Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Silences aren’t usually good, despite the connotation that they come with. For Dick, they were usually the calm before the storm, or the falling action of something horrible. 

He worked better when he completely expected to jump to his feet. The noons in Gotham make him want to jump to his feet, that is why he is good at his job. The dragging school days make him want to jump to his feet, but not in a good way; in the way that he wants to jump, but he can not because he is in school, as a normal civilian, who should be able to control his hyperactive body. Running around with his team as Robin makes him soar. Being in the lounge with the rest of his team, doing nothing— not so much. 

Routine is the way of heroes: this is what Dick has learned during his tenure as a cape. Whenever things were out of place within a routine, it almost always meant that something was wrong. He supposes that the fact that everything was going in routine up to the climatic moment of chaos… only added more shock factor into it.

He pressed against the counter, the tension keeping him awake. The team and himself are doing absolutely nothing, which only makes Dick’s eyes more likely to droop. His body has become adjusted to night and daytime hero life but, as a plunking reminder of how human he is, his body still feels heavy from the back to back work. 

While his teammates found their spots to relax, his internal mask remained half off. (His friends will say it’s a flaw, and that he needs help, something so that he can be able to fully relax again but, in the end, was it not this tension in his body that allowed him to be able to push Artemis out of the bullet’s path fast enough that she still breathes with us today?) 

In seconds’ time, the silence that his teammates sat in comfort with turned into tension; the type of tension that was warm under one’s skin— fight or flight tension. The intruder alarm, a loud siren accompanied with a robotic voice, only made Dick’s heart beat faster. 

Dick, admittedly, doesn’t know what the rest of the team was doing because his eyes were glued on the intruder. A bulky man— tall and muscular— stood at the center of the lounge. Dick isn’t sure where exactly to begin describing him. A standard gun was in his hand, obviously the one where the bullet that almost hit Artemis came from, but it was obvious the man had more weapons on his person. He was completely covered, from the tan military style pants to the jacket that was left unzipped, to the shiny red helmet that was only the second most noticeable thing to Dick. The first: a red bat logo printed on the intruder’s chest. 

Dick could not begin to question anything (Who was this man? What was he doing here? Why is a gun and the bat symbol on the same person ?) because his thoughts can and should only be of the ways to take the threat down. Artemis was next to him, regaining her composure. (Right, she hasn’t been doing this as long as everyone else.) He doesn’t need to know what’s going on with everyone else right now. He just needs to focus on disarming the intruder. 

A minute after the shot was fired, 53 seconds after the alarm rang, Dick rushed at the intruder.

The man, who was unmoving up until this point, seems to snap out of whatever daze he’s in because of Dick’s movement. “What the- WOAH!” 

The intruder drops his gun before Dick even reaches him, and blocks the incoming staff. The intruder scoffs, the nerve. “Replacements replacement got replaced?”

Dick doesn’t have time to let confusion settle in, but before he can make his next move, Kaldur’s voice rings in his head. M’gann. 

(“Fall back, Robin.”

“What? He’s armed and dangerous.”

“He purposefully dropped his weapon. Maybe we can solve this without fighting.”

“What if he’s playing mind games to get us to drop our guard?” 

“Why would he shoot then try to mess with us?” 

“We don’t have the time for this. Kaldur, I hope you know what you’re doing.”) 

Dick—Robin— does as told. He carefully backs away from the intruder and joins his team on the other side of the room. 

Kaldur is the first to actually speak. “Who are you?”

“That’s what I’d li’ta know,” the distorted voice speaks. Dick can’t see his eyes through the blacked out helmet, but years of training tell him the intruder’s staring right at him. “You’re not a new Robin, are you? ‘Cause I would’a known by now. I mean, it’s not really my business anymore what the birds be doing but you’d think they’d have some decency to tell me when there’s new wings in the flock.”

…What?

(“‘A new Robin?’”

“There’s multiple?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’m the only one.”)

Wally speaks for everyone. “What are you talking about? You appeared to us with a gun . Who are you?” 

“‘Who are you?’ this, ‘who are you’ that. Lemme ask a new question. Where the fuck am I?” His aggression peaked, as well as Dick’s instinctual need to fight.

(“Potty Mouth.”

“He’s messing with us, right? We shouldn’t tell him?”

“Yes, no one say a thing of our location. He may have recorders on his person.”)

At the lack of response, the intruder gets agitated, which screams danger despite the fact that he’s ‘unarmed’. “Look, kids, maybe we got off on the wrong foot here. I was in Gotham like two seconds ago. Doing really fucking important shit. I got a whole team to report back to, like, yesterday. So just tell me where the hell I am, and I’ll get out your hair. Deal?”

(“What the heck, guys.”

“How could he have gotten here from Gotham?”

“Maybe he hacked a zeta.”)

“No deal,” Dick says sternly. 

Dick can't tell, but he’s sure the man gave him the glare of a lifetime. “Where the hell are the adults?”

“Right here.” Black Canary says, drawing everyone’s attention to the newly arrived members of the Justice League. Amazing timing. Dick can’t even be mad that this means the entire Justice League has access to their alarms. Or at least one of them did and called in some others as reinforcements. Of course, Superman, The Flash, Wonder Woman, Black Canary, and Batman were ample fighters. 

The man in the helmet doesn’t turn to face the League at first. Instead, he spoke facing the Team. “Why do I have this strange feeling that this Justice League is gon’ be ten times more annoying than it’s mini’s?” 

His shoulders slump dramatically as he finally turns to face the League. Dick watches Batman’s face turn into a frown once he spots the Bat logo. 

“Who are you,” Batman asks, obviously unimpressed by the man’s theft of the Bat logo.

The man all but sighs. His body language changes drastically. The aggression is gone, which makes his movements harder to read. “Someone who’s not where they’re supposed to be,” the intruder mumbles.

“Well, I coulda told you that,” Wally says out-loud because honestly . 

The man groans. “I’m being serious. you might have a big space-time continuum fuck-up on your hands”

This pulls the interest of the League. Wonder Woman, who as always, stood at the center of the League, addressed the man with tame command. “Explain.”

The audacity of this man to plop himself on their couch after shooting at them. “Ok so boom, I'm on a mission to take down this new drug lord that fucked up and took his business into Gotham. He was specifically marketing his drugs to young people, and we just can’t have that, right? So I ‘ask’ around and find out about a new shipment coming in tonight. Obviously, I'm gon’ to take ‘em down ‘cause there’s already enough drugs on the streets of Gotham but I had already made sure all the dealers stay away from the minors, especially from the ones in the Narrows. So I didn’t need a newbie messing up my hard work. And guess what? He went and messed up my hard work; setting his base right in the heart of Crime Alley. Obviously, ‘found the base, beat up some bad guys, and the big boss shows up. I wasn't expecting to find him on the first night. But the weirder thing is—“

“ Wait wait wait. You’re talking a whole lot but literally none of what you’ve said explained anything. How—“

“I was just getting to that, Boy Wonder .” Dick visibly grimaces at the name. “As I was saying, the weird thing is this man showed up with a jack-in-a-box. Of all things? A clown?” His voice lowers. Any Gotham resident could take a guess as to why. “So now, I'm agitated. I pull out my gun,” for emphasis, he makes the hand sign for ‘gun’, “and as I fire, the jack comes out the box, and a light flashes. ‘Lemme tell you, that was the brightest light I’ve ever seen; ‘had to close my eyes even with this helmet on.” He taps his helmet, the only sound in the room after he finished talking.

“Okay… that still tells us nothing.” 

Intruder-man turns his head to Wally’s direction, and shakes his head. “Forgot how slow you used to be.” He addresses the entire room again,reilihiterating, “ A light flashed and now I'm here. This y’all’s first time?” He puts his hand on his chest. “I’m not an intruder. Just majorly displaced.”

“I don’t know any vigilante in Gotham that matches your description,” Batman breaks the silence for everyone else. “In fact, there is no other vigilante in Gotham besides myself and Robin.”

“That’s what I mean by majorly displaced,” The intruder says. “I don’t think this is my world.”

“Ex-“

“-plain. Yeah, yeah. Well for one, everyone knows who I am in my world. So, of course, the other explanation is your memories have all been erased but that doesn’t really add up so it’s crossed out. Two, Mount Justice doesn’t exist anymore where I’m from.”

Kaldur narrows his eyes. “We didn’t tell you we were in Mount Justice.”

“Yeah, I figured it out, no thanks to you.” He gets up from the couch. “No Mount Justice means that this could easily be time travel, but some of your kid-heroes don’t match with the heroes of my world. I come from the year 20XX, I’m guessing that’s far off here.”

20XX?!

“It’s 2011…”

Silence falls upon the heroes again before Superman speaks. “You could be lying, making bizarre statements so we could believe you.”

The …intruder sighs. He reaches into his pockets— which, like everything else he’s done, sets the room on edge. He takes out a hunter's knife, tied cleanly in a cloth. 

He drops it on the ground. 

In another pocket, he takes out smaller, sealed, blades. Three. Five. Nine. 

Drop. Drop. Drop.

He reaches into all his pockets, pulls out what seems like an entire armory on his person. Guns. One. Two. Three. Five……

Ammo. Bullets. Explosives , and—

(“IS THAT KRYPTONITE…?!”)

Dick doesn’t even have the time to process the fact that this unknown person had access to kryptonite. The man speaks with his hands above his head, his helmet still on. “Look, if i wanted you all dead, you would’ve been dead by now. I need you alive so I can get back home. I’m not gon’ lie and say I’m 100% a hero or even a good person, but I’m not your enemy. I… need your help.”

The Justice League seem to speak with their eyes. “We won’t let you leave freely,” Batman says.

“I’m not asking you to.”

“Is this all the weapons you have?”

The intruder nods. Dick’s not sure he’s telling the truth.

“You’re going to let The Martian Manhunter read your mind to confirm your past.”

“Oh, bad idea.”

“Why is that?”

“On the slim chance I am from the future… Do you really want the spoilers?”

“He’s right,” Flash agrees, “we can’t mess up this era more than it’s already been by his possible travel here.”

The man lets out an exaggerated gasp. “Wow, you’re a lot smarter here.”

Superman grabs him by the arm. An unappreciated gesture, from the man’s side. He tries to smack Superman’s hand away but Superman keeps a firm grasp on him. “We’ll take you back to League Headquarters.”

(“WHAT.”)

Conner steps up.“Hey, he dropped in on us. He should be our responsibility.”

“Hardly. We have no idea how dangerous he could be,” Supermanargues.

“Exactly, so taking him to the Justice League headquarters is a terrible idea,” Dick says. 

Canary sighs. “If we leave him here, you all must be on top alert all the time.”

The Team looks at each other then nods. “We can handle it,” Kaldur tells them.

Batman turns to the man, who they still don’t have a name for. “We’ll need the helmet.”

Intruder scoffs. “Hard pass.”

“And why’s that.”

“My helmet is lined with explosives. One wrong touch from the wrong person and…” He imitates an explosion with his hand. This creates an air of tension between them. Walking around with a bomb attached to your head is… yeah. 

“Why would you put yourself in such danger?!” Wonder Woman asks in distinguished concern. What’s even more concerning is the man’s lack of tact about it. 

“Secret identities are important,” he says with a shrug. 

Dick must admit, the idea of someone head wrapped in explosives leaves him with a foul taste in his mouth. But even he couldn’t stop himself from looking at Batman after the man’s words. He’s sure B has said the exact same thing at some point. 

“You can't deactivate it?”

“Mmmm… no.”

A silence falls upon them again. This time, slightly more dreadful. Nobody asks the questions everyone’s thinking. Did he put those explosives there himself? Or is it the action of some other insane person? Dick’s not sure which one is worse.

“Helmet stays, but we take the rest,” Flash offers.

“Cool with me.”

Each member of the League takes a handful of Intruder-Man’s weapons. They’re especially careful with the slightly worrying pile of kryptonite. Once all the weapons were gathered, the League headed for the zeta. Batman was the last person to leave. His eyes meet that of Robin and Dick doesn’t need to read his mind to understand him. 

Be careful .

When was he not? 

Once the entire league is gone, they return to silence. Awkward silence, unarguably the worst kind. 

“So…” Wally drawls. 

The man cocks his head back. “Hm,” he puts a hand on his hip. Assumingly after looking over them, he chuckles.

“What?” Dick questions out loud.

“Nothing, I just never realized y’all used to be this short.”

“Is that so?” Kaldur responds.

 “Mhmm. Except maybe…” he points between Kaldur, M’gann, and Artemis. “I’ve never worked with you three before.”

Artemis doesn’t take his attention well. “You almost… You almost fucking shot me.” She walks up until she’s standing in front of him. “Don’t think you get an ‘out’ just ‘cause you’re a time-traveling dimension traveler or something. You’re dangerous… Stay away from me.”

She leaves, obviously distraught about the whole thing. M’gann goes after her and Connor follows. 

“This is why Batman doesn’t work with guns,” Dick mutters. 

“Untrue,” the man points out.  “We both know the reason Batman doesn’t work with guns.” 

Dick’s whole body goes tense. What… is he alluding to? He eyes him warily. What are the chances that this stranger knows Batman’s identity as well as his past? His eyes catch the red bat centered on his chest again. Way too high.  

He lowered his voice, but Dick’s sure Wally and Kaldur heard him. Whether they did or didn’t, neither of them commented. 

“I’ll set up the room, he’ll…” Kaldur stops mid-sentence. “Actually, it would be nice if you could give us your name, even if not civilian, so we can know what to call you moving on. I go by ‘Aqualad’.”

 Dick thinks he sees the man actually think about giving Kaldur his civilian ID. “Red Hood. You can call me that. ‘Aqualad’… I haven’t actually met you before. Nice to meet you.”

Red Hood. Red? Hood ? Red flag is more like it. 

Dick can’t hold back his questions anymore. The others wouldn’t have noticed it, because they’re not from Gotham, but Dick needs to acknowledge it. 

He waits until Kaldur leaves to even begin. Dick gives KF a look and Wally takes the hint, quickly following to help Kaldur.

 Dick turns to the man. “ Red Hood? As in the Joker? Just who are you?”

 Dick swears he can feel the man smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know, Dickie-bird.”

That made Dick’s brain freeze for a couple seconds. Then it restarted.  

“So you do know our civilian IDs.”

“You’ve just confirmed it, yeah.”

Well, fuck.

“So we’re friends? In your world?”

“… I wouldn’t say that.” 

Shit. 

Dick is literally going to get no sleep if he just accidentally gave his civilian ID to an enemy. An alternate reality enemy? Ugh, that’s even worse.

“Don’t stress. We already know each other.” 

“What—“

”Does that mean? I’ll explain later. Or maybe not…” He trails off as he looks around the place. “Do you guys have anything to eat? I’m  probably gonna be here ‘a while.”

Chapter Text

As a detective, it is Bruce’s job to ask questions and figure out the answers. It’s become a reactionary thing, at this point in his career. When he and the other members of the league got the notification— INTRUDER AT MOUNT JUSTICE —his brain was filled with questions, but the only way to find those answers was to go to the source. 

So he, along with the available members of the League do just that. They arrive at the scene mere minutes after the alarm. Now, Bruce wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He could deal with most things easily himself, after all he is Batman , but when they enter Mount Justice’s lounge, a helmeted stranger with a gun was, of course, not one of his predictions. 

“No deal,” ‘Robin’ says. Bruce really wished he had the first parts of this conversation before he entered. Denying a person with a gun rarely went well and Bruce was sure he taught him that.  

Based on body language though, the stranger, most likely male, seemed more annoyed than enraged. He groans, “Where the hell are the adults?!”

Did he come to Mount Justice expecting the Justice League? It would make more sense. The kids don’t have any known long-term enemies, angry enough to come attack them at their base. Unless of course, this person came here planning to attack the kids in order to get to their mentors?

“Right here.”

The helmeted man turns. Facing each other, Bruce is taken aback. His attire is mainly civilian— a brown leather jacket and military pants— but the parts that aren’t really stick out. Aside from the helmet, a red bat is printed in the middle of his chest. Is he just from Gotham, or did he come here specifically for Batman ?

