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Chapter Text

It was July 4th, and for once, the early evening hours found the (nearly) eleven year old Tim Drake wandering around the edges of his parents’ property rather than the streets of Gotham. He’d decided not to venture into the city tonight for multiple reasons. One: the patriotism-slash-colorful-explosion themed holiday was just asking to become a target for a Rogue plot looking to make a statement. Two: earlier that day he had noticed Bruce Wayne, both his sons, Mr. Pennyworth, and the awkward bespectacled reporter that Tim had seen with Mr. Wayne at galas before and was 80% certain was actually Superman all piling into one of Mr. Wayne’s larger cars with several overnight bags apiece before driving off out of the city. They were obviously off to spend the holiday somewhere pleasant as a family. Tim thought that maybe if Mr. Kent really was Superman, then Batman might still be planning to zoom back to Gotham tonight to keep an eye on things, but he couldn’t be certain, so he really shouldn’t risk being caught up in a big Rogue to-do tonight without Gotham’s guardian nearby to put an end to it. Three: it had been a couple of years since Tim had tried his hand at photographing a fireworks show, and he’d been itching to see what his more advanced skills could produce now that he had more experience with nighttime photography under his belt. With all of that in mind, he’d decided the night would be better spent watching the skies above Gotham’s country club as they put on their over the top fireworks show rather than running through the city streets that would be more crowded and possibly more dangerous than usual. 

He’d thought about just sitting up on the roof of his house, but when he’d climbed out there that afternoon, he’d realized that the proximity of the treeline meant he’d have a hard time getting the type of clear shots he wanted. That was when he’d remembered the treehouse near the back of their lot that Jack had started to build with him three summers ago. 

His parents had planned to be in Gotham for two whole months and had come up with all sorts of fun things they would be doing together, but then a startling new discovery by one of their rival archeologists had them jetting off to Argentina two weeks into Tim’s summer break. Tim still had nannies back then, and it turned out the lucky college student who’d gotten the gig that summer was the daughter of a carpenter, and she actually knew how to build things like that. Since all the supplies were purchased, she and Tim kept working on it. Between her experience and Tim’s ambition, they’d expanded upon the simplistic design that Jack had originally drawn up and made the secret base tree fort hideout of any seven year old’s dreams. Sadly, when his parents returned, Jack had thrown a bit of a fit about the whole business—declared it an unsafe structure built by an amateur, fired the nanny for letting Tim do something so ‘dangerous’, and forbidden Tim from going up into his treehouse until he had time to fix it and make sure it was safe. He never got around to it, and Tim had eventually forgotten it was out there. Now, though, as long as it was still intact, it would make the perfect perch to get the shots he wanted unencumbered by trees. 

So he’d packed a bag with his camera equipment, a few bottles of water, bug spray, his swiss army knife, his trusty taser on the off chance there were murder clowns in the woods or something (this was Gotham so that chance was never zero), a large bag of trail mix (with the M&ms and no raisins, duh), some extra socks and a thin sweatshirt in case the night got chilly or buggy, and then set off for a hike. The Drake’s property was far larger than it needed to be, especially since Tim was the only Drake around to enjoy it most of the time, and it took over thirty minutes to reach the back end of the property. Since no one had been back there for years, it had grown into an unpleasantly dense thicket, and he scraped his arms up some, but eventually, he made it to the base of the large, sturdy oak tree that he and Ms. Veronica had spent months scampering up and down all those summers ago. 

He smiled to himself as he tested the ladder for sturdiness while letting the memories wash over him. She really had been a wonderful nanny. She must have graduated from Gotham U this year, he wondered where she was off to now… maybe he should write her a letter to see how she was doing? No, that would be weird. He was just some kid she used to watch. Besides, she’d been really upset when Jack and Janet had accused her of endangering Tim, it would be inconsiderate of him to bring back those memories for her. It would be better to leave her to her life and allow her to live on in his memories only. 

Tim was exceedingly careful as he climbed up into the treehouse, making sure to test every board for stability before trusting it with his weight. He was used to such careful movements thanks to his jaunts around Gotham that made liberal use of rusted fire escapes, and with plenty of patience, he arrived safely at the top of the small crow’s nest that Ms. Veronica had added at his insistence. It was as far up on the tree as they could possibly go while maintaining structural stability, and it had a spectacular view of the picturesque backroads of Bristol. The rolling greens of the country club’s golf course started about a mile away. 

He settled into his perch as the golden rays of dusk started to slip down the horizon. He had plenty of pretty sunset pictures already, but since the view was so good he snapped a few more before putting his camera aside and pulling out his phone to wile some time away before the fireworks started. After about forty five minutes, he started getting uncomfortable from sitting so long and stood up to stretch. 

There was still some time before the show was expected to start, so when he craned his neck back to stretch out his back, Tim was surprised to see a bright red light streaking through the sky above him. Huh; they must have started early. He grabbed his camera and popped off the lens cap before training it on the sky, ready to catch the next firework. He could hear it now, the whistle of projectiles moving at high speeds through the sky. He trained his camera on the sky above the country club for a minute, but when nothing else showed up, he lowered it and frowned. Perhaps that was someone else’s fireworks? 

It was then that he heard a loud boom. The platform beneath his feet started to shake, and in a moment of blind panic, he grabbed onto a nearby branch and clung to it for dear life as he squeezed his eyes shut. When the treehouse stopped shaking and didn’t suddenly fall apart beneath him, he peeled his eyes back open and looked around, hoping to find an explanation for the disturbance. There was nothing amiss at the base of his treehouse, but when he looked out over the woods, he noticed a strange, steady red light coming from over towards where the forested back end of the Drake property became the slightly-more-attended grounds of Wayne Manor. 

Tim stared at it and bit his lip, considering. If something…weird had fallen out of the sky towards Wayne Manor, there was a chance it was related to Mr. Wayne’s night hobbies. Meaning it might be dangerous. However, as far as he was aware, the Waynes weren’t home right now to investigate this disturbance themselves. Also, what if the red light he was seeing was a fire set by a stray firework or something? He should probably call the fire department for that sort of thing, right? And to do that, he’d need to confirm it was a fire. And he couldn't tell from here if it was actually over the property line or not. If something had fallen out of the sky onto Drake Manor’s property, well, then it was his responsibility, right? His parents always did seem to like it when he took his responsibilities seriously. 

