with Alfred so he can start preparing everything for their flight to Kake, Alaska. Getting used to the climate would be hard but it will be useful thanks to its small population. If not, they can always go to his cabin in Norway while he creates new identities for both of them.
Even if Bruce doesn’t want it to, his heart is succumbing inside his chest. He knew the moment someone learned everything would come but it still feels wrong. It feels too soon, and it hurts.
His parent’s legacy is in peril; he needs to act, now.
“Agent A,” he growls in comms, feeling pissed at himself for whatever slip-up led to this (for a minute he thought of just calling Alfred by his name but he still isn’t sure if the intruder knows their identities and, at this point, it is just wishful thinking; how could the intruder not know when he’s already in Wayne Manor?), “Code Blackout, I repeat, code Blackout. Get somewhere safe while I deal with this.”
The please doesn’t leave his mouth but it's implied. Bruce hears Alfred shuddering breath before he responds, “Very well, Sir,” and the line disconnects.
If their location and identities are compromised, all sorts of tech must go. Bruce reaches for the computer and clicks on a simple grey button while thinking that he must have seen this coming. He should have had a protocol for this. At the same time, Bruce knows he can’t totally blame himself. Aliens and time travel are still a new thing—not so new that Flash and Booster hadn’t pulled off a prank or two using both, though.
He needs to focus on the facts. The guilt is wearing him down. The portal is getting bigger. The reddish outline of the circle is becoming more and more orange. Then, yellow. It looks like someone is going to appear in front of him at any moment.
His comm crackles once, “Everything is set, Sir. I’ll be waiting at the front door.”
“No,” he replies, “I’ll see you in the city limits.”
“You won’t. I’ll be waiting here for you.”
“Alfr–,” Bruce interrupts himself, “All tech should be down by now.”
“Indeed, Sir.”
Comms are hopefully totally offline now. Bruce reaches for his comm, throws it on the floor, and crushes it with his boot. By now the portal is nearly his size, totally yellow in its outline. He braces himself once again but can’t keep up with the physics. The portal changes its sound, making a boom, once, twice, and then a flashing light overwhelms his senses. Bruce closes his eyes tightly and covers his cowled face, taking a step away. He would be of no use if he's killed.
He can see bodies being formed, sizzling and stepping out of the portal, when the computer behind him chimes once, letting him know that all his files are now secure on Alfred’s encrypted phone. It’s hard to properly see with the blinding light, but Bruce endures and catches sight of five humans finally touching the floor of the Cave.
He hears the crackling sound one last time,
< Tzh >
and the light is gone.
His temple is throbbing, and his eyes are watery, but Bruce opens them quickly and straightens his spine. He can feel the sweat pooling on his forehead; he blinks once, and then…
And then…?
Bruce blinks again but the five children standing in front of him don’t disappear. Five children. The youngest must be seven and the oldest at least twelve.
He doesn’t know what is happening. Or how. Or why. Or who. His fight instincts slow down rapidly, leaving only the adrenaline and shock flooding through his blood.
Bruce opens his mouth, but before he can speak one of the children take a step forward and lifts his chin.
“Who are you!”
The child isn’t asking, he is demanding an answer. He has his jet-black hair pulled backward and eerily blue eyes. He looks like me, Bruce contemplates but quickly discards the thought.
Before his brain can reboot, another child copies the first one and takes a step forward too, “Answer, Old Man! Where are we!”
They must be brothers. This one has black hair and blue eyes too, only his hair is styled differently and the blue in his eyes is darker. There’s another one with the same physical traits just behind the latter, shorter in size with long hair and eyes a paler shade of blue.
The only difference between the three is the color of their skin. From tallest to shortest, the skin becomes lighter.
Triplets, maybe?
The other two kids are totally different. The girl is white with fluffy blonde hair and the youngest boy has brown skin and green eyes. Despite the differences, the youngest child is the one who looks the most like him.
But how?
At Bruce’s lack of response and utter shock, the kids start talking all at once. It's when Bruce realizes they all have the same colorful outfit. It only varies in style, but the colors repeat: red, green, yellow. Only three of them include black. Maybe a uniform? A team of super kids? All of them have a yellow R on the left side of their chest.
“Answer us, coward!”
“How did you get us here!”
“We need to get back!”
“Where’s the thing? Tim! Where’s the thing!”
“I don’t know! Don’t look at me like that! Dami took it!”
“I did not!”
“Yes, you did!”
“Stop fighting!”
“They’re not fighting! Dami just give him the thing!”
“But Steph! I don’t have it!”