Bruce’s face deepens into his ‘signature glare’, as some would say. “Who are you?” he demands. The man’s original answer was insufficient, so to say, but as he continues with his explanation, Bruce becomes unsure how to react. 

Another dimension where things are widely different than the one here, and also the year being randomly ahead. It’s not impossible, but it may not be true. Bruce, of course, has no trust for the man in front of him but —between the somewhat convincing interdimensional-time-travel claim and the bat signal they both wear on their chest— his hostility shifts. Even more so when the stranger gives up all his visible weapons. Bruce knows, however, that if there is any truth in the man’s words, there must be more weapons on him. The gesture is still received somewhat positively. 

They make a deal with the young league, allowing them to keep an eye on the man themselves. Bruce will not say he is fully comfortable with it, but if there’s one thing he’s learned since Dick and his friends formed this team, things only get worse when you deny them their reasonably earned trust. Even if showing them trust means leaving a man with bomb on his head in their care.

So the Justice League leave the unknown threat of a man at the hands of their children, and decide to have an adult meeting about the matter back at the Watchtower. 

“You all do realize that leaving that man there with the kids was probably the worst fucking idea any of us have ever had?” Hal is quick to say.

“Language, Lantern,” Clark says before adding, “but yes I don’t think it was one of our wisest choices,” 

Dinah sighs. “Well, there’s no taking it back now. We just have to trust they will be able to take care of themselves, should the time come.” 

“It’s not the kids I don’t trust,” Hal responds. 

Barry talks as he sits. “The man didn’t display necessarily hostile behavior. We don’t have reason to believe he isn’t telling the truth.” Bruce suspects Barry is so quick to accept the man purely because he’s time traveled before. 

“But we don’t know if he is either. I mean, we all saw that Kryptonite,” Hal argues. 

Bruce looks to the side, careful not to make the League aware of his own batch of Kryptonite he keeps handy in his belt. “If what he says is to be trusted, then it is possible he brought that from his world.”

Diana, as usual, considers all the information from both sides. “We’ll have to send more League members there to check in on them, and more often as well.”

“But not too much, or the team will feel that we don’t have faith in them,” Dinah adds.

Clark scoffs. “What's more important, their safety or our faith?”

Diana and Dinah look at him with a stern look. “Both,” they say at the same time. 

Dinah shakes her head. “I think we all need to remember that the kids are being trained to join an unkind world. We are their teachers, but we can not hold their hand through everything. We live in a world where anything can happen. Early exposure will help.”

Bruce can’t help but agree. 

“Tomorrow morning, I will personally give the intruder a line of deep questioning. We should determine whether or not he will be kept at Mount Justice, in the co-care of the kids, based on the results of that.” He suggests. 

“I will go with you,” Diana adds. “I understand why the intruder may not have wanted Martian to look into his mind but if he denies the lasso of truth, he may not be trustworthy.” Bruce nods– between Batman and Wonder Woman, the intruder will have little left to hide. 

The other members of the League seem to think the same thing.

First thing in the morning, then.

When Jason woke up that morning, he thought last night was his dream for a good two seconds until he became aware of the room around him. The twin sized bed he laid on, that could barely hold his big body, the blank walls. He had slept as Red Hood, helmet and all. It only made him more tense.

He laid still for many moments after waking up. There’s probably a camera in this room. Some mics too. He’d be surprised if there wasn’t. When he gets up, he lets out a dramatic yawn for whoever’s watching him.

Jason is feigning his unseriousness of the situation. Well, he guesses, only half of it. Is he completely stressed out about the fact that instead of taking down and capturing the men targeting his community with drugs, he ended up how many dimensions away with an unknown path home that could take who knows how long to develop and oh my god he might miss the baby shower — yes. But he’s choosing to look at positives right now, something Dick has been shoving down his throat for a while now. (“You need better coping mechanisms.” “Cope with this Dickface: Fuck off.”)

So, positive one, ignoring the prancing thoughts of going back home, this situation is actually really fuckin’ funny. Robin 2.0, meeting Robin-OG in his prime, before all the shit the world will throw at them? Opportunity like no other. Jason Todd meeting Dick Grayson in his most bright eyed, scrawny self? Extreme blackmail material. It’s a shame Jason never brings his phone with him on patrol. 

Positive two, he could look at this as a vacation. When’s the last time he had one of those? He heard some of the Bats are on their own kind of leave right now. Maybe the world is trying to tell him it’s his turn. This could be one of those… bendición enmascarada? The thought makes Jason laugh. When’s the last time he’s gotten blessed?

He gets up and enters the hallway. His clothes stick onto him, but he knows he won’t ask for a change until it’s offered, simply out of habit. They’ll eventually smell him. He just needs to keep himself alive until his people come get him. (Are they going to want him back? Shut up.)

The moment he walked into the main area, everyone looked at him. They see him as their possibly deadly enemy. It’s hilarious, really, seeing their guarded faces. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the older versions of them, all at once, especially not without his glock. 

Look at the positives. He thinks of all the ways he can drop the bombs of his world. Yeah, he knows he told the League to keep the Manhunter out of his head because of “Timeline Spoilers” but really… Look at the positives. 

There are a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd of young heroes– it's how Jason knows he didn’t just time travel. This team of sidekicks wasn’t the Titans, but something he considers a little lesser. Not only were there members he’s never heard of (a green alien, for one) and missing members (Donna and Kory were nowhere to be found, along with other crucial members), but they followed all the direct orders of the Justice League– something the Titans would never, ever, do. Sure, they seemed to have some sense of independence, but nowhere close to that of the Titans. 

Back to feigning tactless behavior, Jason puts on his best ‘Alfred’ voice, which was really just an old British accent. “Good morning, young ones. What are we having for breakfast on this fine day?”

He’s not sure if it’s humor or shock, but ‘Robin’ tries so hard to not laugh, he almost spits out his drink. Imitating Alfred was an old family tradition at this point, he guesses it’s the same here. The other teenage heroes weren’t as impressed as young-Dick. The Green Arrow chick just scowled while the others looked at him like he was the weirdest person in the room.

They’re still looking at him when he goes to the fridge. Jason doesn’t care, really. These were nowhere near the shame he felt when he got stared at by his family of his.

He goes for the cereal for no other reason other than that he was not cooking in these people’s kitchen. 

“I am curious about your home-world.” This -Aqualad approaches him. He seems to be the oldest of this team, and the most mature. “I know I shouldn’t ask, but I really do wonder.”

 Jason pours his milk. Carefully, he lifts his helmet enough so only his mouth-down is exposed, and tastes the cereal. It’s… Sweeeeet. “Ask away.” 

Everyone is looking at him strangely. And yeah, him eating some super sugary cereal with his bright ass helmet half-on was not the most normal sight in the world but still. Maybe it’s the inter-dimensional travel shit but he was hungry, and his sudden paranoia surrounding his secret identity in this world isn’t going to stop him from eating. Wally runs to his side of the room, suddenly next to him. “Wait, wouldn't your answers affect our timeline.”

Jason shrugs. “I’on’ really care. Plus this ‘a whole different dimension. What happened there might not even be a thing here.”

“Then what’s with what you said to the Justice League about ‘spoilers’?” Superboy asks. Jason wonders if this is Superman’s son or his clone. He’s going to take a guess and say the clone, Tim’s friend, Kon. Seeing as Kon is the ‘older’ one, he should be the Superboy of this timeline. 

Jason rolls his eyes. “Would you want J’onn all up in your head?”

“You know Uncle J’onn?” The girl version of Martian Manhunter questioned.

Uncle J’onn, huh. “I know everyone. MMH’s identity isn’t even that exciting. Anyway,” he’s almost done with his cereal. The food here has to be at least ten times better than his world. Well, the cereal is. He’s going to have to apologize to his world’s Golden Boy for how much he made fun of his cereal obsession. “The Justice League wanted a sneak peak into my dimension too. Those bastards. If they really wanted to make sure I was telling the truth they could’a just used Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Maybe-Kon says.

Aqualad frowns. “You shouldn’t insult the Justice League like that. It’s unbecoming, especially when they are as honorable as they are.”

Jason can only scoff. “Anything I say about them to you, I’d say to their face. In fact, I’m pretty sure I have. I was pissed as fuck when they took me off their ‘wanted’ list.”

Though all taken aback, most of them tried to keep their cool. Except for Wally, whose loud and sudden “WHAT?!” almost startled him. 

“Why were you wanted by the Justice League?”

“How does one even get taken off?”

Jason hides his smirk by latching his helmet back on. “First of all, the way I got on that list is a long story. I’ll bore you, really. But yeah, I was in the top 5 for a while. And secondly,” Jason chuckles and shakes his head. “B made them take me off that list.”

Dick’s shock doubles. “Batman?”

“Who else is B?”

“But… why?” 

The Justice League seems to have great timing here, because it’s then Batman, along with Wonder Woman and Black Canary decided to show up. Jason knows he’s wrong for thinking it’ll be news of how he’ll get home before any of them even open their mouths. 

“Team,” Black Canary says. “It’s time we take our guest here for questioning.”

Ah , he jinxed himself by telling the kids they could’ve lassoed him. It’s fine. He doesn’t have anything relevant to hide. 

Wally speeds up to the older League members. “But he was just about to tell us why his world’s Batman made their Justice League take him off the wanted list,” he complains.

The League members turn to Jason. He smiles, though they can’t see it. “You were on Justice League’s wanted list?” Canary looks at him, taken aback by the information.

“Why would Batman make us take you off?” Wonder Woman doubles on the question. “You’re usually more focused on Gotham’s rogues than our wanted list.”

 Jason is a Gotham rogue. Very obviously so. He keeps his mouth shut on that though. 

“Maybe he’s different in that world,” Canary decides.

They turn to B, and B addresses him. “Explain.”

They all wait for Jason’s response. Jason thought about his answer carefully. “Let’s just say, it was ‘bad for business’, to have your own ‘son’ on your team’s wanted list.”

He immediately frowns after he says that. When’s the last time he’s referred to himself that way? Whatever. Their faces were worth it. 

Wally gasped. “Son? Like son son?!” This kid’s really dramatic, ain’t he? Jason doesn’t even wanna ask what that was supposed to mean. Who knows what’s going on in teenage Wally’s mind. 

Wonder Woman is the first to challenge the allegations Jason just put out there. “That’s impossible. You’re not that far into the future,” 

Canary, however, smiles in amusement “Unless, Batman here has something to share with the class.”

“I don’t.” He grunts. “I have no biological children.” That was the icing on the cake.

Jason’s smile is back. “Oh, you guys are so easy to mess with. I can't believe it. You should’ve seen the look on your faces.”

Bruce, as expected, couldn’t take the joke. “Be serious.”

“Ok, ok,” Jason regains his composure. “I’m not his actual blood-son, thank God. But he did adopt me like he did Boy Wonder. Then, I became Boy Wonder.”

Artemis– was it? –burst out in a victory laugh. A little out of character, considering the fact she was just acting so cold and serious a couple seconds ago, but the victory seemed to outshine that. “Batman is your dad! I knew it, I knew it!”

Dick looked away, embarrassed. “I told you, it’s not like that,” 

Wally speeds up to Jason. “ You were Robin?”

“Don’t be so surprised. Me being the second Robin is one of the least interesting things about me.”

“Hold up,” his hyperness fades. It’s like he’s actually thinking. Strange.  “If you were Robin after our Robin, does that mean our Rob…”

Jason scoffed. “I fuckin’ wished. Nah, Goldie here didn’t die. Well… actually…” His pause disturbed the members of this world. Good. “Death isn’t the reason you stopped being Robin.” Jason hesitates. Should he tell his whole family’s business this way? “‘Think ya’ got fired… or you swore to never be Robin again. Either way,  I came into the picture a lil’ after.”

The tension in the air increases drastically after his words, the once playful atmosphere– mainly brought by Young-Wally’s curiosity –disappears. 

“Robin… swore to never be Robin again?” Lady Martian repeats slowly, septic.

“Must’ve been something,” Superboy mutters, low enough that it’s clear he wasn’t expecting anyone to hear.

“That doesn’t sound right. Doesn’t sound right at all.”

The attention focuses on Dick, whose face showed hurt– even with the domino. He only looks at Bruce, voice low.“Would you really just pick up a new Robin if I left?” 

Ah, shit. Did Jason just fast forward Dick and Bruce’s fight? That was definitely not what he had in mind when he said he would mess with them. He just hopes he didn’t get it wrong about this being a different dimension. 

Batman’s face remains emotionless. “We’ll talk about this later.” Typical. Bruce. Wayne. Won’t confront familial conflict in any world. Jason watches as Dick goes quiet and fades into the shadows. He lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head. “Universal constants.”

Wonder Woman looks his way.“What was that?”

Jason puts his bowl in the sink and shakes his head, turning his body away from them. “Nothing important, Double W, nothing important.” 

“Well, regardless of whether you were Robin in your world or not, we still have to question you,” Canary tells him before looking briefly at the Teen Titan wannabes. “We’ll be taking him.”

“Woah, woah, woah, woah ,” Jason objects along with the kids, though his body is still facing the sink. “‘Him’ is right here in front of you, and him doesn’t really like being talked about like a damn dog.”

Batman glares at what he probably sees as ‘aggression.’ “The questioning is standard procedure.” 

He turns and leans his back against the counter. Despite his relaxed body language, he loses his once fun tone. His voice is now cold, insulted. “ I dont give a fuck about your procedures. Maybe you can order these kids around but you can’t do that to me, yeah?” I’ve been through enough of that as Robin. “I don't wanna be here. You don't want me here. We’re at equal understanding, equal ground. Let’s keep it that way. I’m not your fuckin’ prisoner. I’m a damn interdimensional semi-ally. I can beat all your asses in less than 5 minutes and take my business somewhere else.” 

Jason thinks that maybe his anger would be a lot more visible without his helmet but he can’t– just can't take it off fully. Maybe he was taking the wrong approach to this. These people are not the people he has laughed, cried and hugged. They don't know him, and maybe they shouldn't.

Bruce speaks with the same voice he uses when he’s reasoning with criminals. “If you leave, you will have no way home.”

I don't have a way home now, asshole , Jason wants to say, If I leave, you won't get the answers you oh so love to have. But he keeps his mouth shut on that. He glares back at Batman, somewhat regretting his helmet right now. “You don’t want to know what’ll happen if you choose to see me as your enemy.”

He hears Artemis mutter, “Knew we shouldn’t trust him.”

“I'm not opposed to being questioned,” Jason tells them. “Just watch your mouths, no disrespect intended.”

Canary sighs and Wonder Woman frowns, everyone else keeps quiet– watching the scene unfold. The kids obviously weren’t as used to verbal confrontation as opposed to the physical fights they’ve learned to take head on. Canary speaks, “Just a warning in advance, we will have to use the Lasso of Truth.”

“Think I care?”

“Most people would.”

Jason keeps silent on his way to the interrogation room, reorganizing his thoughts. 

Jason isn’t most people. And maybe this is positive three, no one here knows who he is, or what he’s capable of. They look at him with unfiltered eyes. He has no complicated past with anyone in this room. No emotion is going to go into the decisions they make about him. That could be a gift as easily as it could be a curse. 

Chapter Text

There was a lot to unpack from the short period in time. Between when Batman, Wonder Woman and Black Canary arrived at the Team’s base of operations and by the time they reached the interrogation room with their most current problem, Bruce was able to come up with three possible theories on this man’s role in his universe— that is, if he actually is from another world. He was either A) a delusional sociopath obsessed with Batman enough to claim to be a former Robin, B) a criminal who Bruce, or whoever is Batman in that world, made some kind of negotiation with or C) he was actually a former Robin after Dick, but Bruce was very, very skeptical of that possibility.

It felt almost impossible to imagine a Robin that isn't Dick. The role and Dick Grayson was never meant to be mutually exclusive and Bruce can’t see a situation where he would take on another Robin. He supposes he has considered the possibility– as time goes on he does not expect Dick to remain Robin, but he was certain that wouldn’t mean he would replace Dick.

He can tell that the actions of Bruce’s counterpart angered Dick, and Bruce made a mental reminder to have a conversation with the young teen when they arrive back at the manor. But for now, it wouldn’t hurt to get the full answers of this man’s world’s current Batman and Robin situation, and with the help of Wonder Woman’s Lasso of Truth, there would be little room for any of the sociopathic lies most criminals had. Yes, Bruce believed this man had to be some sort of criminal. No one who carried that many lethal weapons worked completely on the side of good, he even said so himself. 