He considered leaving his things up here, but ultimately decided that it would be better to bring them along. Depending on what he found, he might want his camera, and it was better to transport that in his backpack. Also, he’d need his flashlight and possibly his knife to navigate through the woods in the dark. He descended from the treehouse much more quickly than he’d come up it and headed off in the direction of the odd lightshow. 

The trek through this part of the woods was more difficult than his earlier route since there had never been a path there to begin with, but it was thankfully shorter, and soon enough, he spotted the red light through the trees. It wasn’t flickering or anything, nor could he smell smoke, so he decided to tentatively rule out the fire option. A few more minutes of pushing his way around and through the brambles, and he reached the crumbling stone wall that marked out the edges of their properties. He avoided touching it in case Batman had some sort of security measures that would activate. Instead, he followed along it towards the north, where the light was coming from. When he finally reached his destination, he gasped. 

A freaking. Spaceship—pod?—thingy had crashed right into the wall between the Wayne and Drake properties and was currently sitting in a pile of rubble. 

It was spherical, made of gleaming silver metal, and had bright red lights circling it in a ring and giving off the constant glow that had drawn him here. He grabbed his camera and took several pictures, but he hung back in the woods, waiting to see if anyone—or any thing—would emerge from the strange object. His mind raced to come up with possible explanations. Was the Earth under threat from an alien invasion again? Was this the first attack? Fourth of July would be a good time to launch a covert alien invasion in America at least, what with all the fireworks going off all over the country. But there was also the fact that it seemed to have been aiming for Batman’s backyard. Did the alien invaders know who Batman was and were trying to neutralize him early on? Or did this belong to a friendly alien? Maybe it was one of Batman’s Justice League friends testing new tech, or someone from the Lantern Corps dropping by for a visit? 

He sat and watched silently for several minutes, but nothing emerged from or changed about the pod, so finally Tim decided to take his investigation from the passively observational stage into something a bit more interactive. After all, whatever this thing was had crashed literally on the property line. This was half in his jurisdiction, right? And when Batman did show up, whatever this was would probably be whisked away before he got the chance to figure out what it was. It might be now or never to investigate the alien spacecraft. Who would be stupid enough to turn down that kind of opportunity? Not Tim Drake, that was for sure! 

Tim silently crept out of the undergrowth, his camera held aloft as he approached the pod. It wasn’t very big up close—about the size of a minivan. The portion of wall it had landed on was reduced to rubble by the impact, and he could still feel some lingering heat, presumably leftover from the thing’s descent through the atmosphere. When he was a few steps away from it, he glanced up and searched the skies, looking for any sign of other… visitors. When he spotted nothing, he turned back to the pod. 

He took a few more pictures from up close, but honestly, for photos of a literal alien spacecraft, they weren’t very exciting. It was a single sheet of smooth metal, unbroken except for where the lights were set. Those just kept putting out the same red glow at the same intensity. Tim pursed his lips and glanced around again, first at the sky and then peering through the gap made in the wall to make sure he wasn’t yet getting any Batty visitors. Still alone; it might be now or never. He was going to touch it. 

He wasn’t a moron, so the first thing he did was grab a long stick from under a nearby tree and poke at the spaceship from a relatively safe distance. No death lasers went off, no alarms sounded, and no alien monsters popped out to attack him. Figuring that it was probably safe enough, he lowered the stick and approached the pod with his other hand outstretched. He gently settled his palm on the smooth metal surface, his heart fluttering in his chest with excitement. He was touching an alien spaceship! This had to be one of the coolest things to ever happen to him—second only to figuring out he lived next door to Batman! 

Tim thought he should try to inspect it for hidden latches or buttons or something, but when he tried to move his hand, it wouldn’t budge. He frowned as he tried to pull it off, but it remained stuck. Almost automatically, he raised one of his feet to press against the ship as well in an effort to get some leverage, which was a bad plan because then his foot was stuck to the ship as well. 

Huh. So touching the strange alien spacecraft that had fallen from the sky may not have been the best idea after all. Who could have guessed? God, he almost hoped Batman wasn’t actually in town tonight, this would be such an embarrassing way to meet his hero. 

Before he could decide what his best course of action would be (scream? Fish his phone out of his pocket and call the fire department, or someone?), the lights on the ship grew brighter, and he felt a sudden wave of warmth settle over his skin. He looked down at his hands again and couldn’t hold in a startled gasp. He was now glowing the same bright red as the spaceship! 

The red glow grew brighter, and brighter, until suddenly it was so bright it hurt and Tim had to squeeze his eyes shut against it. He threw his free arm over his eyes and twisted as much away from the light source as he could, but it didn’t seem to help because even with his eyes closed he could still see the bright red light swallowing him whole and could feel it grow hotter, and hotter, and it was getting too hot, and every instinct inside of him was screaming to get away, but he couldn’t, he was stuck and he was going to melt or scream or burst into flames—

—Tim really wasn’t sure what exactly happened next. His brain must have shorted out somehow, because one second he was drowning in red light in the forest behind his house, and the next he was blinking dazedly on the cold metal floor in a round, chilly room, all made of that same unbroken white metal that had made up the pod. Before he could get his bearings, the wall directly in front of him slid open in an oblong shape resembling a door. A thin, insect-like creature with six arms and wings protruding from its back and a perfectly round head and huge white eyes marched into the room and looked straight at him. 

Tim jerked to attention and scuttled backwards, going until he slammed into the wall. The alien didn’t chase after him. It just observed him and made a series of clicking noises. Belatedly, Tim realized its head was so round and its eyes so white because it was wearing some sort of helmet.  

After a bit more of it clicking and Tim must staring, the alien seemed to realize Tim didn’t understand him and reached one of its six arms up to tap the side of its helmet.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to turn the translation on,” it said in an even, monotonous tone. “Hello, and welcome to our humble ship. We mean you no harm. So long as you assist us in our endeavor, we shall return you to the place we acquired you unharmed. We have come to seek help from you, Batman, Great Fear Demon of Earth.” 

Tim gulped. Somewhere along the way, he had definitely miscalculated. 

Thirty minutes after his security systems had notified him of a perimeter breach (and ten minutes after the alien pod whisked away the curious neighbor boy, although he had no way of knowing this), Batman stood next to Superman and inspected the pile of rocks where the wall in the back end of his property used to be. 

