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Tim blinked, his eyes sore. He could’ve sworn he was just preparing to go out looking for the Bats, but now he was out, in the middle of Gotham, in a crashed car.
In what looked to be a black car with a whole lot of buttons and was that meant to be there and-
Tim was in the Batmobile.
“I just crashed the Batmobile!” he yelped, then paused. His voice sounded deeper. He was also wearing different clothes: black gloves, black paints, and a red top. All made of what looked like lycra but felt like kevlar and was definitely too big for him.
Oh god. He was wearing vigilante gear. He had somehow stolen a vigilate’s suit. But- whose? He knew all of the vigilantes that worked in Gotham, and none of them had such clothes: Batman’s was, well… black; Nightwing’s blue, and; Jason’s green and red. No black and red. He was pretty sure there were no Justice League heroes with those colours, and it wasn’t like Batman would allow any into Gotham even if they did exist.
Oh no. What if there had been a new one and Tim had interrupted their debut? That would be just like Tim- always getting in others’ ways. Who knew? Maybe he had run into a magic user and Tim had swapped bodies with this new vigilante and now they had to fight crime in Tim’s body and now he’d made it such a mess, and-
Red Robin report, said a gruff voice in his ear. Tim jumped, startled, before realising there was no-one there. Reaching up he felt an earpiece. As he touched it, it made a click. Tim froze.
Red Robin? Came the voice again, this time more concerned. Report.
Tim was still frozen- what was he to do? They were clearly expecting Red Robin and Tim was definitely not that. He should leave; he wasn’t necessary; he was just getting in the way.
There was a soft thud outside and Tim looked out the window to see Nightwing there. Oh god. He was in so much trouble. First he’d taken Red Robin’s spot, then he’d crashed The Batmobile. Tim shrunk down in his seat.
Nightwing fiddled with the door and swung it open. “Hey there,” he said with a smile too bright to be aimed at him. “How old are you?”
Was he seriously asking Tim how old he was? Not what he was doing there? Not whether he’d crashed the Batmobile- well. It was quite obvious he had.
Nightwing was still staring at him. “...nine,” he said slowly. “But I’ll be ten in July!” he added swiftly. He didn’t know why; most adults didn’t care beyond a simple number.
“Okay,” Nightwing said, smiling again. “What’s the last thing you remember?”
“I was-” Tim cut off. He couldn’t very well tell Nightwing that he had been about to sneak out and follow him on patrol. “I was doing my homework.” There. That wasn’t too much of a lie.
Nightwing’s face flickered into a smile. “I’m sure you were.” Tim’s gaze lingered on Nightwing’s face. He didn’t know anything… did he? Surely not. Nightwing leaned over and began to undo the seat harness that, now he thought of it, was rather restrictive. “What were you working on?”
“Physics,” Tim said. “Mr Brown said I was too young for it but it’s really easy. I don’t see why everyone keeps failing his class; it’s really just elementary math. Not even the fun stuff!” he lamented. Mr Brown really was a jerk- so condescending too.
“Oh really?” Nightwing hummed as he began to clear the space around Tim in the car. Tim didn’t continue- he’d rambled enough; he didn’t want to distract the vigilante any more than he already had. “Is mathematics your favourite class then?”
Nightwing was clearly expecting a response, so Tim continued. “No. My teacher goes really really slowly. Like, we don’t need to still be revising place value!”
“That sounds really annoying,” Nightwing said sympathetically. He started guiding Tim out of the vehicle. “What’s your favourite class then?”
Tim paused to think. He didn’t really like any of his classes. They were all too boring or, in the case of English, too subjective to have any real meaning. “I like computer science,” he finally decided.
“I didn’t know they had computer science at Gotham Academy.”
“They don’t. I-” Tim paused, and titled his head, now fully out of the Batmobile. “How do you know I go to GA? Also, why didn’t you ask my name? Usually that’s one of the first things you ask someone. Not their age or favourite class.”
Nightwing paused, then let out a little laugh. “You’re perceptive, even as a baby bird.” He moved to ruffle Tim’s hair, but Tim ducked away.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
“Nightwing,” came a growl from behind him. Tim spun around to come face-to-face with Batman. The Batman, whose car Tim had just crashed.
“We’re fine,” Nightwing immediately said.
Batman grunted.
“Just a simple case of de-ageing paired with memory loss,” he said.
Tim tilted his head. De-ageing…? But how? Unless…
“I’m Red Robin?” Tim interrupted. He immediately shrunk away when the full force of two vigilante’s stares bored into him.
“We should go back to the cave,” Nightwing said.
Tim opened his mouth to protest that the Batmobile was still crashed, but realised it would probably not be a good idea to a) remind Batman of the fact and thus b) be the subject of his ire.
Batman raised one hand to his comm and said, “Oracle?”
“Engaging nano-bots now,” came a roboticized feminine voice through Tim’s come. He spun around to see the Batmobile repairing itself.
“So cool!” He breathed.
Nightwing grinned and picked Tim up, pulling him into the backseat with him. “And now you get to see the Batcave.”
“Awesome!”