“Is everything you said back there true?” Bruce starts off the questioning as everyone gets settled in the room they selected to question the supposed traveler at. Of course, they could have chosen any room but here, far away from where Bruce predicted the teen hero team was, seemed like the best choice. Plus, it was soundproof. 

“What? About me being Robin?” the helmented stranger sits in the only seat in the room. Bruce and his colleagues remain standing for the questioning. “It’s as true as you want it to be, Brucie.”

A stranger knowing Batman’s civilian identity set off so many alarms in Bruce’s head, but he keeps a firm, calm facade. He guesses that the facade doesn’t delude the stranger, as he throws his head back as if he’s smirking real hard.

“You knowing my name proves nothing,” Bruce tells this to himself more than anything. “My counterpart could have had a security breach.”

The stranger shrugs. “Maybe. I guess we’ll find out now.” He nods to Diana, Wonder Woman, who unbuckles her magic lasso from her hip. 

“I suppose you know how this works,” Wonder Woman proposes to the traveler. 

“Very,” is all he says. 

“Then we shall begin right away.” With that, Wonder Woman throws the hoop of her lasso around the respondent. Tightening it, the lasso glows its famous gold. 

“Do you want to ask first?” Wonder Woman asks Bruce. He only nods, taking his position in front of the man. His first question: “What is your name?”

“I go by Red Hood, nowadays.” The newly dubbed Red Hood shifts confidently in his chair the moment Bruce reacts to that name. 

“Why?” is Bruce’s next question. He understands it’s not the best to react so visibly, but the connection of that name to the Joker is something that cannot be ignored.

“Wanted to piss you off. Well, my version of you anyway. Guess it works no matter what world I’m in.”

In his head, Bruce decides to put that fact in a box to deal with later. He instead chooses to focus on the way this ‘Red Hood’ dodged his original question. “No civilian ID?” Bruce asks.

The man doesn’t answer, silence fills the room. Bruce chooses to move on. 

“Were you Robin, truly? If so, what really happened to our Robin? How did you enter that role?”

“That's a lot of questions, Brucie. Might have to put you on a limit,” Red Hood jokes but answers anyway, “Everything I said in front of your mini’s was true. I was a Robin.”

“A?” Bruce repeats. “There are more?”

Red Hood laughs a soft laugh, one that seems meant for someone else. “Many,” he says. “Is that all?”

Of course it’s not. They didn’t even get to any of the truly important questions yet. Bruce was simply setting the stage for the young man to get comfortable enough to tell the truth. Sure, he had the Lasso of Truth around him, but it is still unbecoming and suspicious to attempt lying to Batman, Wonder Woman, and Black Canary. 

“How did you gain the position as a Robin?” Bruce emphasizes. 

The helmented man slumps back on the chair. He brings his voice to a lower, dangerous tone. 

“I killed Dick Grayson and stole his spot.”

Bruce had to stop himself from jumping on the man before he saw the Lasso glow, a key indicator that the person was telling a lie. The man broke into unbreathable laughter as the lasso tightened around him while Bruce’s heart beat at 100 beats/a second. 

“You shouldn’t joke about things like that,” Bruce says in a similar low tone that the man was using, though not as serious. 

“Ahhh,” Red Hood’s laugh dies down, “Your reactions are always worth it.”

“What’s the truth?”

He seems to contemplate on telling the truth before explaining, “When I was 13, you parked the Batmobile in Crime Alley. You don’t usually, but it was a special day. Long story short, I saw it, and I jacked three of your tires.”

“You… the Batmobile?!” Bruce doesn’t even try to hide his shock. Who tries to rob Batman? The boldness of that child.

“Yes, and I would've gotten the fourth tire and went 'bout my day, if you hadn’t shown up and caught me red handed.”

Behind him, Wonder Woman and Black Canary had burst into laughter. Bruce admits it’s quite funny. How many people have the nerve to try and steal from the Bat? Especially at only thirteen years old. Bruce allows a chuckle to leave him.

His laughter made Red Hood laugh. “Yeah, you laughed just like that when you caught me.”

“What happened after?” Black Canary asks, suddenly interested. 

“He followed me home like a freak. Found out ‘bout my situation, tried to get me some help. It didn’t turn out the way he wanted, so he ended up just taking me home. Trained me for a while, then I was Robin.” The way the helmented man talks, as if speaking of good times long ago, Bruce is certain there is more to their story than the beginning. It should be obvious, going from Robin to calling yourself Red Hood, something must have happened. Bruce curses himself for not being able to ask in that moment.

“Do you still work for Batman?” Black Canary asks.

It’s hard to tell the man's reaction to their questions due to the obnoxiously red helmet, so Bruce must focus on his body language. He crosses his arms, a sign of displeasure. “Nope, but I do work with him and the others sometimes.”

So, he's not a villain. At least, not enough for Bruce’s counterpart to send him to Arkham. “Others?” Bruce chooses to question.

“Other heroes, other anti-heroes. Some in Gotham-- mainly in Gotham.”

Wonder Woman raises a brow. “There’s other heroes in Gotham?” She doesn’t say ‘This world’s Batman would never allow it’ because it should be common sense to everyone in the room.

“Old Robins, mainly,” Red Hood clarifies and it makes sense.

“Like our current Robin?” Bruce asks.

“Sometimes.”

Bruce doesn’t ask what that's supposed to mean. He doesn’t get the chance to, because the man tells them, “Hey, this has been fun. Y’know, catchin’ up on my backstory and shit, but aren’t there more important questions you should be asking while the rope makes me tell the truth.”

“We were just getting to that,” Bruce tells him, and it’s true. His curiosity about the relationship between this man, Dick, and Bruce aside, he was planning on questioning this man’s story.  “When you arrived here, you told me and the league that you were trying to bust an operation before getting sent here. Was all of that true?”

“Yes,” the man simply says, the truth. 

“Can you go into deeper detail about what happened?”

He sighs, but answers. “I don’t know what else to say. It’s as I told ya. The dude played the jack-in-a-box, a light flashed– almost blinded me by the way –and then I was in the middle of your sidekicks’ living room.”

“Is there anything significant you can remember about the drug lord you were after?”

Red Hood shakes his head. “His name was Alvin ‘Rino’ Goretti. Came to Gotham from Canada, had a somewhat normal upbringing. Seemed like a regular asshole to me. Not someone I would expect to be able to send a person to a whole different dimension.”

The room is silent as Bruce thinks. It’s highly probable that the drug lord was only a part of a bigger scheme. There's a lot of questions that need to be asked in order to figure out the bigger answer. But as it stands, it doesn’t seem like the Red Hood has many answers to those questions. “I think that’s all,” Bruce says to Wonder Woman before directly addressing Red Hood. “If you remember anything else about this drug lord, or the events following how you got here, make sure to tell me. I have a feeling this is much bigger than the normal bust.”

Red Hood doesn’t say anything for a couple moments, just stares (at least, what Bruce thinks is staring). It’s awkward, with the helmet on he can’t possibly tell what the man is thinking. “So you’re gonna help me?” he finally asks.

Wonder Woman tries to look the man in his eyes, which is also hard due to the helmet. “Do you truly believe you come from another world?”

Red Hood faces Diana, and only Diana, as he says. “Completely. And I have a lot back in that world, so if you could help me get back, I’d, like, love you forever.” 

Bruce looks between Diana and Dinah. They both nod at him, affirming their support. 

“We’ll do everything in our power,” Bruce tells him. 

Diana removes the lasso from around the man, returning it to its spot on her hip. Facing Canary and Bruce, she tells them, “I’ll be leaving for the watchtower. You two must decide what to do with our new guest. If you need anything else, you know where to find me.” 

Dinah bids her goodbye while Bruce gives her a nod. Together, they reface the man.

“So?” Red Hood asks. “Are you going to be dragging me away or will I be staying here with the sides?”

“That’s all up to Black Canary,” Bruce informs him. They decided on it this morning. Though Bruce was talented in determining the threat of criminals, Dinah was equally equipped in determining the psychs. And since she spends more time training the Team, she was more equipped in determining if this man was a threat to them. 

“You will be staying here,” she decides. “This team will look after you. You seem safe enough to me.”

The man laughs. “Sure,” he says. 

Dinah nods at Bruce before also leaving the room, leaving it with only Bruce and the Red Hood. 

The man huffs. “Y’know, you’re a lot easier to talk to than my Bruce. More open.”

Bruce doesn’t really know what to make of that. So instead he offers Red Hood a sound of acknowledgement. “Hn.”

The man laughs again, and shakes his head. He gets up from his chair and walks over to Bruce. “So what now?”

“I’ll walk you back to the team. Dinah is probably waiting for us.” Bruce tells him and Red Hood nods in approval. Before they leave, Bruce asks his last question. It was less important, but he still felt the need to ask. “Did you sleep in that helmet?”

Based on Red Hood’s body language, Bruce can tell he's amused. “I already told you. Secret identities are important, Bruce.’”

“ There’s no way he used to be Robin.” Dick Grayson sits on the couch, immediately gets up, and starts walking back and forth around the room. He’s done this so many times, Wally’s almost labeled his hyperness to the level of a speedster. 

The Team have been listening to him rant ever since Wonder Woman, Black Canary, and Batman left to question the mystery man. No one’s been sure what to say, not even Wally, though the closest to him. “I mean, he uses guns– guns! Batman would never let Robin do that.”

Wally West hasn’t been a hero for a long time, compared to other people in the field, and his work barely ever has anything to do with detective work as much as it is just punching the bad guys in the face, but even he can tell when someone is in denial. 

And, boy, was his best friend on the verge of a mental collapse. Well, that’s being dramatic. It’s not like Dick is going crazy over the maybe new-but-older-Robin-from-another-dimension, but still. Wally has never seen the boy this overwhelmed. In his own terms, Rob was usually the most whelmed of them all! 

“I’m sure there’s a reason for it all,” Kaldur tries to tell him, but Dick isn’t having that.

“There’s something up with him,” Dick says. “It’s weird. How can he claim he didn’t intend on landing here when this is literally our headquarters? And he shot his gun!”

“That’s literally what I said since the beginning!” Artemis yells, obviously irritated after listening to Dick rant for what felt like hours. 

Y’know, it's kinda telling how Dick has only become suspicious of this man after learning his role of Robin was stolen by him. Wally doesn’t say that though. He supports his friend, sends looks to his teammates, and they support him too. 

M’gann puts a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Batman and Wonder Woman will figure it out,” she tells him with a genuine smile on her face. She was amazing like that.

“Yeah, who’s better at figuring things out than them?” Superboy adds. “Plus, Canary’s there.”

Dick sighs. He touches M’gann’s hand on his shoulder, and gives her a look of appreciation. “You guys are right. We just have to wait.”

And wait they do. But waiting brings tension, especially to young heroes used to doing anything but waiting. Artemis and Dick decide to spew their theories about the mystery man to each other, while everyone else does something to calm their nerves. M'gann goes to the kitchen, her favorite place nowadays, and Superboy makes sure to stay far away from where any food is being made. Kaldur gives Wally some company on the couch, flipping through channels. Nothing on seems as interesting as what’s going on in their own lives though. 

When Wonder Woman enters the living room, everyone else has joined Wally and Kaldur on the couch. They all jumped up when they saw her, anticipation bubbling in each of their stomachs. To be questioned under the lasso of Wonder Woman, the legitimacy of the man’s claims would be confirmed to be true or not now. No matter how anxious to hear what Wonder Woman would say they all are, Wally knows it probably doesn't compare to how Dick is feeling. After all, it was his identity being stolen. An identity he holds close to his heart. 

Wonder Woman sighs. As she speaks, Wally keeps half his attention on Dick. “The man told no lies,” she says, and Dick’s shoulder automatically slumped. Now, it’s Wally’s turn to sigh. 

“How is that possible?” Kaludr says, but he’s not completely referring to the Robin situation. “How is he from another dimension?”

“We will figure that out,” Wonder Woman tells them. “Canary and Batman will be out soon to tell you all what will happen from here. For now, put your trust in us, and offer this man some credence. He is a long way from home, and we must all do what we can to get him back.”

They all nod except for Dick, who looks away. When Wonder Woman leaves, Wally sits next to him. “Y’know, my uncle has told me a thing or two about other universes. What happens in one doesn’t always happen in others. Some things stay the same, some don’t. Maybe this is one of the ones that don’t.”

Dick laughs, but Wally knows it’s not genuine. “That’s really smart, Wally, but you don’t need to say that.  I’m fine.”  Sure, bud. “Just need to figure this out.” 

Wally sighs and slumps in his seat. His best friend being down is really bringing him down, so he needs Dick to get up again. 

A couple minutes later, Batman and Canary enter with the man. Batman speaks. “I’m sure Wonder Woman has given you a basic rundown.”

“She told us he was being truthful,” Kaldur informs him. 

“That’s correct.” he says. He puts his hand on the man’s shoulder. The man moves the smallest bit, a flinch, and Dick does the same. “He goes by Red Hood and he’s been ruled as a non-threat from another dimension.”

‘Red Hood’ scoffs, “that’s one way to put it.”

Batman makes a sound of acknowledgement before continuing. “Canary has given your Team the ‘ok’ to look after him.” Wally can only imagine Red Hood rolled his eyes. “That means making sure he is treated as a temporary guest unless given reason not to be.”

Dick finally decides to speak up. “Did he even tell you his name?” 

Batman doesn't seem to appreciate the boy’s tone because he squints his eyes at him. “He holds the same right to a secret identity as the rest of us.”

Dick swallows but says nothing.

Batman takes his hand off Red Hood and moves for the zeta. “Canary’s staying for training,” he tells them, “But I’ll be back for missions and a check-in.”

“Wait!” Dick catches up to Batman before he can be beamed away. They exchange words Wally can’t quite hear, but it ends with such a sad look on Dick’s face. Wally wishes he could comfort him, but the boy leaves for the workout room before anyone can get a sentence out. 

Canary sighs. “You all take care of our Red Hood here. I’ll take care of Robin,” and she follows the boy’s trail. But Wally has a feeling neither of these people are ones that can be easily “taken cared” of.

Chapter Text

As he’s grown, his parents' voices and faces have faded. It was inevitable, logical. As one gets older, the only thing their memory can do is fade. And since Dick’s parents died when he was oh so young, the mist surrounding  them only grew in masses; thicker and thicker until Dick had to gasp for breaths of recollection. 

“Fly, my little robin.” his mother’s voice said through the mist, the clearest part of his memories at the circus. “Fly, my robin, and don’t let your feet touch the ground.” 

He held that memory close to his heart, wrapped it around him like the warmest blanket when his blood felt cold. And now, it felt like that blanket was snatched from him. By Bruce, of all people. Didn’t he care? 

Didn’t he know what it felt like to lose the only things keeping you connected to the ones you’ve lost? He must have, he lost his parents around the same age Dick did and Bruce is far older than Dick. Does Bruce even remember his parents from before his life turned upside down? If he went through the same thing that Dick did, and that’s why he took him in, then why would he make it so much harder for Dick? Didn’t he care?

Dick watched as Bruce put his hand on the shoulder of Red Hood, a quiet sign of acceptance. He flinches, hard.

“That means he will be treated as a temporary guest unless given a reason not to be,” Batman ordered and Dick’s anger builds up because how can Bruce trust this man so easily? Had it been that easy to replace him too? 

In his frustration, Dick dares to speak up, and immediately regrets it when a semi-batglare is sent his way. “He holds the same right to a secret identity as the rest of us.” Yeah fucking right . Dick is this close to thinking Bruce is being mind controlled. How is he so tolerant all of a sudden? Bruce hates not knowing everything, especially people’s identities! Is he really ok with making an exception for Red Hood or does he know and is just not telling Dick? Either way, Dick has to blink hard so the tears pricking his eyes don’t become visible. He doesn’t even hear Red Hood’s comment.

“I’ll be back for missions and a check-in,” Bruce finishes and he’s on his way to the tubes. 