“Found anything yet?” Superman asked. He’d flown Bruce to the Batcave from Smallville almost as soon as the alert had gone off, had helped Bruce change into his suit at superspeed, and then used his powers to perform an inspection of the Cave, the Manor, and the yard immediately surrounding Bruce’s home before Batman had finally declared it secure and allowed him to deliver him to the actual site of the breach. When they’d gotten there, Batman had immediately started cataloging the scene while Superman hovered over his shoulder and ‘kept watch’.  

Batman just grunted in reply. He knelt at the edge of the wall and leaned forwards, his eyes sweeping over the rubble and searching for any clue as to what could have done this. He’d taken a sample of the rocks, as well as the soil, but aside from concluding that some large object had crashed into his wall at high speeds from above but had gone now, he didn’t have anything conclusive. 

 “Was it a drone attack?” Superman suggested, his eyes sweeping the skies. “Or a satellite falling out of orbit?” 

Batman frowned. “It would have to be a pretty big drone. And a pretty small satellite. And there’s still the question of where it’s gone. Neither of those things would have just up and flown away after a crash like this.” 

“Maybe someone came and took it away.”

“Hn.” They couldn’t have taken it through the grounds of Wayne Manor without tripping one of his endless security measures. But if someone approached it from the other side of the wall, perhaps… 

Batman stood and gestured for Superman to fly down to him. “Set me down on the other side of the wall,” he said while looping an arm around his neck. “I don’t want to disturb the scene by climbing through the hole.” 

Superman complied, zipping them up and over and settling the other hero gently on the edge of the Drake property. Batman gave the hole in the wall a cursory once over from this side before turning to inspect the surrounding area. There were no signs of anything heavy being dragged. There were some freshly broken twigs that suggested something had been moving through the forest recently—a small deer, perhaps, based on the height? He took a few more soil samples from this side of the wall and was just about to have Superman take them back over when something at the base of a nearby tree caught his eye. 

He leaned down and picked up a hard, black plastic circle from between a tangle of roots. “A lens cap?” He muttered, frowning as he registered the familiar shape of the object. Someone had been out here with a camera at some point, then. The lens cap had been wedged in there pretty firmly, so it may not have been lost that evening, but it wasn’t beat up enough to have been more than a few days. He would have assumed it belonged to one of the Drakes, had they not been out of the country since May, off to one of their international digs that they wouldn’t shut up about whenever they made it to a gala. 

“Wait, can I see that?” Superman asked. Batman handed it to him, and he inspected it carefully. “This is from a very expensive camera,” he declared. “Jimmy favors this brand, swears it’s the best on the market. Wonder how it got all the way out here…” 

“Hn.” It was a good question, but Batman was having trouble coming up with a plausible connection between a wayward photographer and the giant fucking hole in his wall. Whatever had made it wasn’t human—at least, not a regular human. Still—it was a potential lead, and it would get his full attention. In time. “I’ll track down the owner tomorrow,” he decided, taking the lens cap back and slipping it into one of his evidence bags. “I’ll see if the Drake family owns security cameras. No one’s supposed to be living in that house right now, so I doubt there are any potential eyewitnesses besides whoever lost their lens cap.” 

“The house looks empty, at any rate,” Superman muttered, his eyes fixed in the direction of the neighbor’s house. “No heartbeats there either.”

“Then it’ll keep until tomorrow,” Batman declared, glancing up towards the nearly darkened horizon. “We have to be back to the farm before the fireworks start there.”

“We’ve still got an hour or so,” Superman pointed out. 

Batman grunted. “Won’t risk it.” He’d promised the boys they’d have a peaceful family outing for a holiday for once, and he intended to keep it. 

With Superman’s assistance, they swiftly changed back into their civilian personas and returned to Kansas where their families waited on the grassy lawn outside the Kent farmhouse and settled in with plenty of time to sit back and watch the fireworks. 

Still, even while he was sitting with an arm around each of his boys and watching the colorful light show above them, something kept tugging at the back of Bruce’s mind. He felt like somewhere along the way, he’d missed… something.

Chapter Text

Six nights later, he finally figured out what it was. 

“Uh… Mr. Batman, sir? Are you finally awake?”

Bruce blinked several times as his mind raced and he tried to get his bearings. He’d been… He’d been returning to the cave after patrol, and had been almost home when something huge had crashed in front of the Batmobile. He’d barely swerved out of the way in time, and then he’d gotten out to investigate it. And then he’d touched whatever it was, and it had lit up in red light, and then… then it was now. And now he was lying on the floor of a small, all-white room while a small, dark haired child sat next to him and stared with blatant curiosity. 

He sat up with a groan. “Where am I?” 

“Some sort of cell on an alien spaceship,” the child said, his voice sounding more annoyed than anything else. “I’ve got an escape plan, though, so don’t worry. I’ll get you out of here.” 

That was… not exactly what Batman had expected he’d say. “How do you know this is an alien craft?”

The child gave him a look that was very unimpressed. “Context clues. You’re not the only person in Gotham capable of solving a mystery, you know, and this one wasn’t even that hard. Strange spaceship-like pod shows up in my backyard, I touch it, I lose time, and the next thing I know I’m here and some weird talking bug creature is calling me the Fear Demon of Earth.”

Batman frowned. “And who are you?”

The kid rolled his eyes. “Tim. Tim Drake. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I’m a little less than impressed that you seem to have fallen for the same trick I did, and walked right into these aliens’ trap. It wasn’t even that hard to spot, looking back. Honestly it would have been better if you could’ve waited even a day. Then I’d have gotten free and been able to just tell you what they were up to instead of getting us both stuck.” 

He must still be disoriented from whatever transportation had brought him here, because he was having trouble processing what this child was telling him. He took a careful look around and saw that they did appear to be in an unremarkable cell made of smooth white metal and few distinguishing features. The room was round, so there weren’t really corners, but one edge of the room  seemed to be where Tim had settled in. A tattered black backpack was laying on its side, zipper undone and contents spilled out on the floor. He could see an empty water bottle, a flashlight, what looked suspiciously like a high voltage taser, and a camera. 

A camera without a lens cap. 

The last name finally clicked. Drake. The mysterious hole in his wall. The ‘small deer’ that had been on the scene. He reached into one of the pouches on his utility belt and pulled out the lens cap from where he’d stashed it for safekeeping after the prints he’d pulled hadn’t turned up any matches. “Are you missing something?” 