“Then who has it! Steph!”
“No-uh! Don’t get me involved in this!”
“We’re all involved!”
“We’re all fucked!”
“No bad words!”
“We’re fucked!”
“No bad words in front of Dami and Tim!”
“Tim’s nine, Dick! Let it go! We’re fucked!”
Bruce’s brain starts working again.
“Kids,” he tries.
“We are not screwed!”
“This is Timothy’s fault!”
“Hey!”
Bruce sighs, “Kids!”
“What did we say about blaming others, Dami!”
“But it’s his fault!”
“But it worked!”
“Well, it clearly did, genius!”
“Jay!”
“Whatever!”
“Stop!” He is Batman. Bruce can deal with this. Whatever this is. “Stop shouting, everyone! Please.”
The kids turn slowly to look at him, one frightened, two squinting their eyes, and the remaining two frowning at him as if he is the devil incarnate.
"I'm Batman," he starts.
One of the triplets giggles. From what he heard, is Jay.
Bruce shifts uncomfortably and clears his throat, "This is my home. It’s a Cave.” Another giggle. “I assume you are time travelers."
The majority of them shrug their heads but one of the triplets raises his hand.
"Not exactly, Mr. Batman," the kid, Tim, bites his lip nervously, "I was experimenting on time traveling but it was my first attempt," he pauses, "Our whole-world first attempt, actually."
Bruce hums. The world they're from must be primitive in time traveling, just like this one. The kids are likely family or at least friends. To have that amount of resources, also, means that they must be in some sort of elite team. And that organization must be full of incompetent adults if they'd failed in supervising their children. Even if the kids have superpowers, they must have had a caretaker or at least someone who said ‘no’ when they asked about experimenting with time travel.
"I see," and Bruce takes a few seconds to think about what to say next, "My world is limited in the knowledge of time traveling too but we have superheroes. I am… a vigilante."
The kids blink at him.
"I'm also part of a team called Justice League of America," he mumbles.
"Only of America?" Dick, the oldest and tallest, huffs. "We are the Worldwide Robins."
It takes Bruce great effort to not gape, "Excuse me?"
"We are the protectors of the Parliament!" Steph replies with excitement, her hair bouncing, "We endure, maintain, and protect the citizens of Avem!"
Birds.
Robins, Parliament, Avem… Birds.
"The 'thing' you were arguing about, is that your way home?" Bruce tries not to cross his arms. He must be open, not menacing.
Dick grimaces, "Yes."
"Our only way home," Jay adds with irritation, "We don't know what Timmy did to it."
At his mention, the kid scowls, "I already told you I gave it to Dami!"
The youngling crosses his arms and pouts, "You did not!"
"Maybe you dropped it, little bird," Dick crouches to be at Dami's length, softening his voice, "It's alright if you did. We were going too fast."
There is no doubt in Bruce's mind that they are family.
"But I didn't," Dami mumbles with red cheeks, "And stop treating me like a baby, there are people here."
The youngest looks at him for a few seconds before retreating.
"Alright," Bruce nods to himself, trying to process all the new information, "We could do a replica of the…?"
"Ro-Beam," Dick grins proudly while Tim does with embarrassment.
Bruce smiles in return with his lips. The kind of smile he gives in Crime Alley to children in danger.
"We can replicate the Robeam so you all can get home soon," Bruce promises. "Are any of you injured?"
The kids shake their heads, except Dick.
"I somehow sprained my ankle," he admits.
Bruce nods, "We’ll go to the infirmary in a minute. Anyone else?"
"I'm just hungry," Steph says with zero shyness.
"Me too," Jay touches his belly. "I'm hangry."
"Jeez," Steph rolls her eyes, "We have enough with Dick."
Bruce is still lost in the current situation. "I'll make a call. You kids stay here."
He turns around, walking a few meters away from them. He can hear them muttering while he searches for another comm in his utility belt.
"Why should we trust him?"
"Did you see his smile? I think we're Mr. Batman’s only friends."
"Exactly, what if he's a psycho?"
Bruce is not going to laugh. This is too awkward for him to handle alone.
"Master Bruce?"
The relief of hearing Alfred’s voice should concern him; instead, Bruce basks in it.
"False alarm, old friend. I need you to come downstairs."
"Is everything alright, Sir?"
Bruce looks back at the five children, now laughing at the T-Rex and the Giant Penny, and sighs, "I believe we have a problem.” Dick and Dami are now trying to climb the dinosaur while Steph and Jay cheer them up and Tim bites his nails nervously. “Five problems, to be accurate."