It was impulsive, and out of character for his ‘Robin’, but Dick Grayson shouts “Wait!” and he runs up to Bruce before he can enter the zeta. He’s very aware that everyone’s watching them as they have their quiet conversation. 

“What is it, Dick?” Bruce says so low, he’s sure the only person who could hear would be Superboy. 

Dick lowers his voice to the same level as he asks, “Can- um- can I come with you?”

 Bruce looks at him for a quick second before looking behind him, to the group waiting. “You should stay with your team,” he finally says.

“Well, yeah, but…” Dick trails.

“What is it, Dick?” Bruce repeats, though this time he stresses each word like he’s in a rush.

Dick takes a breath. “I thought maybe we should talk.”

Bruce sighs. “We’ll talk when I get back. You know I have work. You should stay here, you might learn something today.” And Dick feels sick to his stomach. But before he could say another word, Bruce had already been zeta’d away. 

He’s lost his parents and now he’s losing Bruce to this stranger. Except this time, Bruce is choosing to be lost. 

Dick turns away from the zeta tubes and looks over everyone just staring at him, deep concern in their eyes. Everyone– except Red Hood. The man with a shiny red helmet and empty gun holsters on both his sides just leaned on the walls like this was all boring to him. Like Dick wasn’t losing his mind over this man's presence and existence. In his discomfort, Dick mumbles quick words of where he’s going and rushes out the door. 

He’s on autopilot as he runs to the workout room, the most comforting rooms in their base. Only a couple seconds of being inside and the tears he’s been holding back fall twice. They drip, from his white-out contacts, and through his mask, and it’s honest to God so uncomfortable– He wipes his eyes and they fall once more. This is not the time nor the place for this, he thinks. He is ‘Robin’ right now, and Robin is not supposed to be seen as so emotional. Except, he won't be Robin for long. 

If Bruce adapted that man, and if that man comes from a form of the future, he can’t be that far in age with Dick. So how much time does Dick have? A year? Two? He wonders when it will happen? When will Bruce decide he’s had enough of Dick and choose someone else to take his spot?

Dick came into the workout room to distract himself but as he walks toward the contortion equipment, he can feel his energy depleting with every tear that falls. He eventually decides there’s no point, and retreats to the ground. Sitting with his knees to his chest, back to the wall, his thoughts get turned up in volume.

He doesn’t want me. 

Why? What did I do wrong? 

I’m a fucking idiot. 

The kid-detective? You’re not good enough for this hero gig. 

Every new thought was like a punch to his face, and nothing could make it better. As he thinks he’s going to drown in his tears and negative thoughts, the door to the workout room opens and Black Canary enters.

It becomes clearer and clearer to Dick that he’s made a lot of mistakes. In his head, he’s listed two main ones. The first: thinking that a man such as Bruce Wayne, Batman, cared for a relationship beyond that of work and fighting criminals. It should’ve been obvious, it is obvious. But Dick just thought— he thought… wrong. He thought very, very wrong.

The only things Bruce cares for is himself and Gotham, there’s nothing left for him to be a father too. 

His second mistake was reacting so openly to realizing this correction in his thinking. He knew his friends were already worried, but the fact that Canary has gone out of her way to follow him here must mean he really looked a mess.

Silently, Canary sits next to him, and Dick makes no moves to get away.

They’re like that for a while– sitting next to each other in the quiet room with nothing but Dick’s sniffs as a sign of life. 

Once Dick’s crying seemed to slow down, Canary speaks without looking at Dick. Staring at nothing, she says, “I know you have a lot on your mind, but Robin, right now I’m going to need you to breathe. Don’t do anything else, don’t think about anything else, just breathe, Robin. Breathe.”

And he does. Dick tries to empty his mind and take deep breaths, the first part being more difficult than the second. 

“Do you know where you are right now?” She faces Dick as she asks and Dick raises his eyebrow. “Do you?” she repeats. 

Dick sighs. “I’m in the workout room of Mount Justice.”

“Good,” she says, and looks away. She lets a moment pass before adding, “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Dick shakes his head, but not as a ‘no’. He finally turns his head to look at Canary. “I-I shouldn’t be Robin,” he says, extremely embarrassed by the way his voice breaks. “I mean, look at me. I’m crying on the floor over nothing.”

Canary meets his eyes. Dick almost looks away, but Canary tells him not to. “I’ve been working with heroes and vigilantes for a long time,” she starts, “And before that, I worked with everyday people. You’d think it would be a big jump, from civilian to superhero, but can I tell you something?” Dick nods. “We’re not that different from an average person. Whether human or not, we all have these reactions to events. Happiness, sadness, anger, fear. We all get those feelings. It’s not unheroic, Robin– because I know that’s what you think. These reactions are what keep us connected to humanity, and it’s what makes the best heroes great.”

Dick feels like bursting into tears again, and wants to look away, but Canary stops him. “Look at me, Robin, so that you know I’m telling the truth. Don’t be ashamed of crying. Ever. You had a panic attack, that doesn’t define you. That doesn’t mean you’re unworthy of ‘Robin’, and if anyone had told you otherwise, I’m going to need you to tell them to fuck off. Do you understand?”

Dick nods, but Canary presses. “I need you to say yes.”

Dick swallows hard. “Yes, I understand, and I will. Thank you.”

“Good,” she takes a deep breath. “In one of our required sessions, you told me you don't have what Batman has.” Dick almost flinches at the mention of Bruce. “A spark, you said, to risk everything and anything for a mission,” she sighs as if thinking about the man gives her a headache. “You have a big heart, Robin, and there's nothing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with openly caring about things or people. And there’s nothing wrong with having these feelings. But if you keep it all inside, it’s not going to be good for you. It's obvious our new arrival triggered you, and I'm not saying you have to tell me everything, but I strongly believe sharing some of the weight with someone else will help you feel better.”

Canary makes it sound so easy, Dick thinks. He supposes she is a therapist, and she’s used to all the emotional mess from other people. It always did feel nice speaking to her. It was like she was one of the only people in the world he could open up with, no matter how small. 

So Dick tries really hard for his voice to not crack. “I just thought he cared more. I mean, he knows how much ‘Robin’ means to me- the name itself I- I-” He pauses, but Canary doesn’t rush him– only nods her head along to his words. 

“I know Red Hood is from another dimension, and it might never happen– ‘Batman’ may never take ‘Robin’ away from me, but the thought of it possibly happening. And then him giving it to someone else– a stranger– it’s just too much, I can't, I just- I can't.”

As he’s blinking away tears, he feels a hand on his shoulder and his eyes meet Canary’s once more. This time though, Canary’s eyes are filled with compassion and understanding. 

“I just can't believe he gave me away like that. Cause that's what it is isn't it? He gave away ‘Robin’ and got a new one? What will happen to me then? Who will I be if not ‘Robin’? It’s all I have- all I have…”

“I really wish I knew your name,” Canary says with her head to the wall. “Robin isn't all you are. I don't know that much about you, but I know you are a person under that mask. You have things that make you happy, and things that make you sad. You like to mess around with the English language and laugh at the most random times. You care a lot about your friends. If Batman ever decides to try and take the ‘Robin’ persona away, you have a lot to fall back on. But that’s not all there is to it is it?”

Dick bites the inside of his cheek. “I don't know if I should tell you the rest.”

“Maybe you should try talking to Red Hood.” At Dick’s scowl, Canary quickly adds. “The fact that he was the second ‘Robin’ from his world isn’t something we can change, but we do have control with what we can get from our interactions with him. Talking to him might give you some new perspective on the situation.” She pauses, then says, “Y’know, during the interrogation, he didn't have anything negative to say about his version of you,” as if for good measure. 

She’s suggesting a Robin-to-Robin conversation, Dick can tell. It’d feel weird, awkward, but Canary is really smart on things like this– it’d feel wrong to not consider it. “I'll think about it,” he decides. 

“That’s all a therapist can ask for, isn't it?”

And Dick laughs softly, “Thank you, Canary. Really.”

“You’re welcome, Robin.”  she nudges him. “But you should also try talking to Batman.”

“I will, don’t worry.”

Jason was almost shocked. These kids were on his ass for making Golden-Boy cry.

He has to stop himself from laughing when the female Martian tells him to take this seriously. “I'm stuck in an alternate reality with a bunch of teenaged super-punks,” he tells them. “How seriously do you want me to take this?”

Mermaid-boy addresses Jason with such a serious tone, Jason takes back any decent opinion he had of him. “Alternate reality or not, your actions are affecting our friend. It's unfair to him.”

Jason scoffs, cause what? “What actions?”

“Telling everyone that Batman made you Robin!” Wally says and Jason can’t stop the facepalm. 

“Y’all are the ones who asked!” He argues. 

“But you didn’t have to say all that!” The Arthemis girl says and Jason wonders if she really cares or if she just wants to argue with him. “You upset him.” 

Jason can only roll his eyes, though he knows they can’t see it. “What do you want me to do? Huh? The Big Bat switches Robins out like chess pieces. He’s just going to have to get used to it.” Before any of them can argue with that, he almost-shouts, “Am I going to have to deal with your complaining for the rest of my time here or will you all shut the fuck up ?”

He almost feels bad for snapping at the kids when they all go silent. He can't help it though, to him, it felt like they were all shoving a bunch of shit Jason already knew in his face. He knows they were only concerned for mini-Dick, but it still made Jason feel like shit. He already dealt with this in his world– Dick being pissed about Jason, and Jason himself having to deal with being replaced. But this whole situation almost felt worse because mini-Dick didn't have close to half the emotional-intelligence now-Dick or even older-teenaged-Dick had. It made him feel horrible for blurting out how he used to be Robin just to mess with them. He should've known better, but there’s nothing he can do about that now. And he’ll be damned if he'd have to comfort an emotionally constipated, insecure, young Dick Grayson. 

Taking one last look at the super sidekicks, still very much so angry at him, Jason decides ‘Fuck this.’ He’s not ‘bout to argue with some kids over some stupid shit like this. He’ll take his company elsewhere, specifically the room they assigned him yesterday. He’ll be damned if they think he’s going to subject himself to their complaining asses for long. He’ll just stay his ass in this room until someone from one of these dimensions finds a way to send him back where he came from. 

He just hopes it doesn’t take long for the cauldron of bats to realize he’s missing. 

(He silently hopes they care.)

Chapter Text

The meeting ended with ‘Brucie Wayne’ making a snarky remark. His business partners did not publicly express their annoyance, but it was clear to Bruce how tired they were of the persona he keeps up. Unlike the other 98% of the world, people who have worked close to Bruce have seen the tiniest bit of the serious part of Bruce Wayne, the business version of Brucie. This is why when Bruce is in the office, he drops the character of being a dumb multi-billionaire just a tinge. Not enough for anyone to draw a connection to the deadly-serious Batman, but enough so that they can see, through the smallest of cracks, the real him. This is why when he tells his new business partners, “This entire meeting could have just been an email,” he can confidently say that he meant that whole heartedly. 

The two hours he had spent in the meeting room, signing papers and talking through statistics and such, he really could have been getting on top of his tasks for the day. This may not be a surprise to many, but Bruce's daily to-do list is longer than the average man’s. Today, however, it was not only Bruce Wayne who was extra busy, but also Batman. 

The moment the meeting had ended, Bruce was out the door. As previously mentioned, he had a lot to do. He pulls out the checklist on his phone. On top of the three meetings he had today as Bruce Wayne, he needed to call a meeting with the other members of the Justice League to discuss the best course of action to send their current visitor back home. Speaking of their guest, he needed to do some research and shopping for the Red Hood. And of course, he needed to talk to Dick. He sighs, because the last item was probably going to be the hardest to go through. 

It's not a secret neither Bruce Wayne nor Batman were good at emotions or relationship conflict, but Dick was a child, and Bruce needed to put an effort to try and demonstrate proper expression to him. No matter how mad Dick seemed to be at Bruce for getting another ‘Robin’ in another universe, the subject can’t be left untouched. Bruce decides he will speak with the young teen after picking him up from Mount Justice.

Rolling into the front of the manor, Bruce is greeted by the sight of Alfred standing at the front door. 

“How was the meeting, Master Bruce?” The man who was far more than just a butler at this point greeted Bruce. Despite Bruce’s countless attempts, Alfred will never seem to get rid of his old butler ways in calling Bruce “master.” It’s weird, frankly speaking, but Bruce has known Alfred all his life– the man was not going to ever be informal anytime soon.

“Sufficient,” Bruce responded at the steps. “Why are you outside instead of in the house?”

“I merely wished to greet you at the door. I know how difficult these meetings may be for you.”

Bruce sighs. Despite being in this for years, meetings are still quite difficult for Bruce at times. Being in public, in general, as Brucie, sometimes makes Bruce want to throw up his lunch. He never shows that though, never. Not to anyone but Alfred. “Thank you, Al.”

“I am also awaiting the arrival of some clothing,” the older man adds, and Bruce lifts an eyebrow at that. 

“Why is that?”

“Well, after taking a peek at your to-do list today, I came to the conclusion that I should help lift some weight off your shoulders and did the honor of ordering some clothes for your new guest.”

Bruce had only mentioned the man staying at Mount Justice twice to Alfred, once last night when he first arrived, and this morning before he left for his meeting. He told Alfred all he knew– that the man knew them in his world, how he used guns as well as batarangs, his deep inner-city Gothamite accent, how he said he was the second ‘Robin’ and it wasn’t a lie. 

Alfred listened to it all and in the end said, “It sounds like this young gentleman is one of the more interesting cases in your career.” And he was right. Bruce– no one in the Justice League, in fact – has ever dealt with something like this before. Sure, Bruce had theories of different worlds, and Flash has proof of different timelines, but to come from a whole ‘nother world that's years ahead of their own? It was definitely something.

Alfred continued, as Bruce didn’t say anything. “Your notes said he said he appeared to wear a size L to XL; a lot of muscle mass. I've ordered enough clothes to last him a week. If it turns out he’ll be here longer, would it be appropriate to assume I should order more when the time comes?”

This makes Bruce think. How long will this man be here for? Will they even be able to get him home? “Yes, thank you. That was very helpful.”

Alfred nods. “I presume you’ll be in the cave?”

“Yep,” Bruce says as he passes Alfred and enters the manor.

“Well, don’t forget of your later meetings as Bruce,” he tells him and Bruce almost laughs. Of course he won’t forget, but Alfred can be such a… father-like person sometimes. 

“I’ll come up for lunch,” he says, and Alfred responds, “Well, I’d hope so.”

In the cave, computers buzz and scenes repeat. Bruce restates the facts out loud to himself, something he does a lot when he’s alone, and scribbles questions on pieces of paper, since it helps him piece things together. 

‘Jack- in-the-box’ has heavy implications to the Joker, but this is not a crime he seems capable of committing (though Bruce has no idea what that man may be like in another world). Bruce is still unsure whether or not what caused the actual transportation between their worlds– a heavily advanced device or magic? He’s unable to question the man who played the box, nor is he able to investigate the scene of the crime. He was able to ask Zatara questions concerning Mount Justice’s state following the arrival of the man. 

(“Did you sense any residue around the area the kids said the man appeared from?”

“It’s hard to tell, for reasons I am unsure of. It’s almost as though the magic is trying to cover its own tracks. I can almost feel it, but just as I do, it’s like it was never there. I would call it incredible, if it wasn’t for the situation we are in.”)

The lack of sureness of what caused this makes it close to impossible for them to be able to repeat the event, and send Red Hood back home. Bruce sighs. This truly is one of his more interesting cases. It almost hurts him how little action he can take to figure this out. He really doesn’t want to be the one to tell Red Hood there may be no way for him to return home. Bruce can tell the man is trying his best to remain calm, but even Bruce would be in heavy anxiety if he was away from all he knew for too long. 

The sound of the cave’s elevator snaps Bruce out of his thoughts. Alfred steps down with a package he assumes is what he previously mentioned to be the Red Hood’s new clothes. After a short exchange of words, Al leaves and Bruce can only assume it’s to make lunch. 

He took a glance at the time. Almost 12. Technically, he didn’t need to go back to Mount Justice until 9 to pick up Dick, but he knows he can’t just leave Red Hood up there for a whole day without offering him a change of clothes. He sighs. He really doesn’t want to make two trips back and forth. 