Tim’s face lit up at the sight and he snatched it out of Batman’s hand. “Oh, sweet! You found it! I was so pissed at myself when I realized I lost it.” He scooted over to where his camera was sitting and clipped it on letting out a satisfied sigh. “Usually I carry a spare, but, uh. This was the spare. Broke the other one a few nights ago. Er, a few nights before I was taken, I guess. Hey, what day was it when you got snatched up?” 

Bruce stared at him, trying to figure out why his neighbors’ small child had been abducted by aliens in his backyard six nights ago, and how he hadn’t heard about it, as Bruce but especially as Batman. Also wasn’t he supposed to be out of the country? “The tenth.” 

Tim pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “I’ve been up here for six days, then. My count was off by one, I must have lost more time than I thought before I woke up that first time… by the way, you’ve been passed out for almost seven hours since they brought you in here. I think. Again, I’m having trouble keeping track of the time. My phone is long dead and they don't exactly have American standard electrical outlets in the cell, so this is mostly a lot of guesswork.” 

Batman pursed his lips and glanced around before pushing himself to stand. The lingering disorientation was finally fading, so it was time to properly get his bearings and inspect his surroundings so he could start working on ways to get himself and Tim out of this mess. Tim simply sat back and stared up at him with his huge, curious eyes. 

…They were blue. Like Dick’s. Like Jason’s. 

Fuck, no, he needed to focus. Ok, the room: white metal walls, bright lights, and almost as completely smooth as it first appeared, with the exception of a small seam in the wall he noticed when he was on the side of the room close to where Tim’s stuff was spread out. He knelt down and started to run his hands over it, but suddenly Tim popped up next to him. 

“Here, I’ll show you, there’s a trick to it!” he chirped. Bruce, who had definitely not startled at him creeping up as silently as a ghost, sat back on his heels and gestured for him to demonstrate. Tim easily slid into the space between him and the wall (—how old was this kid supposed to be? Was he supposed to be this small? He seemed too small—) and pressed his finger against what looked like just another place in the wall. However, the seam slid to the side, revealing a small square in the wall that led into a dark recessed space with several wires and cables dangling in it. It was too small to fit a human adult through it, but it looked like it could accommodate a child, and Batman was struck with an ominous foreboding about what Tim had been up to for the six days since he’d been abducted. 

“It’s something like a vent and something like crawl space,” Tim started to explain. He leaned forward and made to crawl in. Bruce’s hand shot out on a panicked instinct to grasp the back of his hoodie as something within him was seized with the certainty that the square of alien darkness was going to swallow Tim whole and never spit him out again. 

“Don’t go in there,” he said in the authoritative voice usually reserved for overeager Robins. “I don’t know if it’s safe.”  

Tim’s nose scrunched up in irritation as he tried to twist out of Batman’s hold. “I’ve already been through there. It’s fine. And it’s an integral part of my escape plan, so if you want me to get you out, you need to calm down and trust that I know what I’m doing.” 

Bruce gave him an unimpressed look. Dick and Jason had both been known to insist on similar things in the past, to varying degrees of success. Dick and Jason had both been trained. “Just because it hasn’t harmed you before does not mean it is actually safe. I will have to inspect it before I even consider utilizing it for an escape plan—which I must respectfully request you leave for me to worry about. You are a child. As the adult in this situation, it is my responsibility to ensure your safety at all times.” 

Tim scoffed. “I’m not some helpless baby, I’m eleven. Come on, you’d let Robin go in there.”

Bruce kept his voice level and calm even as he gritted his teeth. “Perhaps under certain circumstances, I might. However, what I would or would not let Robin do is irrelevant here, because I’ve personally trained Robin as well as provided him with the highest standard of armor and gear. You are an unequipped, untrained civilian, and I—”

“Really? Would an incompetent civilian have beaten you to the Riddler’s hideout by twenty-seven minutes last month?” Tim hissed as he crossed his arms. Bruce stared at him, gobsmacked.

“What?”

“The breakout before that, I beat you by fifteen,” Tim added, looking vindictively smug. “So I’m only getting better. Maybe next time, I’ll make it an hour and settle in for a nice picnic with his goons while I wait for you to show up and kick his butt.” 

“Why are you tracking down the Riddler in the first place?” 

Tim’s eyes widened and he broke eye contact, making Bruce think that he might have given away more information than he’d intended to. Before he could question him further on his apparent habit of seeking out one of Batman’s most slippery Rogues, the bright light above them flickered and Tim suddenly stiffened as he glanced towards the wall opposite them. 

“Shit, they’re coming,” he muttered. He twisted around and pressed the same section of wall as before, causing the panel of wall to slide back into place. Just as it did, a door appeared in another wall and an alien creature that Bruce recognized from one of Green Lantern’s presentations on potential intergalactic aggressors strode into the room. One that had been marked ‘low risk’ and therefore been glossed over, so Bruce really didn’t have much background information to work with. Damnit, Hal… 

Bruce scrambled to his feet and held his arm out to the side so that his cape hid Tim from the newcomer's view as a robotic voice spoke in monotone. “Hello, and welcome to our humble ship. We mean you no harm. So long as you assist us in our endeavor, we shall return you to the place we acquired you unharmed. We have come to seek help from you, Batman, Great Fear Demon of Earth.” 

Tim would have loved to just sit back and listen as Batman turned up his scary factor and tried to intimidate their alien captor. He really did enjoy watching the hero work, even if Tim did sometimes figure things out a little bit faster than he did. Despite how he’d just presented it to Batman, he fully acknowledged that he had a not insignificant advantage in neither having to worry about keeping civilians safe nor appeasing the police by taking time to communicate with them during high stakes situations. However, it was already clear that this was another situation where Tim had a couple of advantages over Batman—namely, his several days worth of intel gathering and observing their captors, and the fact that he was appropriately sized to squeeze himself into the tight gaps between the interior and exterior walls of the spaceship—and so the responsible thing that would benefit the both of them was to respectfully ignore his request to turn over the escape operation to Batman, and forge ahead with his own plans, just now with a couple extra steps to accommodate the superhero he’d just become responsible for. 

