Chapter Text
"I still don't understand why this is necessary."
"There have been issues with cheating in the past."
"In my defense, I genuinely thought it was a bomb threat."
"Jason. Jaybird. Jay-bean. The clues were in plastic red Easter eggs."
"They were left by the Riddler, Grayson, and to my knowledge, Batman had been kidnapped."
"No, they're in cahoots," Tim grumbled.
"Tt. Obviously."
"Will they all hurry up already?" Steph complained.
"They can hear us, you know, now it's going to take even longer."
"Oh, shit."
Cass giggled.
The six of them were arranged in a circle, facing out, which they could only tell by voices, as they were all blindfolded and bound to folding chairs. None of them remembered anything after going to sleep in their beds the night before, except for Tim, who kept trying in vain to rid himself of the mental image produced by his nightmare: Dick turned into a bunny rabbit, Nightwing mask and insignia and all, frolicking in a fucking flower field and mistaking Tim's favorite highlighter for a carrot.
None of them bothered to struggle, even though they probably could have slipped their binds in seconds. This was a sacred tradition, blindfolds and all, thanks to a hot-headed Jason as Robin.
"I seriously hope I get Harley again this year," Steph said. "She gets the best freaking chocolate."
"I wish Father had not forbidden Isely from gifting us poisonous plants," Damian sighed.
Tim shuddered.
"I still say I should be on the villains' side this year," Jason grumbled.
"Yeah," Tim muttered, "so you can send me trawling through every sewer and dumpster in the city before giving me a can of fear gas or some shit."
"So I can fucking shove an Austen book in your hands and make you read it, you uncultured piglet."
"Piglet?" Tim cried, finally jerking against his binds. " Piglet!?"
"You're too tiny to be a full-grown swine."
Damian laughed.
" Fuck you!"
" Now, now," came a crackling, electronic voice that made all of the kids perk up. " It's Easter Sunday, y'all need to watch your mouths!"
"We can't," Steph said, "we're blind."
"Lord, have mercy," another voice muttered lowly. There was an even lower response and a mad laugh, then Riddler took over again.
"Anywho, welcome to the seventeenth? Eighteenth?"
"Twentieth," Dick corrected.
" Twentieth? Wow, time flies. God, now I feel old, thanks Nightwing."
"Don't mention it."
"Welcome to the twentieth annual Rogue Easter Egg Hunt! Sponsored and originated by yours truly and put forth by Reformed Rogues Not-Anonymous. You all know how this works, follow the egg trail to your basket, follow the final clue to rescue Batman, or don't, frankly it's been ages since we really got to catch up, and game night gets really fun if you let us get through a bottle of wine."
"Now I really wish I were on the villains' side of this," Jason complained.
" You have until five pm, because at that point if you're not home for dinner, Alfred will wring all our necks, and none of us are dealing with that. At any rate, you are now free to move about the cabin and follow your clues. Good luck!"
There was a scurry and scuff as all six wriggled free of their bonds and tore their blindfolds off. Cass bounced on her toes; Damian cracked his knuckles. Dick turned to the inside of the circle and picked up the sheet of printer paper, reading the words aloud.
"This verse is to Red Robin addressed.
It shall name you your villain,
And advise you to keep a quill pen
To write all the answers you soon shall have guessed.
I task you to riddle me this : Go
To the place that first we two met.
And to the rest, I safely can bet
That you will have read this, and so:
You shall soon tell, by our poetry,
Which one of us Rogues
You must by our clues discover.
If you look about you, you will see
Pieces at other times in vogue,
Which will help your pairings to uncover."
“Hell, yeah,” Jason said. “Petrarchan sonnets for the win.”
“I love you, Ed, but you read too much Shakespeare,” Tim muttered.
Jason smacked him upside the head. “Shakespeare had his own sonnet form, piglet.”
“I swear to God, Jay…” Tim glared, rubbing his head.
Dick hid a smile and passed Tim the note, bidding him good luck. Tim wished the others the same and hurried out the door.
The remaining five scoured the room for other scraps of paper, passing them off when they were not the addressee, and bidding luck and chocolate to those setting off on their journeys. Soon enough Jason and Cass exchanged the last two pages, nodded to each other, and left.