He looks back at his to-do list. 

“- Investigate Red Hood’s weapons.”

Ah, yes, another thing he didn’t want to do today. After the man had dropped his weapons his first night in this world, the Justice League decided to dump the weapons (besides the large chuck of kryptonite) on Batman. Their excuse, of course, was that Bruce was the ‘greatest detective.’ And if anyone could deduct anything from another man’s weapons of choice, it would be him. 

Bruce pulled the box of weapons from under the counter he’d put it. He’s surprised they were even able to find a container big enough to fit Red Hood’s assortment of weapons. One by one, Bruce puts the weapons over the desk. Like Batman, Red Hood carried a large variety of munitions. From smoke pellets, a grappling gun, to batarangs, to knives… to guns. Bruce stops at the first firearm from the box. 

Guns. 

The one thing he wanted to question Red Hood about, but held back on. Why on God’s earth would a former Robin use a gun?   It bothers him– a lot, if he was being honest. If the supposed second Robin would grow to use a gun, then what would that mean for the first? Bruce just can’t imagine Dick, the boy who is like a son to him, using the same thing that killed his parents. The way Red Hood spoke of Dick, it seemed like they were fairly close– close enough for him to laugh at the idea of Bruce believing he would ever kill Dick. 

There’s a lot he’s missing here, and, God, does it make him uncomfortable. He’s choosing to trust Red Hood, even though there are some warning signs around him. Bruce has always had a good intuition, and though Red Hood is suspicious, Bruce doesn’t sense any serious malicious intent coming from him. 

No, he needs to keep extending his trust. As always, Bruce is prepared for the worst, prepared for any betrayal– but that betrayal will only be certain if Bruce does not treat Red Hood with the grace he deserves. 

Absent-mindedly, Bruce opens the chamber of the handgun he was holding. Bullets, of course, are there, but not the average lead-based ones. Rubber bullets. A slice of the weight is lifted from Bruce’s heart. 

As he finishes going through Red Hood’s weapons, Bruce realizes that only some of the ammo was severely lethal. Curious. He wants to talk to the boy more, he decides. 

Both of them.

When he and Canary had finally come back to the main area, ‘Red Hood’ was gone. After questioning his friends, Dick finds that the man only went to his room– (well, the room they gave him yesterday. Dick doesn’t know if the man’s been in here long enough for them to label things as his.) When Dick asks why, they shrug, hesitant to tell him what happened while he and Canary were having their talk. 

Dick almost feels a sense of pride and loyalty when they tell him they confronted Red Hood about what he said, but he shamefully pushes those feelings down. It’s not Red Hood’s fault that Bruce decided to do what he decided to do. And blaming him didn’t make anything feel better. (Of course, not blaming him didn't make anything feel better either but Canary's trying to make him go into this with an open mind, so he has to try.) 

A little over two hours following his anxiety attack, Dick was feeling a lot better, mostly due to the comfort of his friends. They all did their part in trying to make him forget the stress from this morning, and while it didn’t entirely blank out his thoughts, he was grateful for their attempts. 

Canary had left after a quick training session between them all, teaching them some martial arts. (‘Robin’ of course, didn’t need this lesson, but the extra practice was also a great distraction.) So now, the team was alone in the cave with no adult supervision, something that was actually rare now-a-days despite their job. 

The two hours passed quickly actually, and sooner than later, it was lunch time. M’gnn said she was going to make it, and no one objected; her cooking had been getting a lot better lately. It's then, though, Kaldur’s comment makes him realize the Red Hood had been in that room for over two hours. 

“Shit,” Artemis says, “Do you think he’s up to something?”

“I doubt it,” Kaldur disagrees, “But someone should inform him there is lunch.”

“Not it!” Wally calls, and they raise an eyebrow at the boy’s childish behavior. “What?” he looks at them like they’re the weird ones, “Did you not hear the way he yelled at us? He’s pissed, and I, for one, am not trying to be at the end of that.”

Ok, Dick wasn’t there when they got yelled at– but that actually sounded kinda fair. He means, the man is intimidating and threat-like already, getting yelled at by him probably wasn't fun. 

“I’ll do it,” Dick offers and now it's their turn to raise a brow at him. Yeah, this is why Dick doesn’t show these types of feelings during work. 

“Are you sure, Robin?” M’gnn speaks up, “We don't want you getting yelled at too.”

Dick thinks on this for a while. He obviously doesn’t want to get yelled at either but, “I have a feeling he won’t yell at me. I mean, he knows an older-me from his world, right?”

Wally perks up, a sign that he’s about to say something stupid. “Ok, wait, Robin actually kinda has a point. It'll be like talking elder-robin to student-robin to him probably, right?”

See? 

Dick smiles, “I doubt the man sees me  as an elder, but maybe, Wally.”

The rest of the team don’t look so sure. “Okay… but you can back out whenever,” Artemis tells him. 

“Thanks, but I won't. I'll be fine.”

He’s knocking at the man’s door not long later. 

“What?!” he hears through the door. Ok, yeah, he’s definitely not in the best mood.

“It’s um…” why is he suddenly nervous? “It’s Robin…” he lowers his voice and adds, “Dick.”

He hears shuffling on the other side. “Yeah, no shit. What do you want, kid?”

There goes the elder-robin-respect theory. 

“Lunch’s ‘boutta be ready. M'gann made it and it smells good so you should probably come get some… or something…”

There's nothing said for more than a couple of moments. 

“Uh…” Dick knocks on the door again. 

“I heard you, Dickhead. You can go now.”

Does that mean he's coming to get the food or what? Dick doesn’t think that what Red Hood said and his tone leaves Dick any room to ask. So he slowly backs away from the door, like it might explode or something.

Before he knows it, he's back with his friends and they’re asking him if Red Hood is coming or not. Dick can only shrug, not sure of the answer himself. 

“Well, I’ll separate some for him anyways,” M’gann says, kind as always,

This proves to be useless, however, because even after Dick took two more trips to Red Hood’s door to inform him that there was food ready, the man never leaves the room. 

“His loss,” Wally declares, but Dick isn’t so sure it’s fair to dismiss it like that. 

They go about their day as normal from there: waiting for someone from the Justice League to give them something, anything, to do. Dick is just about to fall asleep on the couch while watching this old cartoon when the zeta tube activates. He lifts his head, immediately getting his hopes up. 

The man he wants to talk to doesn’t enter though. Instead Black Canary walks into the lounge. 

“I thought we only had one training session planned for today?” Conner asks after they welcome her back. 

“I had an idea,” Canary explains. “Where’s the Red Hood?”

“In his room.”

A look of concern finds its way to Canary’s face. “Has he been there since I left?” They nod, and she presses,  “He hasn’t had lunch?”

“Robin went to his door to inform him multiple times but he never left.”

Canary sighs. “This puts a pause on my plans,” she says then adds, “I’ll be right back.”

“Are you gonna try to get him out? ‘Cause I don’t think anyone’s gonna be able to-” Canary puts her hands up and Wally stops talking. “I’ll be right back,” she repeats. 

When her back is to them, they all look at each other. Everyone is almost completely certain Canary will not be able to get Red Hood out of that room. Canary seems to have different thoughts however. 

Dinah is not always solving everyone’s problems, contrary to some beliefs. She's a hero, a good one at that, but the amount of problems she’s actually able to solve is very limited, at least in her eyes. If she could solve everyone’s problems, then the Justice League might as well disband. This, however, doesn’t stop her from always trying to solve everyone’s problems. So when she hears that Red Hood has been in his room all day without food, well, don’t blame her for knocking on his door. 

“How many times do I have to tell you, Dick-head, I am not coming out to eat whatever shit your alien friend made!” 

Dinah pauses. Dick-head? Guess he’s lost his patience with Robin. She’s glad it’s not actually him he’s saying that to. It might make Robin even more hesitant to talk to the man, and Dinah knows how much it could help him. 

“It’s Canary,” she tells the man through the door. When he doesn’t say anything to that, she adds, “heard you didn’t eat lunch. Mind letting me in?”

Moments pass, and Dinah’s already thinking of ways to word convincing him to talk to her, when the doorknob moves, unlocking. He doesn’t open it for her, only unlocks it, but Dinah takes it as a welcome and closes the door behind her.

The room is bland– plain white walls, plain white draws, with a plain white bed. She wasn’t expecting it to be anything else–  she knows what the guest rooms of Mount Justice look like, but she also knows how such blandness isn’t good for most people’s state of mind. The room lacks the personality of the current owner. She makes a mental note to talk about that with him while she’s here. 

The man himself is still wearing his bright red helmet, and Dinah has many thoughts on that. She understands Batman is very paranoid about identities, and by extension Robin, and it seems also Robin #2, but goddamn . Wearing a helmet 24/7… that’s definitely something. 

“I thought you would be here with the lunch,” he says, leaning on the wall with his arms crossed on the other side of the room. She watches him tap his fingers on his arms.

“I’m not really room service,” she replies. 

“Then what are you here for?”

She cuts straight to the point. “Why haven’t you left your room?”

“This room isn’t mine,” he corrects her. 

“Well, you’re staying here–”

“This room looks like where you stick mental patients. I got my own room back home– this ain’t mine.”

So being in here is uncomfortable and feels degrading to him– understandable –but then why is he choosing to not leave? “Nobody’ll stop you if you want to decorate this room so it fits your style. I wouldn’t wanna have this as my– a –room either. Way too bland.”

“There’s no point in decorating if I’m not staying here, is there?”

Dinah takes the risk of asking. “You homesick?”

He hesitates with his answer. “There’s less tiny assholes back home.”

“So guilt then?”

The tapping stops. His fingers bite into his arm before he tells her, “Yeah, no, we’re not doing this.”

“Doing what?”

He steps off the wall and takes a couple steps forward. “You, trying to get me to talk about whatever shit you think I need to say. You know how many motherfuckers I got back home tryna dissect my mind? Get me food, or get out.”

Dinah doesn’t move. She knows he won’t hurt her, or at least, she sees that as a very low possibility. She supposes her approach wasn’t the best, but she doesn’t yet have an understanding of this man. She can tell he’s guarded and defensive, but that’s just like more than half of the hero community. Dinah usually needs far more than just a couple minutes with someone so she can help them, especially with someone who seems to be as reserved as he. 

There’s a deadly silence in the room before either of them speak again. She takes a breath. “I’m a therapist, licensed. Don’t know if you’ve ever met me in your world, or if I’m even the same over there, but something about me? I can tell when somebody’s going into distress. Staying in your room all day? Skipping lunch? Common behaviors of somebody about to have some kind of episode. And, don’t get me wrong, I’m not gonna pretend like I know anything about you– but if you’re going to be here for however long you’re going to be here– I would prefer you don’t have a negative experience in a place that’s supposed to be safe.”

She steps toward him, and he steps back. “I want to help, but I don’t want to do so by crossing boundaries. I know growing up with the Big Bat probably never helped you when it comes to speaking up about your emotions– Batman being a grade A example of emotional constipation.”

She steps toward him, he doesn’t move. “Just… start by telling me what’s on your mind. What’s stopping you from leaving this room? You said so yourself: you don’t like being in here. Tell me the problem, and I promise I’ll try everything I can to make it better. You don’t have to suffer in isolation. It doesn’t seem like something you’d enjoy.”

Dinah watches a couple feet away as Red Hood’s chest rises and falls. He’s taking deep breaths, and it seems to work in calming him down.

“...I’m not ‘bout to tell you my whole life story,” he informs her.

“I’m not expecting you to. I’ve been Batman’s therapist for months and I still don’t know his name.”

Red Hood tilts his head at that, but doesn’t ask. Hestitainly, he takes a seat on the bed, and she goes back to leaning against the wall. 

“I’m not going into an episode,” he tells her. “At least, I don’t think I am. I can usually tell… I just… Being here is bringing back memories I’d rather not have; Shit I thought I was over.”

“Wanna talk about those memories?”

“It’s… Robin,” Red Hood sighs– at least Dinah thinks he does. “Imagine you get adapted by someone everyone in your hood wants to be. You gain everything you’ve ever dreamed of– money, fame, getting to beat up people you never thought you could. But even with all that, it never felt like you were enough. You weren’t making a name for yourself– wasn’t trying to, didn’t want to. All you were trying to do was live up to the name he made for himself…” He pauses, and Dinah doesn’t say anything. She’s not quite sure she understands everything he’s saying, so she just waits for him to continue. “When I was younger, all I ever wanted to do was impress him, live up to the name he made, the name I was following. I had dreams, you know, of how it would be like when I finally met him. That, we’d be like– brothers from the first meeting. But I was so wrong. He hated me so fucking much. He hated that B took me in, hated that I used the same name as him, hated the idea of being brothers.”

Dinah’s sure her eyebrows jumped. “Robin?”

Red Hood nods. “He hated me so much, he tried to hide it. Tried to introduce me to his friends, tried to call me ‘brother.’ But that shit was all fake. I mean, back then it was. Now…” He shakes his head. “Back then, he didn’t like me, so by extension, neither did his friends– teammates. I was the imposter tryna be the first Robin. And I know he had his reasons– he was pissed at B, and I felt the same when the next Robin came around. But…”

He hesitates. Dinah tries to finish his sentence for him. “That doesn’t change the way it made you feel. You were just a kid, and you needed an older sibling.” 

He nods slowly and Dinah feels like shaming herself. When she left Red Hood with the team to talk to Robin earlier this morning, she didn’t think about how their reactions might’ve affected Hood. She knows it makes sense that she didn’t– she doesn’t know Red Hood like she knows Robin, so the young teen’s emotions were far more of a priority than Hood’s. But hearing his story now, she feels guilt. “Everything that’s happened up to now, it must feel like history repeating itself.”

“You have no idea,” replies Hood, who Dinah realizes she has been wrongly describing as a ‘man’ this whole time. “I hate it– thinking about this shit. It was so long ago, and he’s way better now. Just feels like… he missed the time I needed it the most.”

She hesitates. Hood’s let his guard down a lot from when she first entered this room; She doesn’t want to mess this up and have him go back on the defense. “Have you ever talked to anyone about this?”

“‘Robin’ hating me at first? Nope. I mean, it’s not like I didn't have any therapists before, it's just that… we never got around to this topic.” She could imagine. 

“Well, then, that’s one thing that you’ve already changed here. This doesn’t need to be a repeat. You know, I've talked to Robin. From what he’s told me, it doesn’t seem like his anger is directed towards you. And the kids, his teammates, they don't hate you. They’re worried about their friend.” When Dinah finishes, he’s silent. “You’re not leaving this room because you think you know what’s going to be said and done when you step out,” Dinah concludes, “But that’s not really the case. There’s no hatred towards you, but you can’t determine that by avoiding interaction.

“You should try coming out of the room. Not saying you need to, but I think talking to everyone will do more to help than staying in here.” When he still doesn’t say anything, Dinah adds, “I’m gonna bring you your food.” 

This gets him to lift his head, and Dinah gives him a smile before leaving the room. 

When she’s made it back to the main-area, she’s welcomed by the kid’s stares. 

“See?” Wally tells her, “There’s nothing getting him out of there.”

Dinah sighs. “We made far more progress than you’d think. Anyway, where’s the rest of the food that was left for him?”

“In the fridge,” M’gnn informs her. “It’ll probably need to be reheated.”

Dinah makes swift work on her feet, but by the time the microwave has started reheating the food, the sound of hard boots hit her ears. She turns, and like the kids, sees Red Hood has entered the main area.

“You’re not room service,” Red Hood tells her. “Fuck I look like making you get me shit when I’m perfectly capable of coming out here myself?”

Dinah shakes her head and laughs.

“What’s the status?”

“The first piece, Jason Todd, the notorious ‘Red Hood,’ is in place.”

“Great. Inform the clients for him, and make sure they pay in nothing but cash. Kill on sight anyone who tries to backtrack– you know how it is with these types of clientele.”

“When shall we send our next piece?”

“Wait no more than a week. We don’t want to raise suspicions. After all, they are only the seeds to a much bigger plant.”

“Of course.” 

“And Kainaat?

The girl raises her head, waiting for the next set of orders to be bestowed to her by the woman she has served for the last five years. 

“Destroy the ‘Jack-In-The-Box.’”