So while Batman was busy being all growly at the alien, Tim silently shucked his sweatshirt and pulled it over his backpack before leaning the bundle against the wall. He spread out its arms and propped up his hood with his camera settled securely on top of the backpack. Fun fact he’d learned about the bug aliens on day two: they had horrible eyesight, seemingly able to distinguish color and general shape and not too much else. There was about a fifty fifty chance the guard would merely glance at the decoy before leaving and think it was him sleeping or something, and keep them from suspecting another break out. Tim assumed that Batman would manage to be distracting enough to hold most of its attention anyway. If they did realize Tim had gotten out of his cell again, he was almost certain they would expect him to head to the main computer terminals, since he’d done that the last few times he’d been caught out of his cell. He wouldn’t, though. 

Once his decoy was established, he made sure he was still hidden behind Batman’s figure, and then pressed  the hidden button to release the secret hatch When he’d first discovered it, he’d been incredibly skeptical about the presence of a secret escape hatch in his cell. But further observation of the ship as a whole has made him theorize that this particular vessel hadn't been built by or for this particular species, and certain aspects about his cell made him think it wasn’t originally intended as a prison, but more so as a storage space.

One last glance at Batman confirmed both he and the alien were still occupied in their conversation, so Tim quietly slipped into the crawl space, ducking around the wires and cables using a now familiar route. Once he used the hidden lever on this side to slide the panel shut behind him, he was able to rely on the glow conveniently provided by a strip of light around the floor that flickered on once the entrance was closed.

This was actually one of the features that had clued him in on the fact that this ship wasn’t built with the bug aliens in mind—there was no way they’d be able to use this convenient little passage, what with all their bulky appendages that they were never quite able to get to lay flat, so why would they include a guide light in the area, let alone put it there in the first place? He’d wondered a bit at the kind of species it was intended for, but unfortunately he didn’t know of that many kinds of sentient aliens (he really only knew about the ones that had invaded Earth in the past, or the ones like the Martians and Kryptonians and Tamaranians who had individuals living here permanently). He had already decided that once he got home he should try to hack either the Justice League’s database, or possibly Green Lantern’s personal database of all known alien species, if he kept such a thing—Tim hoped he did; if Tim were a Green Lantern, he definitely would. That way, he’d never be caught so off guard by aliens attempting to kidnap Batman but accidentally landing in his yard again… 

Just as he reached the place where there was a ladder with rungs just slightly too close together to be for a human that would lead him up into the vent space in the ceilings, the area behind him suddenly lit up. 

“Tim! Tim Drake, get back here right now,” Batman snapped. When Tim looked back, he was treated to the sight of Batman’s head poking through the hole in the wall while he tried to maneuver his broad shoulders to fit through the narrow opening. Tim couldn’t help but snort; it was clearly geometrically impossible, but leave it to Batman to try to defy the laws of physical space like that. 

“Trying to full name me doesn’t work very well if you don’t even use my full name,” Tim pointed out, a little unimpressed because he’d met Bruce Wayne a couple of times at galas, and his parents never introduced him as less than ‘Timothy Jackson’ in formal settings. 

“…Timothy, then,” Batman growled. “This is not what we discussed! You haven’t even told me what your plan is.”

“Wouldn’t call it much of a discussion,” Tim muttered before turning back and starting to mount the ladder. “I’ll tell you in a minute, just let me get the door,” he added a little bit louder, for Batman’s benefit. Batman’s further protests were studiously ignored as he scampered up into the ceiling vent passageway thingy. The secret space between the walls of the ship led all over the vessel, and he’d been mentally mapping out the ship and observing his captors through secret spy holes in order to learn everything he could. He’d been planning on typing up a report of what he’d seen and anonymously mailing it to Batman, but since Batman had crashed his escape and would be able to make his own observations, there wouldn’t be much point now. 

It took him less than two minutes to crawl through the passage over the hallway, descend the correct hidden ladder to put himself back on ground level, leave through the secret hatch in the hallway, and then open the door to the makeshift prison cell he and Batman had been stashed it, but you wouldn’t know it with how desperately Batman whipped around and lunged across the room at the sight of him. 

“Tim!” Batman grasped him tightly by the shoulders and kneeled in front of him, looking him over with an expression somewhere between furious and terrified. “Do not disappear like that again!” 

Tim found the whole act a bit overblown, to be honest. He’d told Batman there wasn’t any danger in the passages, hadn’t he? He was a good and respectful child, he wouldn't lie to Batman, not unless it was over something important. “I know what I’m doing,” he said with a scowl. “Can you please stop overreacting? You’re cutting into our limited opportunity to escape. When it was just me it took them hours to notice I was moving around their ship, but you won’t fit into the secret passages, so we’ll have to use the main halls and we’re bound to be spotted sooner rather than later.” 

Batman stared at him for a moment more with an inscrutable expression on his face before he released Tim and pushed himself up to stand. “Very well. We can continue this conversation when we’ve both made it to safety.” 

Tim nodded and took off down the passageway as fast as he could while still saying silent, giving Batman no time to reconsider. “Tim!” Batman barked, catching up and grabbing the back of his shirt before he could make it more than twenty feet down the hall. “Let me go first.”

“You don’t even know where we’re going,” Tim hissed. “Also be quieter! I’m not sure how good their hearing is, but it’s at least better than their eyesight!” 

Batman gave him a very disapproving look. In most instances that sort of look from his hero would be absolutely gutting and would have stopped him in his tracks. In this situation, it was still gutting, but he swallowed down the feelings of shame and chastisement because this was all for the best and Batman would soon understand it. “I’ll still go first, but you can direct me,” Batman finally said slowly. “But you will stay right behind me at all times. Unless we are attacked, in which case—”

“I’ll take cover in the passageways,” Tim offered. “There’s entrances all over the place, and I’ve found most of them by now.” 

“Alright. Let’s move.” Batman swept around Tim and crept down the hall, staying close to the wall. Tim easily copied his silent and stealthy movements. When they came to the first split in the hallway, Batman motioned for Tim to stop before peering around the corner. It must have been clear because he glanced back at Tim. “Which way is it from here?” 

Tim quietly gave him directions. They had a couple of close calls, but they managed not to be spotted, and before long they’d navigated to Tim’s destination. 

“Behold: the escape pod,” Tim whispered proudly as he gestured to a hatch in the wall. 

Batman crossed his arms and looked unconvinced as he glanced between Tim and the door they’d just entered through. “How do you know that’s an escape pod?” 

Tim scoffed. “I heard the aliens talking about it.”

“If they were talking about it in English, they very likely meant for you to overhear, it’s probably a trap—”

“It wasn’t in English, for escapes number seven through number eighteen, I had one of their translator helmet thingies that I managed to steal and get to reverse the function before they found it and took it back. Anyway, this was how they were planning on putting you back once you helped them defeat the Green Lantern Corps, so it's already programed with the right coordinates. All you’ve gotta do is get in and whoosh, you’re home free.”

Batman stared at him for a long moment before stepping over to inspect the hatch. Tim took the opportunity to press the button on the control panel and reveal the interior of the pod. 

It was small inside. Very small. And the life support systems were only guaranteed to support a single adult organism of a species with the level of needs as humans. 

Batman leaned down to peer inside before looking back at Tim. “Get in, then.”

Tim took a step back and took a deep breath. Sevenish hours of frantic escape plan editing was about to be tested. “I’m not… I’m not coming.”

Batman stiffened. “Of course you are.” 

Tim knew this part was going to be the most difficult task he’d ever pulled off, because Batman was a hero, and the heroes always rescued the innocent victims. For that reason, the Escape Plan: Addendum had included such items as ‘make Tim unlikable by being disobedient and mouthy, since no adult liked that in a child’. If Batman didn’t like Tim, he’d feel less guilty about it afterwards. But being unlikable wasn’t enough on its own to disqualify him from superhero saving, so it also included his ace in the hole: making himself a threat. 

“The escape pod can only hold one person. If we both try to use it, we’re going to run out of oxygen and water,” he explained calmly. “You are clearly far more important to get back to Earth, so it’s only logical that you be the one to go. For the sake of humanity, I must insist.” 

“I am not leaving a child alone on an alien spaceship,” Batman growled out. “If this escape plan of yours doesn’t allow for us to leave together, then it’s a nonstarter.”

Tim knew he’d say that. Oh, he’d hoped Batman would see his very clear logic so they could avoid this unpleasantness, but still. Tim had known he’d say that. Because Batman was a hero, and therefore irritatingly heroic. Even when the person in question was Tim. 

Because this wasn’t even a question to him. Even if Tim couldn’t figure out some other way to get back to Earth, the loss of Tim would be felt by up to three people, maybe. The loss of Bruce Wayne would be felt by dozens—Dick Grayson and Jason Todd and Alfred Pennyworth and Barbara Gordan and the Commissioner and everyone who worked at Wayne Enterprises and the entire city of Gotham that had come to rely on his freely charitable nature, not to mention the loss of Batman which would surely be felt all around the world the next time the Justice League was needed. This was Tim’s chance to do something for the good of the world, and if it meant letting his favorite hero think of him as a villain, then so be it. 

“If you do not get in the escape pod and leave right now, then I will get in it, go back to Earth, and use the Gotham Academy student email list to send photographic evidence to our entire school showing that Jason Todd is Robin.” 

Chapter Text

Bruce stared at Timothy Drake, his mind reeling in horror as his chest was seized with a primal, protective fury—he was threatening Jason. He knew about Jason. A threat to his son needed to be contained, but the threat was also a minor and the Justice League didn’t condone the imprisonment of minors, so perhaps a memory wipe, and a thorough search through his belongings to discover whatever ‘evidence’ he thought he had, and—

—Timothy’s hands were trembling. 

Bruce blinked several times (it was alright to do that when his eyes were hidden by lenses and wouldn’t give any weakness away) as he forced down the flurry of emotions and took a moment to reassess. Tim was glaring up at him, shoulders tight, chin locked in determination, eyes made of ice and steel, but his hands were clenched into tiny fists and they were trembling. He was putting on a very convincing mask, but he was still just a child. One who was trapped in what must seem like a daunting and impossible situation, and he was scared. He thought there was only one way off the alien ship, and that it would only be able to be used by one of them, and in a foolishly heroic gambit, he’d tried to threaten and enrage Bruce into leaving while sacrificing himself to the mercy of the creatures who’d kidnapped him. Because he somehow had decided that Batman was the one who needed to get home, and not the stolen child. 

The anger in his chest melted away, and Bruce couldn’t resist a small, fond smile. Foolish little martyr, this Timothy Drake was… Someone should really be keeping an eye on that. 

“Well?” Tim snapped out when the silence had stretched on for a few beats too long. “Go on! What are you waiting for?” 

“Another solution,” Bruce said firmly, shaking himself out of his contemplation of the child before him and turning his attention back towards the immediate situation. He took a step towards Tim, and the boy’s eyes grew wide with panic before squeezing shut and flinching back, clearly expecting Bruce to strike him. Bruce pressed his lips into a flat line as he thought about what might have given him that reaction before leaning down and scooping Tim up in his arms. 

“Wha—” Tim tensed up before starting to wriggle around, trying to break free. Bruce quickly shifted him so he was settled comfortably against his hip before turning and sweeping out of the room, not sparing another glance at the escape pod. 

“Hey! Wait! No, put me down—you’re supposed to be escaping! I’m trying to save you!” Tim sputtered, still struggling in Bruce’s arms. In most circumstances Bruce would honor his request and release him since he clearly didn’t want to be carried, but he also didn’t trust the boy not to dart off and disappear into one of the cramped wall tunnel spaces and refuse to come out. He already had enough trauma from that time a young Dick had convinced Bruce to take him to that awful mouse themed pizza restaurant and then hidden himself in the sky tubes for over an hour when it was time to leave; no reason to compound his trauma by reliving the scenario with a different child on a hostile alien spaceship. 

It was easy enough to retrace their steps and return to the ‘cell’ they’d been placed in—if there was a secret escape hatch built into it, Bruce had a hard time believing it was actually built to hold prisoners. But he’d already started to suspect that these alien abductors were less than competent. Still, as a room where they’d have some level of privacy and only one known entrance point for hostiles, it was the best place he knew of where they could hole up, with the added bonus of convincing their captors that he was cooperating rather than awaiting recovery. Once they were inside, Bruce set Tim back down and then glanced back at the door. 

“Can we close it from the inside so they don’t know we left?”

Tim scowled up at him but nodded. He took a step towards the door, but Bruce put out an arm to stop him. “Just tell me how and I’ll do it,” he said warningly. Tim huffed, but compiled. Once the door was securely shut behind him, Bruce strode over to where Tim’s secret hatch was and sat down so that he was sitting directly in front of it. 