“Consider it done, Lady Mareesha.”

Chapter Text

The Martian’s food was surprisingly good. Unlike anything he’s had before, Jason is certain. It tastes almost like mac and cheese, but doesn’t fill you up as much. Jason almost asks the girl-Martian for her recipe, but he hesitates. 

Though they’re trying not to, he can feel the stares of this world’s residents on him, waiting for him to finish his lunch. they’re all scattered around what Jason guesses is the main area, while he’s closer to the kitchen. When he’s done, he repositions his helmet so that his mouth no longer shows and puts his dish in the sink. 

Following the sound the dish makes when it hits the kitchen sink, Black Canary –Dinah, he thinks –lifts her head up and looks over to him. 

Jason was not expecting to get a therapy session when he got transported to another dimension. In fact, Jason never thought he would ever be transported to another dimension to begin with— but, as much as he hated to admit it —telling Canary what he told her felt like a massive weight being lifted off his shoulders. 

The last time he got therapy was… Arkham. Unsurprisingly, the therapists over there weren’t that good. Not that Jason ever actually talked to them, but by the fact that their best therapist — Harleen Quinzel, now Harley Quinn — is now a world renowned killer… that should say enough.

(Speaking of Harley, he hasn’t spoken to that woman in a long time. She was crazy, definitely, but her crazy also came with great insight on things. Things like criminal tendencies from the eyes of the culprits. Things like how the things said and done to someone before adulthood affects their entire neurological processes. Ever since she switched sides that insight has become quite beneficial. Not to mention she’s almost fun to be around. Maybe he’ll stop by her and Ivy’s place once he gets outta here.)

Anyways, Jason watches as Canary walks over to him. Once she’s close enough, he tells her, “please don’t tell me you’re about to give me another free therapy session.”

She smiles at this. “Nope. but I have a favor to ask,” she adds, “consider it payment for the ‘free therapy session’” 

A smart man somewhere once said to never be indebted to anyone. Giving people the expectation for you to do good by them was a dangerous game. It’s a great thing that ‘Red Hood’ doesn’t follow these ideas of “owing” people, and “keeping words.”

“And this is…?”

Canary gestures to the team of sidekicks, who are still trying their best to sneak looks at them inconspicuously. “I want you to fight them,” she says.

“Fight?” Jason looks past Canary and onto the teenagers. “I get they may get a little annoying, but I thought they were your responsibility? Do you really wish they were dead that much?”

“Funny,” Canary says, “Maybe ‘fight’ isn’t the right word. I’m asking you to spar with them.”

“Spar, huh”

“Yes. You’re from a whole other dimension, or timeline. Not to mention your world is far ahead of us. Sparring with you would be beneficial even to the Justice League.”

“Ah, so I’m a tool for y’all to use for your benefits now?” His sudden aggression doesn’t faze Canary, who responds without missing a beat. 

“You can say no, but I doubt you have anything else to do.”

Jason actually considers it. It’s true that he really doesn't have anything better to do, other than wait in that bland-ass room until something comes up and he can finally go home. Plus, fighting a ‘toned-down’ Dick Grayson would definitely be an experience. 

“Yeah, ok,” Jason drawls, “I’ll spar with them.”

Canary claps her hands and Jason watches as the team of sidekicks walk over to them. This world’s Dick Grayson looks between the two of them and raises a brow. Unsure of how to respond to that, Jason moves into the shadows, and allows Canary to take the spotlight. 

“Let’s go to the training room,” she tells them and Jason can watch confusion flood all of their faces, even more so when they see Jason follow them.

Kaldur'ahm is too used to being the one “in the know” about things. 

As the team’s leader, he excuses it as it being his responsibility to know things in order to keep the team safe, but recently he’s found that he’s been starting to get an unreasonable amount of frustration when he’s unaware. He didn’t feel like this before he became the sole leader of the team, he’s sure. Usually he left the ‘knowing everything’ to Robin, but recently, anxiety flows through him when another unexplainable factor comes in. He knows part of it has to do with his insecurities as a leader. There’s already a lot of things he didn’t know, and he’s an outsider in this culture of landwalkers. There was absolutely no chance he wasn’t going to face obstacles such as these. ‘These obstacles’ being his unreasonable frustration when he doesn’t understand something, or isn’t ‘let in’ on things everyone else seems to get.

Before, Kaldur believed that his ‘frustration for the unknowing’ didn’t apply to Batman and Robin, for they were not something that just anybody was ‘let in on’. There is so little known about Batman and Robin, Kaldur is sure that if he put everyone’s knowledge of them in a book, it would only reach half a page. Actually, that’s not really true, because of course there is the exception of Wally – Kid Flash –who seemed to be ‘let in on’ everything that went on with Robin and, by extension, Batman.

Though he considers Robin a trusted friend and ally, he understands he doesn’t have the sort of bond he and Wally have, and it's understandable, if not, expected. It shouldn’t be a surprise that the best friend of the teen would know more about him than anyone else, but that didn’t make Kaldur feel any better. Sometimes, he felt as though he was not only an outsider for landwalkers, but he was also an outsider in his own team. 

These feelings only intensified following Robin's reaction to Red Hood’s revelations. Kaldur likes to think of himself as someone who is sympathetic and easy to approach, but when it comes to Robin, it feels like the boy is far out of Kaldur’s reach to help. To this day, Kaldur has never seen Robin cry, or fully show extensive emotion. Still now, he hasn’t, but this morning the young teen seemed to have gotten very close to that point. (It should be noted that Kaldur acknowledges it’s worrisome how a young teen’s display of normal emotion sent anxiety through his body, but currently he is far more focused on the unknown mentality of Robin.)

Robin, Kaldur has noticed, only ever moves away from situations where he feels he would show too much, always putting on a blank face as a disguise. Kaldur is unsure if this is just how the kid is or if this is part of his vigilante alter-ego, since Batman also seems to be an emotionally unaffected person. So it’s no surprise when Robin runs away once it becomes clear he’s not taking Red Hood’s presence well. But the question that keeps repeating in Kaldur’s head is ‘why’. 

Why does Robin react so strongly to Red Hood having been Robin? Why does Red Hood react so strongly to Robin’s reaction? 

“Alternate reality or not, your actions are affecting our friend.”

When the rest of the team questioned Red Hood’s intentions, Kaldur only said to Red Hood what he thought was right but it seemed even the team’s words affected the man negatively as he ended up spending a little less than half the day in his room. 

These big unknowns only cause Kaldur to question the smaller unknowns. Who even is Robin? What’s his relationship with Batman beyond Batman being his mentor? What’s their history, their past? 

Where does Red Hood fall ? 

Don’t get Kaldur wrong, he knows how to mind his business. It’s just that minding your business becomes hard when the other person’s business is your concern as leader.

Red Hood is an unexplainable factor Kaldur originally labeled as safe, but once Robin broke down at his words, he became that much more unexplainable. Kaldur didn’t want to label ‘Red Hood’ as a threat, because the Justice League– respectable heroes who must know far more than him –have labeled him as otherwise, and it might be disrespectful to question the assessments of the League. However, he’s not far off from labeling the man as a ‘liability to the mental well-being of his teammates.’ 

Of course, he would never allow his frustration with not understanding Batman and Robin– or rather, Batman and his Robin s –affect how he treats other people. He was still grateful that Black Canary was able to get Red Hood out of the room and eat, but a part of him was also ashamed of the possibility that his own unawareness might have caused Red Hood to lock himself up in the first place.

All of this is besides the point; ‘the point’ being that when Black Canary calls them over and directs them to the training room, with the helmented man following them inside, Kaldur feels frustration bubbling because he really can’t get an understanding on Red Hood. Black Canary talked to both Robin and Red Hood and seems to think it would be a good idea to allow them in the same space. What is she aware of that Kaldur isn’t? Wouldn’t it be wiser to keep them separated as they both cause unexplainable reactions to one another?

Kaldur keeps his concerns to himself and follows the rest of the team into the training room. It's only there that Black Canary reveals her intentions with them. “I want you all to spar with Red Hood.”

As probably expected from Canary and Hood, the team voices their disagreements with this.

“You want us to spar with him?! ” Wally exclaims, concern very apparent in his voice.

“What?” Red Hood mocks, “afraid I’ll beat you?”

“Afraid you’ll kill us is more like it,” Artemis mutters, though it’s loud enough for everyone to hear.

Canary clears her throat and the team turns their attention to her. “Sparring with Red Hood should be an honor to you all; he’s from a different world, different time. You might be able to learn a lot from him. This is only a friendly spar, no one is getting killed or even seriously hurt.”

Kaldur considers Canary’s words and it seems so does the rest of the team, as they don’t object. Putting their own personal biases aside, Canary is right about the fact that they might learn a lot from him, and, again, the JL doesn’t consider Red Hood an active threat. There isn’t actually any proof that he would hurt them besides their own feelings. 

“I see,” Kaldur speaks up. “In that case, I volunteer to spar with Red Hood first, as the team's leader.”

Red Hood seems pleased by this as he says, “I wanted to fight the team’s leader first anyway. So how are we doing this, water-boy? Powers, no powers?”

“You have powers?” Wally questions. 

“Of course not, but I know Aqualad does. So really I’m asking: do you want an advantage or not?”

“No powers,” Canary says. “This is combat training. You all need to learn how to be less dependent on them.”

“Understood.” Kaldur responds, and they both take positions opposite to each other. The team moves so they can watch a safe distance away, while Canary stands in the middle, giving them rules before she counts them off. “No powers. No serious blows. Anything else is fair game. Whoever gets the other opponent to call truce first wins.” Kaldur takes his stance: the one of a striker, with his feet slightly distanced, and his arms up. Red Hood mimics it. Kaldur can feel the anticipation rise as Canary begins to count down.

“Three. Two. One. Begin.”

Red Hood moves fast. Not speedster fast but insanely fast. He rushes Kaldur before Kaldur can do it himself. Kaldur ducks the swig from Hood, planning on sending his own punch, only for Hood to kick Kaldur in the chest the moment Kaldur had ducked away. Kaldur loses his balance, if only for a second, and Hood ceases the opportunity to grab Kaldur by the arm, pull him forward, and headbutt him– which, excuse Kaldur’ahm’s English, hurt like fucking shit. He’s lucky the force of the helmet didn’t knock him out, but his nose felt like a stinging waterfall of iron.

Hood didn’t stop because Kaldur’s nose was bleeding. While Kaldur’s head was doing circles, he kicks Kaldur’s ankle–hard– and sweeps his legs before pushing him to the ground– again, hard. Bleeding nose and aching back, Kaldur groans on the ground as Hood puts his foot on the teen’s chest and presses. “Call truce,” he tells Kaldur and Kaldur’s pride isn’t big enough to ignore the pain in his body. “Truce.”

The moment he does, Hood’s booted foot lifts from his chest, and Kaldur can finally breathe normally. The team, who seem to have been held back by Canary, rush to Kaldur. M’gann aids him get up while Conner yells at Hood, the others backing him up. The only person who stays quiet is Robin, who stands behind the rest of the team.

“You hurt him!” Conner accuses. 

“We were fighting, Superboy. That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

Conner turns to Canary. “I thought this was supposed to be a friendly spar.”

“It was,” Red Hood replies quickly. “Unlike what you all expected, I didn’t kill him.”

“You could’ve broken his nose.”

“Oh, trust, his nose is definitely broken.”

“I knew this was a terrible idea.”

“You’re insane!”

“Enough.” Canary doesn’t have to yell to silence everyone. “M’gann, go inspect Kaldur at the med-bay. The rest of you, take thirty. I don’t want to hear a word until we regroup.” She turns to Red Hood. “Red, walk with me.”

They disperse by Canary’s orders. Kaldur could walk mostly okay, but there was a raw pain on his back and chest. They ached ‘like hell’ –though it’s nothing Kaldur hasn’t experienced before– so it was very appreciated that M’gann helped him walk to the Med-bay. Not to mention his hand was dripping blood from holding his nose. Once there, he sits on the stretcher and allows M’gann to examine his body and face. Not a word is said until minutes later, when M’gann tells him his situation. 

“Nothing’s broken, only bruised. You’ll need some ice packs, and a bandage for your nose. How are you feeling?” 

Kaldur is still processing what happened. He knew there was a high chance he was going to lose against Red Hood– the man was taller, and bulkier, than him— but to lose that fast? He’s unsure what exactly he’s feeling. He’s not embarrassed; this spar was meant to be a learning opportunity, but he can’t help but wonder what was going on in Red Hood’s head. 

“I’m shocked,” he tells M’gann, “I wasn’t expecting him to do that.”

M’gann nods, preparing the ice packs. “I want to ask you something, but I feel like it would make me a ‘gossiper’ to ask.”

Kaldur raised a brow.  “Don’t feel as though you need to censor your concerns for labels.”

“I was actually wondering your opinion on Red Hood and Robin.”

“What of it?”

“I was just questioning things, you know, since Robin was so sad after Red Hood said he used to be ‘Robin’. If Batman adapted them both, then that would mean they’re brothers, right? But the way Red Hood was speaking of his Batman and him… ‘switching Robins like chess pieces’, it made me wonder: are Batman and Robin like father and son or soldier and commander? …It made me worry for our Robin.”

Kaldur understood her concerns, they were similar to his. It seems like Red Hood’s presence and the information he gave them did not only lead him to question things concerning Robin, but also led his teammates to do the same. Robin was, by far, the least open of the team– followed by Artemis. They still don’t know his civilian ID, nor who he even lives with. But the boy’s literal ‘masked’ persona never bothered any of the team before. Robin, like everyone else, had the right to a life outside the suit. Kaldur has trusted Robin up until this point, still does, and has allowed the boy to have his respected privacy, and he’ll continue to do so.

“I’ve had the same concerns,” he tells M’gann, “But we should trust that if something was going on in Robin’s personal life, and if his relations to his mentor became unstable, that he would share what he needed to, and we would help our good friend like we always have.”

M’gann nods, and a small smile replaces her troubled face. “Support Robin until the end– sounds like a great plan to me.”

“Please don’t tell me you asked me to ‘walk with you’ so you could lecture me,” Jason says once they’re a good distance away from the team of sidekicks minus two.

Canary stops walking, sits down on the floor, and gestures for him to join her. Hesitantly, he sits next to her. “Lecture you about what?” she asks.

“Are you serious?”

Canary sighs, a sigh that tells you that she’s really been thinking. “The team needed to see that. They have huge goals of following in their mentor’s footsteps but most of them have yet to encounter an enemy who will be unnecessarily brutal or cruel in a fight. Most are fighting to win, fighting to finish their plan, instead of fighting to inflict terrible pain on the person trying to stop them. They need to start facing these harsh realities.”

Jason hums. “So if you didn’t call me here to lecture me, what did you call me here for?”

“My problem isn’t with you being brutal in the fight. My concern lies with why you were brutal against Kaldur. Did he specifically do something to you? What was your thought process behind that?”

“Trying to analyze me again?” He says this kinder than he expected. 

“More like trying to understand you.”

Something about Black Canary makes it so easy to be honest. Jason sees why she chose to become a therapist– she’s good at it. “I guess I just had some anger I needed to get out. I’ve always started fights when I needed to deal with emotions– guess it’s a ‘bat-thing.’ Kaldur didn’t do nothing. I just really needed to punch something.”

Canary nods. “As long as you don’t kill them. Bats might come by soon to give them their mission. I’m almost certain he won’t be happy if he sees them all out of commission because of you.”

Jason almost laughs. He doesn’t want to think about the probabilities of him actually caring if this alternate version isn’t happy because he beat up JL's minis. “I won’t hurt them too bad.” He wants to add that he doesn’t even think he broke Kaldur’s nose with that blow, that he just wanted to mess with those kids, but he doesn’t. 

Canary gets up and checks up on each individual person. Jason remains in his spot on the floor. 

Thirty minutes pass by quickly and soon enough the girl-martian and water-boy are back. Kaldur has a bandage over his nose but other than that he seemed fine enough to Jason. 

Canary calls for everyone to meet up in the center of the training room again. “Let’s discuss,” she says. “What was everyone’s thoughts on that spar?”

When everyone voices their opinions at once, Canary raises her hand. “One at a time, please.”