It was all he could do not to smirk at how offended Tim looked. He allowed himself a small chuckle before he turned his attention to his utility belt. First, he pulled out a small metal tube that was… not unlike a dog whistle. His comms weren’t working, likely due to the distance from Earth, but that didn’t mean he was unable to get out a signal. He blew into the tube, using short and long puffs of air to create the pattern for ‘S.O.S.’ in morse code. It didn’t make a sound audible to either his or Tim’s ears, but they weren’t the intended recipients of the message. Once finished, he set it aside and set a timer on his watch to let him know when fifteen minutes had elapsed so he could do it again. Then, after sparing a glance at the empty and completely dry water bottles shoved behind Timothy’s backpack, he reached into another pocket and pulled out one of his emergency hydration pouches (that were not called the BatJuice Boxes, thank you very much, Dick). “Drink this,” he ordered, holding it out to Tim. 

Tim hadn’t budged an inch from where he stood over by the doorway. At Bruce’s words he startled, but instead of coming closer, he took a step back. “I don’t understand.” 

“You’re likely dehydrated. Even if your captors have been giving you water, I’m sure it’s not as much as you need, and it looks like you ran out of your own supply.” When Tim still didn’t make a move towards him, Bruce glanced at the label and added, “it’s apple flavored.”

Slowly, Tim took a step towards him, and then another. Bruce stayed as still as possible, keeping his posture relaxed and inviting. When Tim was standing directly in front of him, he hesitantly took the drink pouch from Bruce’s hand, carefully watching Bruce’s face the whole time. Bruce gave him an encouraging nod, and finally, the boy looked away long enough to figure out how to insert the straw so he could take a drink. 

Once he’d taken a good long sip, Bruce patted the space on the floor next to him. “Come sit,” he said, pitching the tone somewhere between a request and an order. “Help should be on its way, but there’s no telling how far out we are, so it might be awhile.”

Tim’s eyes grew round with shock. “Help?”

Bruce nodded. “Of course. What, did you think this was the first time a rogue band of alien insurrectionists has tried to kidnap a member of the Justice League in order to weaponize them for their own battles? We do have protocols for this. Something I could have told you earlier, had you not insisted on running off.”

“So my whole plan was for nothing,” Tim said miserably as he stepped next to Bruce and slumped against the wall, sliding down into a pitiful heap beside his backpack… Bruce should have realized what was up with the little ‘escape plan’ when Tim had run off without his things including the clearly beloved camera, but he would try to forgive himself for the oversight because he’d just had the child he was trying to protect disappear into the walls and he felt that was understandably distressing.  

“I certainly would have listened to your ideas, had you sat still long enough to explain them,” Bruce offered. “Again, I have no clue how long the rescue party will take; while we’re currently in a somewhat defensible position, this is not ideal. If the escape pod had been able to accommodate us both and gotten us away from our captors right now, I’d have gone with that.”

“Still. Can’t believe how stupid I was. Blew up my secret cover for nothing,” he muttered. 

“Take another drink,” Bruce reminded him gently when Tim seemed to get too caught up in glaring angrily at his backpack. After the kid had mechanically raised the straw to his lips and taken another long sip from the pouch, Bruce cleared his throat. “So you’ve learned Robin’s identity. Do you—”

“Know yours as well? Yeah. Sorry, Mr. Wayne…” Tim let out a long sigh. “I’ve never told anyone and I never will, I promise,” he said, looking up at Bruce earnestly. “I was just bluffing earlier. I don’t even have physical evidence that links him to Robin—not conclusively, anyway.” 

“I believe you. But can you explain to me how you figured us out? Was it something to do with us living next door?” 

Tim looked down at his feet. “It was… actually Nightwing who clued me in, but back when he was still Robin…” What followed began as an impressive but relatively tame account of how Tim had been able to connect Dick’s unique move set from the circus to the first Robin’s acrobatic style as observed on a news program, but quickly devolved into another near panic for Bruce when he started to detail how he’d snuck out into the streets of Gotham at night at age nine to follow him and Dick on patrol in order to obtain definite proof. The feeling of urgency only grew when Bruce tried to get him to say how many times he’d done that, and Tim kept refusing to put a number on it until finally he’d admitted that it had never really stopped. Instead, it morphed into a regular habit so he could hone his night photography and action shoot skills. 

When he finally finished, Bruce was unable to keep from burying his face in his hands and groaning. Someone really did need to keep an eye on this kid… 

Another question jolted into his mind, and even though Tim’s energy was clearly starting to flag and his eyes were fluttering closed (because who knew how well he’d been sleeping, all alone in a potentially hostile environment), the sense of urgency that flooded him compelled him to ask. “Tim, why didn’t I know that you’d gone missing? You’re my neighbor, I should have heard.” 

“My parents are on a dig,” Tim said around a yawn. “I’m sure they haven’t noticed. And if help is really on the way, I’m sure they never will. It’ll be fine.”

“Even so, surely your nanny would have contacted the police by now,” Bruce pressed—because even the most inattentive of caretakers, who somehow let their charge repeatedly slip out of the house several nights a week to chase after vigilantes, would have noticed when the child they were supposed to be watching over was absent for nearly a week. 

“What nanny?” Tim muttered before his eyes finally slipped closed. 

Bruce only hesitated a moment before reaching an arm out and drawing Timothy in to lean against his side. When the child nestled in closer, something small and warm flared up in Bruce’s chest even as he tried to sort out his mounting horror at the gross negligence that had been happening next door to his property for who knows how long. 

Somebody needed to keep an eye on Tim Drake… and he was able to quietly admit to himself that if that somebody turned out to be him, he wouldn’t mind in the least. 

When Tim started to slip back into consciousness, it was very slow and with much reluctance. For one thing, he was warm. Warmer than he’d been in days. The ship was always a bit on the chilly side, never enough for him to be freezing but definitely enough to keep him uncomfortable. He also felt safe, for some reason, even though as far as he knew he was supposed to be a prisoner slash accidentally acquired insurance measure for the aliens to keep Batman compliant… 

The warm and safe feelings trying to pull him back to sleep were tempting to give in to, but eventually, several low, adult, human voices filtered into his consciousness and grabbed his attention. 

“That had better be the last time this happens, Lantern.” This voice was accompanied by a pleasant rumbling from within whatever firm surface Tim was pressed against. 

“I mean, this one wasn’t entirely on me.” 

“You’ve convinced half the galaxy that I’m some sort of demonic creature scarier than Parallax, and now I keep getting picked up to fight in alien wars! How is this not on you?”

“Well I’m just saying—Protocol would have you contact me before touching the unidentified extraterrestrial object that fell out of the sky right next to you. So it's at least a little bit your fault, too.” 

“At least these guys didn’t get very far—chasing you down on that ice moon was a pain,” a third voice cut in. This one was smooth and calming, as if trying to pacify his arguing companions. “And hey—B found a kid, so it isn’t all bad.” 

“Um. Right. About that—I know you’ve latched onto him, and I get that, what with the hostage situation and the guilt about him falling into a trap meant for you, but Lantern protocol says that I need to take him into protective custody until I can return him to his legal guardians and—stop looking at me like that! This! This is why everyone thinks you’re so fucking terrifying, man—Kal, do you see the look he’s giving me? It’s completely uncalled for!” 

Tim finally started processing enough of the conversation to be curious about why it was happening and who all was talking and also where he was because he was pretty sure one of them was Batman and Batman shouldn’t sound so relaxed if they were still prisoners. He forced his eyes open, but—it didn’t work? Or, no—his face was pressed up against Batman’s black armor. He pulled his head back and blinked several times while looking around. He was pulled up into Batman’s side, with one of the hero’s arms as well as his thick cape wrapped around his shoulders. They were now sitting on a comfortable bench in a completely different spaceship from the one Tim had fallen asleep in. 

Also, Green Lantern was there. And was that Superman sitting in the pilot seat? 

“You’re trying to steal a kid from Batman,” the person who was indeed Superman said with a smile in his voice. “You’ll get no help from me.” 

“Tim. You’re awake.” Batman was smiling down at him—no wait, his cowl was down. This was Bruce. Mr. Wayne was smiling at him. “How are you feeling?” 

“Uh… fine?” He stammered out, looking around some more and trying to make sense of the situation. “What happened? Did we escape?” 

Mr. Wayne nodded. “Green Lantern and Superman were already close when I sent out the distress call. We were extracted from the hostile vessel about an hour after you fell asleep. Luckily, the ship those aliens had stolen was a slow moving research vessel and they hadn’t made it far at all, so we should be back to the Watchtower in about forty five minutes.” 

“Huh.” Well. This was good. This was not his plan, but this was still good. Being rescued by the Justice League and getting to see their headquarters was an unanticipated but very welcome twist of fate—he’d never wanted to stay behind with the aliens, after all. But he should probably stop using Batman as a pillow, he had to be getting tired of taking care of Tim by now. He tried to scoot away, but Batman’s arm remained firmly wrapped around his shoulders even as he moved over into the seat next to him.

“Why don’t you try to get some more rest,” Mr. Wayne suggested, giving him another gentle smile. He looked so nice like this, not scary at all. Green Lantern really didn’t know what he was talking about… “You still look tired.” 

Tim shook his head, denying it even as a traitorous yawn escaped his lips. “I slept enough,” he insisted, looking around again. His eyes settled on Green Lantern and he frowned. “Also, you don’t need to take me all the way to my parents. They’d hate that. You can just drop me off anywhere in Gotham, I can figure it out from there.” 

“You’ll be staying with my family at Wayne Manor,” Batman spoke at the same time as Green Lantern, who shook his head and said, 

“I have to make sure you get home safe and tell whoever is responsible for you what’s happened—“

“I’m what?” Tim asked, looking up at Mr. Wayne and furrowing his brow. 

The arm around his shoulders squeezed Tim tight for a moment in what could almost be called a hug. “Staying with me,” he reiterated. “You shouldn’t be left alone after something like this; you’re going to need to be watched carefully for the next several days to make sure you’re recovering. And his parents are out of the country right now, they won’t be back by the time you need to go off planet again,” Mr. Wayne said, turning to Green Lantern. “And as they’re the whole reason no one heard about Tim getting abducted in the first place, if you insist on returning him to their custody, I’m going to file a complaint with the Lantern Corps.” 

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Green Lantern muttered. “Fine. As long as you somehow make it legal with Earth laws for you to keep him within the next few days, I’ll let it slide. Just this once, though, and only because he’s from Gotham. Next time you find a random kid in space, you’re not keeping them.” 

“Hm.” Mr. Wayne didn’t say anything to that, just turned back to Tim. “Are you alright with that? Staying with me, that is?” he asked, looking down at him with a trace of a smile on his face. Tim blinked up at him slowly, still having trouble adjusting to the concept. Bruce Wayne, Batman, wanted Tim to stay in his house?

“I think Robin would like to have you there as well,” he added when Tim didn’t respond. “It could be good for him. He’s spent most of the summer holed up in the library or playing video games, it’d be nice for him to have someone close to his age around to play with.”

“I think when they’re teenagers, they prefer the term ‘hang out’,” Superman said from the front of the ship.

“He’s not a teenager until August; stop making me feel old,” Mr. Wayne said. “But anyway, Tim, what do you say?”

“You want me to come over to your house and hang out with Robin?”  

“I do,” he said with a shrug. 

“Um. Yes!” Tim said, nodding frantically. Being rescued by Batman was one thing, but getting to hang out with Robin was an entirely different level of cool! He was honestly still baffled by the fact that Batman was being so nice to him even after he revealed that he knew their identities (by threatening to unmask Robin, no less). But nothing had seemed to indicate that Mr. Wayne was mad about that so far. After all, when you were mad at someone you didn’t usually give them apple juice and let them fall asleep on you. Batman really was the coolest superhero. 

As the adults started up another conversation about filling out debrief paperwork (superheroes gave themselves homework? Lame), Tim idly glanced around the ship some more, taking it all in and letting the feelings of security and relief wash over him. It had been interesting being abducted by aliens, but also scary, especially when he’d thought that he’d have to stay behind to set Batman free. Honestly, being rescued like this was the best possible outcome, one he hadn’t dared to let himself hope for while onboard the alien ship. And he’d get to meet Robin once they got back to Earth, and presumably they were going to have a sleepover. Possibly more than one night? Mr. Wayne hadn’t been clear on how long Tim would be staying. 

Well, he was sure they’d send him back to Drake Manor sooner or later, and until then, he’d definitely make the most of whatever time they were willing to spend with him. It’s not like they’d want to keep him forever, right? 

(He was wrong)