Artemis raises her hand. “Well, Red Hood was ruthless, and didn’t stop fighting even though he already clearly hurt Kaldur.”

“Do you see that as a bad or good thing?”

“What do you mean?” Artemis’ brows come closer together.

“Is it a bad thing that Red Hood didn’t stop even when Kaldur was already bleeding?”

“Well, yeah. You can’t just keep beating somebody up when they’re already losing. No offense Kaldur, you did your best,” Wally defends. 

“That’s a nice way to think about fights, Wally, but do you think everyone thinks that way?”

“Well I…”

Canary hums. “Let me rephrase. Do you think the criminals we fight will think like that?”

“No.”

“Of course not. Some of them are going to hurt you even when they’ve already won. ‘Losing’ doesn’t matter when you step onto the field. There are people who are going to be far more ‘ruthless’ than how Red Hood was when he fought Kaldur. Far more. They will kick you while you're down, and leave you with more than just a bleeding nose… My job is to help prepare you for what’s out there, and what’s out there is mean, and brutal. I need you all to have an understanding of that so we can move forward.”

Jason knows all too well about the evils of winning enemies. He’s sure this world’s Dick Grayson has an idea of them too. It’s most likely why he isn’t saying anything about the fight, unlike his teammates.

Canary continues. “The rules of the spar were no serious blows, no powers, and to keep going until the other person called a truce. None of these rules were broken, as far as I can see. Kaldur can still move and fight. So let’s not focus on our biases when it comes to how ‘fair’ someone might not have been during the fight and focus on the fight itself. Kaldur, do you know what you did wrong during the fight?”

Kaldur steps forward with hints of resolve. “When I ducked from Red Hood’s blow, I didn’t anticipate him kicking me. It threw me off guard, and I wasn’t able to regain control. I allowed him to have the upperhand the rest of the fight.”

“Great reflection,” Canary praises the teen before addressing the group. “We always need to consider different outcomes and moves when in a fight. Many fighters can take the smallest of openings and flip the tables. Let’s all learn from this together and go onto the next fight. Who wants to go next?”

“I’ll go.” Wally volunteers, then faces Jason. “I misjudged this scenario. I see how I could learn something from you.”

Jason puts a hand on his hip, voice mocking as he says, “Ok, I know it may not seem this way, but I don't actually enjoy beating up kids.” 

“I'm not a kid!” Wally counters, seeming actually offended. 

“Of course you aren't, Kid Flash .”

Snickers are heard from the group even as Wally defends himself. “Okay, I walked myself into that one but still!”

“Alright, alright,” Jason backs up into his position. “Just take Aqualad’s nose as a warning.”

“I am.”

It would be cruel to describe Jason and Wally’s match. It lasted barely ten seconds, a single sweep under the kid’s legs and he already lost the match, calling truce far sooner than Jason expected. This makes Jason wonder if this was how his world’s Wally West, the fastest man born and decent combatant, actually was when at this age. He remembers the man being far more competent when they first met, but then again, they didn’t meet while Wally was still in high school. 

He thinks about this as he tells the boy, “Imagine how good you would be if you were fast and knew how to fight.”

“I can fight,” Wally chooses to argue. “I don’t know what happened there.”

“I do,” Jason says. “You lack a whole lotta practice. Lemme guess: whenever you’re out there doing your lil’ hero gigs, you’re always using your speed?”

“Well, duh. I’m Kid Flash, as you said. My whole thing is that I’m fast.”

“And that’s great but what do you think is going to happen to your other skills if that’s all you work on?”

As Wally seems to actually consider this, Canary steps in, “See? I told you guys you would learn something from him.”

“Who’s next?”

Superboy– ‘Conner’ –volunteered, followed by M’gann. Jason will admit, he was surprised by Superboy. This world’s ‘Conner’ fights differently than the ‘Kon-El’ he was somewhat familiar with. Not necessarily better, but more determined, angrier. It took him far longer than the others to call truce, and he actually landed multiple hits on Jason. His only thing is that he lacked the same type of strategic thinking as his world’s Kon-El, and Jason was able to use that to beat him. Conner had many opportunities to beat Jason that Jason guesses Conner just didn’t see. Jason felt good when the match was over, though Conner was obviously frustrated. 

M’gann was the opposite of Conner– she attempted to use openings to beat Jason but didn’t have the drive that would have led her to win. Jason beat her quickly enough, and Canary helped her reflect on what she could do better, as she did with Wally and Conner. 

That only left the arrow-girl– Artemis – and mini-Grayson, who’s still only observed so far. Artemis goes first. 

She’s a good fighter, practical and precise. She was able to block and dodge many of Jason’s hits, and get a few of her own in. Under the helmet, Jason smiles. “You’re not so bad, Arrow-girl. But who trained you? Roy Harper? Your punches are almost as weak as his.”

Confusion draws on Artemis’ face. “Roy–?”

Jason already ceased the opening. He pushes her by the shoulders and knees her in the stomach. She groans in pain, holding her stomach and losing her balance. As icing on the cake, he sweeps her feet, and she lands hard on her ass. Artemis swears at him when she calls truce, which causes Jason to laugh. 

He was only 50% sure that using Roy’s name was a good enough distraction; he had guessed between the green and arrow theme that both of them were Green Arrow proteges and that if there was a Roy in this world, they would know each other. It turns out he was right. 

As they have done for the last four rounds, the team of sidekicks walk up to where the match ended and help their fallen teammate up. This time though, they all look at Jason with the same confusion Artemis has. 

“You know Roy?” Kaldur questions out-loud for everyone else. 

Jason laughs, this time a genuine one. “Do I know Roy? No, he’s only my best friend. Let’s see… it’s two-kay-eleven… is he still going by Speedy?”

“‘Red-Arrow,’ actually,” Wally corrects. 

‘Red Arrow’. That alias only came after ‘Arsenal’ when Roy needed a more ‘appropriate’ name. Of course, ‘Arsenal’ is ten times better than just choosing the opposite of green and adding ‘arrow’ to it, but Jason digresses. How old would Roy even be right now? How is he in this world? Jason asks, “Is he a part of this sidekick team too?”

“No,” Kaldur informs him, “He works alone, but he is still our good friend.”

Though they can’t see it, Jason smiles. “That’s good.”

Artemis scoffs. “Is he as much of an asshole in your world as he is here?”

Ok, maybe this girl isn’t that bad. “Probably more.”

Wally starts getting excited again. “Guys, we should definitely invite Roy over soon!”

“You think he’ll show up?” Artemis asks facetiously.

If you tell him it’s about Cheshire, he will. But Jason keeps that thought to himself; he doesn’t know anything about the Jade and Roy of this world, and thinks he probably shouldn’t speak on them.

“Artemis,” he says instead. “You’re good, but the only things you should hear in a fight are the things that will help you win.”

“Look at you turning into a teacher,” Canary comments, but Jason ignores it for the young boy who steps up. 

“Up last, Boy-Wonder. Finally raked up the nerve?” Jason teases but he knows Dick probably allowed everyone to go first so he can observe the way Jason fights and figure out how to beat him. 

“Your winning streak ends here, Hood,” he responds. The tension between them has definitely eased down by a lot. Currently the only thing on both of their minds is beating the other in this spar. 

Before they get into position though, Jason tells Dick, “You know, I’ve never actually beaten my version of you in a fight.” He adds, “so this is going to be a huge confidence-booster.”

Jason watches a smile spread across the young boy’s face. “Don’t think too fast.”

Dick’s getting real tired of repeating himself.

“So when’s the last time you’ve heard from him? ‘Cause he isn’t picking up my calls or responding to any text. And his safehouse looked untouched– I stopped by it yesterday.” 

Bruce sighs. “It’s been a couple days since we last talked. But, Dick, you know how Jason gets sometimes. Disappearing for a couple days isn’t abnormal for him.”

Dick takes a deep breath. Yes, his younger brother takes ‘time off’ from the family sometimes. He understands when he does it’s because he’s scared of having a pit-episode, or even just a general mental health episode– and everyone always gives Jason space when he needs it –but Jason never disappears like this. He usually tells someone, even if it’s not Dick, that he’ll be out for a while. But Dick has messaged every person he and Jason knows– nobody’s heard from him in days. 

Dick’s leg bounces under the dinner table. Years ago, Dick bringing up a concern in this way would've been a gateway to an argument between the two. Dick likes to think things are very different now. They’ve been able to build themselves to the point where they can disagree openly about things in a healthy way. 

“Bruce,” Dick starts again, “you know how good my intuition is. I’m telling you something is up.” He looks Bruce in the eyes, and they stare each other down, neither wanting to look away and give the other the idea that their opinion is somehow above the other. 

“Are you sure this is what you should be focused on right now? If Jason wants his space–”

Dick cuts him off, “Then he would've said something. Bruce, he could be hurt right now, or in some kind of situation. I'm not tryna argue, but if you don’t do something, I will.”

Bruce sighs again and Dick’s lists two other things he’s tired of: holding back, and Bruce’s downgrading sighs. 

Dick understands that Bruce is scared– no, terrified is a more appropriate word – of losing Jason again. To him, every interaction he has with Jason has to be measured because the last thing he wants is Jason getting up and leaving them again. It’s why he never really confronts Jason on anything. He worries, and Dick understands because he worries too, but Bruce must still be able to recognize uncharacteristic behavior when it comes to Jason. 

“No, I understand your point,” Bruce finally breaks the silence. “Look, if he doesn’t say anything to anyone in the next couple of days, I’ll try to reach out. If he doesn’t respond, I’ll investigate, and let you know what comes up. I’m glad you came by, truly, but you know how strained my relationship with him is. I really don’t want to push a boundary.”

Dick’s eyes soften. “You know, you should try reaching out more. Jason’s not going to flee because you’re being a worried dad.”

Bruce sighs, and this time it’s an annoyed one. Dick chuckles. 

“I’ll worry about Jason,” He tells Dick. “Right now, son, you should be with Kory.” His tone implies that he’s about to lecture Dick, but Dick knows that’s not the case.  “How is she?”

“She’s doing good; pregnant as hell, but good.” His smile grows wider at the thoughts of his girlfriend. “Her brother’s visiting Earth for a couple days. They’re spending some quality sibling time together so I can spend some time in Gotham. Where’s the others right now, anyway?”

“Duke’s on patrol. Damian is spending the weekend with the Kents. Tim, I’m sure, is also there, avoiding Alfred.”

Dick raises a brow. “Why’s that?”

“Alfred found Tim’s stash last night while Steph stopped by to help him with chores. From what I’ve heard, Steph texted Tim when both her and Alfred found his stash… Tim is now refusing to come home because he knows he can’t look Alfred in the eye after lying to him about his coffee consumption.” 

Dick laughs when Bruce shakes his head. He continues listing off what other members of the family are up to. 

“Barbara’s with her father. Steph is sleeping over at Harper’s. I don’t think I mentioned it to you yet, but Cass contacted me recently. She's scheduled for a flight back to Gotham.”

“Yeah, she told me. She’ll be here by the end of the week, she said,” Dick leans on his chair. “Ah, I haven’t seen her in so long. Haven’t seen a lot of the family in a while.”

“No one blames you. Everyone’s been busy lately.”

“The house must feel empty.”

Bruce replies with a hum of acknowledgement and Dick laughs again. “Soon we’ll have your young one running around. I’m sure they’ll bring life to this old manor when you visit.”

“Excited to be a grand-Bat?” Bruce doesn’t respond to Dick’s teasing. Instead the alarm on his phone rings and he sighs. 

“Where’s Alfred anyways?” Dick asks as he gets up along Bruce.

“Grocery-shopping. He’ll be back for dinner. As will I, since I have to get going to my meeting.”

He puts his hand on Dick’s shoulder and squeezes it lightly. “Are you going to be staying at the manor?”

“Just until I have to go back to New York.”

Bruce lets go and nods. “You know the way to your room. I’ll see you soon, chum.”

“See you, B.”

Warm sunlight happily hits brown skin. Deep breaths allow him to fully take in his environment. Not too far behind him, the farm animals speak in ways he doesn’t understand, though he tries. A soft wind blows the grass beneath him, and he embraces that too. He finds that ‘taking in’ his environment like this, allowing himself to become fully emerged in it, always makes his recreation of the scenery look more accurate to what he wishes to convey. His pencil scratches the paper in repetitive strokes as he shades the hills in front of him. 

Damian won’t admit it to anyone who asks, but his days spent on Kent’s farm relaxes him far more than one would think. Between aiding Jon in his training, taking care of the animals, and the potential artistic inspiration, every trip to Smallville has always felt like a vacation. 

Despite the unexpected drop visit of Tim Drake two days ago, (Drake, yet again, making his caffeine addiction everyone’s problem), Damian has, so far, enjoyed this mini-holiday with Superman’s family. 

Suddenly, there’s a change in the way the wind blows. Damian knows who it is before they get close to him.

“If you plan on sneaking up on me, Jon, then you should try to do a better job at it.”

The young boy groans before sitting next to Damian. “How do you always know? I wasn’t even walking on the ground this time around.”

A smile tugs at Damian’s lips. “You cannot sneak up on a bat, Jon. We spend the nights in the shadows.”

“Yeah, right. I just saw Tim get jump-scared by an ant on his laptop.”

“Drake doesn’t count. He’s too sleep deprived most of the time. I promise you will not be able to sneak up on him either, when he’s at his best.”

“Is that a compliment? Aw, do you actually like Tim now?” 

Damian hums. He and Tim have reached an understanding in their relationship. He no longer makes attempts on his life, and doesn’t insult him when Tim calls him ‘brother.’ Things aren’t perfect, but he finds it easier to accept and give affection to everyone in the family than when he first joined them. “Take it as you will,” he tells Jon. He adds shortly, “Where’s Kon-El?”

“He went into town with Mom to get some groceries.”

“And my… brother?”

“Went with them. Said he got tired of listening to the chickens.”

“Of course.”

“Whatcha drawing, anyway?”

“The hills.”

“Huh. I never thought the hills were something Damian Wayne would see as drawing-worthy.”

“There’s nothing that isn’t drawing-worthy.”

They sit in silence for a while. Damian is almost done with his drawing when he asks, “When is your father coming home?”

“Tonight. He said he had a case he needed to wrap up in Metropolis and then he’ll be back for dinner.” Jon tilts his head, “Why? Is there something you need to tell him?”

“No, it’s just that Grayson called not too long ago asking if I've heard from Todd. I haven't. I was wondering if Superman may have seen any Red Hoods wandering around in Metropolis.”

“I don’t think Red Hood would be in Metropolis.”

Damian shrugs. “If Grayson is calling, then he obviously isn’t in Gotham, Bludhaven, or New York. There’s not many other places Jason would go.” As he speaks, he realizes why Grayson sounded so worried over the phone. Where is Jason?

“Are you worried?” Jon asks suddenly. Damian sighs. His heartbeat must’ve picked up. 

“No,” he tells Jon. “Todd will turn up soon enough.” He puts his pencil down. The drawing isn’t the best. It’s lacking something, though he’s not sure what. 

“Let’s go back inside,” he tells Jon. 

As he walks, Jon talks rapidly next to him about this and that. Damian does his best to keep up with the boy’s rambles, adding his own opinions here and there. When they approach the Kent house, Damian pauses when he sees a shadow on the side of the house move in a way he’s certain it’s not supposed to. 

“Are you okay?” Jon asks carefully, once he realizes Damian is no longer following him. 

Damian rubs his eyes, and nothing out of the ordinary is there. “Yeah,” Damian decides. “I think I need something to eat.”

Chapter Text

This fight is going to be longer, Jason recognized. Even though this Dick Grayson is less experienced than his, he is still Dick Grayson to his core— and still trained by Batman. 

“I’ve never actually beaten my version of you in a fight,” he told the first Robin. Though it was true, Jason’s main reason for telling him this was to see if the younger boy would lower his guard in favor of confidence. 

He doesn’t. 

Even before the match begins, small-Dick’s posture is perfect while waiting for Canary to count them off. 

“Same rules apply,” Canary says. “Both of you are talented fighters, so please, be careful.” Don’t hurt each other too much.

There are only hums of acknowledgment from Jason and Dick.

“Alright.” As she counts down, Jason is not unaware of the concern that practically emitted from Dick’s teammates. “Begin.”

Neither Jason nor Dick waste time. They both run to the other, meeting in the middle. Punches and kicks are immediately thrown, each one coming faster than the last. If a left hook is thrown by Jason, Dick responds by blocking and sending his own. If a kick is thrown by Dick, Jason moves out the way and hits him from another angle. 

They’re fighting styles are similar, but exactly in the way Jason expected. While both trained by the Bat, their early childhoods reflect on how they fight. Which means while little Grayson does his grand leg work, Jason fights dirty.  

Small-Dick must’ve realized this while watching the other fights, because he tries not to give Jason any openings for him to hit him somewhere unexpectedly. 

It’s almost poetic. 

When their ages were reversed, Dick didn’t have to protect all his openings. They barely trained together when Jason was the one who wore the ‘R’ on his heart, (was that a good thing?). He was always holding back; Dick that is. He must’ve thought that Jason didn’t notice that he was only letting him get hits in back then. 

Jason hated that. He really did. Dick must've been trying to protect Jason’s feelings, but it only separated the two more. Dick was always better. Every time Jason did anything, back then, his mind would scream: “Dick would’ve done it faster” ; “this would’ve been easier for Dick.” And when he got benched: “He wouldn’t do this to Dick.”

Maybe that’s why Dick held back in their spars. He probably knew Jason was trying to live up to the first Robin’s legacy. Probably knew Jason would’ve became Dick’s shadow if he could. Doesn’t make him feel less shitty though. 

And maybe that’s why he doesn’t feel bad about not letting this early teenage Dick Grayson win. 

They’ve been straight sparring for five minutes when Jason decides to end it. When Dick throws a kick at Jason with his left leg, Jason catches his foot with his hand and kicks Dick’s right leg. Hard. 

Dick almost winces in pain and stumbles when Jason lets go of his foot. His leg is most definitely bruised, but as any Batman protege, he remains neutral to the pain. 

“This was fun,” Jason says. “But I’m getting kinda bored so let’s end this quickly.”

For some reason, this makes Dick laugh. He must’ve recognized the confusion from Jason’s side because he says, “You tryna’ sound like a low-grade Gotham villain or is it natural?” 

Low grade—Jason smiles. These Robin-ass tactics. You can really tell he was the first.

Before Jason can retaliate with his fist, the kid presses a button in his utility belt and suddenly there’s a Bo-staff in his hand. “You’re bored? Wanna make it fun?”

Now it’s Jason’s turn to laugh. “Thought this was hand to hand.”

“Nobody ever said ‘no weapons.’” 

They both look over to Canary, who nods albeit slowly. 

“Okay,” Jason says. “You started it.” 

He can see Dick’s teammates’ faces grow in concern and fear as Jason takes out his own weapon, a collapsable battle staff. 

“Thought you gave all your weapons away,” Dick says, his voice so steady Jason doesn’t know if he’s hiding worry or if he’s genuinely not scared.

“You know better than that,” Jason calls back because he should. No Robin is ever unarmed. 

Honestly, he hasn’t really picked up a lot of staffs since he was Robin (guns and knives are more effective), but he still keeps a collapsible one on his person at all times. Sometimes, he and Kory would mess around with staffs but it was less training with them than it was a stress reliever for the two. (And Kory always beats him in staffs but that’s not important.) 

They both run up on each other again, this time they’re staffs meet instead of their fist. The clicks and clacks of the hard metals interacting fill the room. 

It takes more long minutes of fighting for them to realize they’re “evenly matched.”

‘Evenly matched’ when really Jason’s doing just enough so that the kid doesn't win, but not as much as he would on the field. If Jason really wanted to win, he could seriously hurt this kid. Staff or no staff. He doesn’t know why Black Canary is putting so much faith in him. What is he in her eyes anyway? Is he not only a random man? With values unaligned? Is he not just a threat to the safety of these kids? 

This fight needs to end, he thinks, trying to ignore the sudden shift in his mood.

He knocks Dick’s staff out of his hand, and throws his own away. Before Dick can settle on a reaction, Jason already pounces on him. Dick’s hands catch Jason’s and, intertwined, they try to push each other down.

“Please give up kid, or this fight is going to last forever,” Jason tries to reason, but Dick only laughs and shoves harder.

“We don't do that over here.”

“Why are you still trying? I overpower you.”

“Yeah? Well, so does everyone else. You’re not that special.”

Jason is not sure why that hit him so much. He knows Dicks not the perfect, confident, figure he makes himself out to be, especially not when he was a kid. But why would Dick’s Robin ever have to worry about himself in comparison to others? He was the first teenaged side-kick in the field. The tactical one, the one that finished all his fights. Batman’s protege.

Of course, he doesn’t know the legacy he holds. 

Jason brushes it off, “Huh, self confidence issues? Never woulda thought R-1 used to be such a loser.”

Dick’s smile only grows. “You’re trying to throw me off and it’s not going to work because I’m already expecting this.”

“You expect everything don't you?”

“We have to.”

“Do we?”

“How else are we supposed to win?”

Jason doesn’t know what caused the pain right away– because he never would have thought this mini-Dick would actually kick him in the shin during this fight. It hurts, but he can walk it off. When he faces the boy again, Dick’s taken both their staffs and holds them like swords. Jason decides to continue their conversation. 

“Win or protect?”

Dick charges, swinging as if he was holding blades. Jason dodges just the same.“What are you talking about?” Dick responds.

“Are you fighting to win or are you fighting to protect your city? What do you think the job of Robin is ?”

Jason finally struck a nerve. Dick’s swings become more untamed. 

“I'm fighting because it’s what I was made to do,” Dick tells him. “It’s my role in all of this.” His breaths are heavy but he keeps going. “I’m the ‘first Robin’, if anyone knows what my– ‘our’ – job is, it’s me. And you’re not going to win this fight.”

“Your ‘role in all this?’ Do you even know what ‘all this’ is?” Jason stops dodging, and faces Dick. He catches the next to swings and pushes Dick down. The staves make irritating clacks when they hit the floor. Jason takes his, and presses it on Dick’s chest. His next words are only loud enough for Dick to hear them. 

“I have things to lose, that's why I win. There’s nothing you're protecting, and that’s how you lose. You’re not playing out your role by doing this; you’re just playing a kids game.” He presses the staff on him harder. “Just ‘cause you’re the first Robin doesn’t mean your punk-ass knows what you're doing.”

When he takes the staff off him, Dick breathes heavily. He finds the words to say, “You find joy in fighting kids?”

The blood under Jason’s skin boils. “You stop being a kid when you put that suit on. You know that better than anyone else.”

It becomes clearer to Jason why Black Canary wanted him to spar their team. 

Dick and his friends were the first generation of teen heroes. No one knew what to do with them; to put them on the same level as the people they fought or to see them for their age. They lived off the highs of their fantasies, untouchable to no one but themselves. And it gets some of them killed. And she knows Jason knows. 

He gets up and walks out. No one tries to stop him.

I find joy when kids start realizing that this shit is all real.

-

They’re still in the training room half an hour later. Jason has found his place back in this room they assigned to him, lying down on the floor boards instead of the warm bed next to him. His back is certain to ache after this but, right now, what he really needs is some good floor time (it quite literally grounds him).

“I'm fighting because it’s what I was made to do. It’s my role in all of this.”

Seeing Dick as a kid have such a similar mindset as Jason when he was Robin bit at Jason.

Neither one of them really knew what they were getting into when they put on that Robin suit. They were both just kids, Dick even more so. Nobody told them they were signing a lifetime contract of distrust, paranoia, and trauma. The only person who could have warned them was Bruce, but by the time Bruce realized the pit they were falling in, it was too late. Jason was dead and Dick was in too deep. There was no saving them.

Tim and Steph came around at the time of Bruce’s guilt, and he put his failings onto them. Jason wasn’t there, but he can still see how the weight of Bruce’s treatment holds over Steph and Tim. He tried to shelter them, though likely with aggression. It obviously wasn’t received well. There was no stopping the third and fourth Robin from jumping at the chance to sacrifice themselves. 

Damian– There’s nothing Bruce could do that would take Damian away from violence, and how could he deny Duke, Harper, and the others to come?

It’s not like the lives Jason and his siblings would have led without Bruce’s influence would be no better than the ones they follow now. Dick would’ve ended up in the system. Jason would’ve been killed on the streets. Tim’s neglect was certain to fuck up his mental. Steph was stepping into the role of a young and abused mother. So on and so forth. So why is Jason so mad? 

His thoughts fight each other, a sage war.

Bruce helped him. Bruce set him up to get killed. Bruce loved him. Bruce used him. Bruce was his parent. Bruce was his commander. 

Jason is just so, so mad. For himself. For his family. For all the kids doing jobs most adults couldn’t handle at their current age. How is this young Robin going to handle all the shit that’s going to get blown his way? When his friends die and his family turns their back to him, only to come running when they don’t know how to fix their messes? (Jason tried to step away from the role of older brother, bestowed to him by Bruce who seems to gain a new child every year, but everytime Jason looked back at his family, he saw Dick filling in as two brothers instead of one. How could Jason walk away?)

And Jason’s presence is really just making this kid’s life worse. What is he thinking? What was he even saying in there? Why is he putting those questions in that kid's head? 

When he hurt Dick, his world’s Dick, he was really just hurting this little kid wasn’t he? Since when did he hurt kids?

Right now, Jason just wants to seep into the floorboards he lays on. Become one with them. What do floorboards know about family conflict? Of self-sabotage, and internal hate? Nothing. Why couldn't Jason have been born a tree? 

Stiff knocks on wood snap his attention.

“Go away,” Jason immediately responds. He needs to organize his thoughts and actually know what he’s feeling before Canary tries to give him talk therapy again. She needs to at least give a couple hours to figure out which thoughts are his own, and which are the green reflection of himself.  

There’s a moment of silence after Jason calls out and he believes the person, thought to be Black Canary, left.

The man behind the door clears his throat, however. “It’s Batman.”

The universe really enjoys its sick little jokes doesn’t it?

Jason has no choice but to sit up. “What do you want?” the aggression in his tone will most definitely be noted. Jason can’t help it though, this man has really bad timing. 

Bruce is straight to the point, another universal constant. “I’ve brought you a change of clothes.”

Jason thinks about dismissing him but, as the stench that admits his body becomes more noticeable, he realizes it’s been over a day since he showered. Hesitantly, he opens the door and allows the man he constantly denies as his father to enter. (He can’t say why– why he let Bruce in despite him being the last person he wanted to see right now. He could’ve easily told the man to leave the clothes outside the door and leave him alone. He could’ve said nothing, and seeped into the floorboards. Maybe, maybe , deep down, he just wanted to see a familiar face. What would have been the face of the man who tried to raise him, if Jason hadn’t been such a fuck-up.)

He doesn’t say thank you, even as he takes the bag from Batman’s hand. 

“Have you been here all day?” Bruce asks. 

“No.” A simple answer, a conversation-ender. 

Jason spreads the clothes from the bag on the bed. It's an assoration of t-shirts and sweatpants, nothing especially fancy, though it's not like Jason was expecting it to be. He wasn’t expecting anything from Batman in the first place. 

“Where are the others?” Can he not tell Jason isn’t in the mood?

Jason shrugs even though he knows where they are. 

“No matter, I’m not here for them right now,” he faces him.

Jason pulls out the last article of clothing. He wrinkles his nose, but quickly realizes his helmet is still on. He tries to put his facial expression into his voice, “A red hood, seriously?”

Bruce scratches his neck. “Agent A bought them.” 

“His sense of humor here is interesting,” Jason replies. The thought of Alfred does wonders on his mood. The only undeniably positive old male figure in his life.“How is he?” He asks, and because he’s Jason and when has ever passed on a chance to mess with Bruce, “Does he still have hair?”

“He loses his hair?”

“Kids are stressful,” Jason decides to reply, “especially yours.”

Bruce doesn’t ask about that statement. “If you want-”

What cuts Bruce off is something on his wrist, a communicator of sorts. It shines a bright blue and beeps. Bruce sighs. “I have to leave now, but I’ll be back soon enough. I wish to speak with you then.”

Jason resist a sigh. “No promises. I’m a pretty high-demand person nowadays.”

Bruce doesn’t question that either. He leaves without a goodbye. Jason’s used to that, at least. 

Despite himself, Bruce thinks he does a good job at hiding his intentions. There are only three people, in this world, who claim to be able to read Bruce like a book, and have the evidence to back it up. (He grew up with Alfred, so he’s a given. He has no idea how Selina and Dick have learned him so well, but they are the other 2/3.) Batman is always the one who knows something the other doesn’t, always the one who plans for every step, every emotional response, everything, everything, everything. He’s rarely surprised, rarely hurt, because he alone holds the upper hand. No one knows his next step, save for those three people.

Bruce reads people– other people don't read him. (Batman is a symbol, but also a reflection of Bruce. It’s intuitive, how he carries his night activities into the way he sees the world as Bruce Wayne, though acting on it is rare.) 

Since the first Bat-suit, Bruce can count on his hands how often he’s been surprised by someone. Every interaction with Red Hood is adding onto the count. 

Bruce is denibly not fully prepared to deal with Red Hood, a boy from an alternate reality decades into the future. 

“It’s Batman.”

He stood outside the boy’s door for minutes, unsure whether or not the boy would open the door. He could hear his steps from the other side, but the multiple moments the boy spent only standing on the other side of the door, doing nothing, was unnerving. When he (Bruce can not say ‘finally’, because the invitation inside the room was never certain) opens the door Bruce is faced, yet again, with a red helmet. He can’t even begin to imagine what could be behind it, that this person felt the need to cover his entire face, or what has happened to create that sense of fear that he’d rather die than have some see it.

When conversing with Red Hood, it would seem that the boy made a hobby of messing with Bruce. He reminds him of Dick, in that way. Bruce can practically hear the younger boy’s snickers with every passing joke this man makes. There’s a small difference, however. There is a bitterness in Hood’s comments, a hidden context that only he knows. As everyone knows, Bruce hates not knowing. 

“Kids are stressful,” Jason decides to reply, “especially yours.”

Bruce is denibly not fully prepared to deal with future-children. Batman is though, so that is the front he put on.

(For a second of impulsivity, watching the boy unpack clothes in a cold room, he lets that front slip. “If you want-” you could stay at the manor with Agent A, Robin, and I. I have a feeling it would be more comfortable. An alarm on his commuter sounds, and Bruce sees it as a save. Red Hood would most likely have declined the offer, anyways, though there’s really no telling with this boy. There's no need to make things more complicated).

 “No promises. I’m a pretty high-demand person nowadays.”

Bruce’s goodbye is the nod he gives Red Hood. 

 Zatara wishes to have a meeting with him, possibly concerning the same boy he was just speaking to. The message said to report to JLA’s base, so that is where he will be headed. He will touch base with Zatara and then find something for Dick’s team to do, then all that needed to be done would be done for the day. He makes his way to the main area once more, and surprisingly finds that the team is still not there. He takes a guess and assumes that Canary is training them. In that case, he is not yet needed here.

On his way out, he hears chattering approaching from the opposite hallway. It's so very obviously Dick and his team, Bruce doesn’t even turn around to face them as they enter the area he’s about to depart until a distinguished voice calls out to him, “B!”

“Robin,” he addresses him. Dick stands in front of his group to try to talk to him. He… is standing differently, less confident, more anxious. It’s such a slight difference that Bruce isn't sure if anyone else could even notice, but Bruce lives with Dick– he cares for him and sends him off to school in the mornings. Bruce can tell when Dick is off, even with the Robin mask on. 

“Do we have a mission?” Robin asks.

Bruce wants so badly to put his hands on his shoulders and tell him to keep his head up, but it would breach the boundaries of Batman and Robin, and become too closely Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson. 

“I’m on my way out. I have a meeting with Zatara I can’t miss. I will be back.”

Instead, he looks at Dick and thinks the thoughts, we will talk later, promise, and only hope that his eyes will deliver the message. Dick looks away. 

Bruce holds onto his sigh. Before he leaves completely, he addresses the entire room, “I need someone to show Red Hood where the showers are.”