Chapter Text
Welcome, Dear Reader, to the universe where Dan is reincarnated as TimKon’s clone baby. You must be wondering how his life is going at the moment. And, well, you see…
‘Just fucking kill me already…’ thought Dan as his dad, also known as Tim Drake, who is also known as the infamous Robin, who is also currently known as the Unhinged, Single, Teenage Papa chasing a bunch of assassins with his electric Bo staff with a built-in spear.
Said assassins were internally screaming ‘what the fuck’ in their brains with quite the variety and in many different languages. They expected Robin to be Calm. Collected. Gritty and Growly as his mentor, the Batman. What they didn’t expect is for him to jump out a 7-story window with a battle cry, and death threats on his lips. It came to a point where one of them had to throw their weakest link (RIP, Malik. Your sacrifice will be remembered) towards the maniac to give them time to escape into the shadows.
But for some reason, the shadows must be against them. Because the moment they made it into an alleyway, THERE TIM DRAKE WAS standing even more menacingly than the Dark Knight himself. IN BROAD DAYLIGHT. (One of the assassins may have peed their pants.)
So, now, Dan is currently being held at the very back in one of the assassins’ arms, as if he were a football. He was bored, and feeling second-hand embarrassment for the ninjas that dared kidnap him in his dad’s apartment while his dad was making his favorite (and please note the sarcasm in this) banana mash. He could feel the fear from the assassin that was holding him, mostly because of the trembling the assassin couldn’t seem to mask.
Not like they have any reason to mask their fear from a baby.
“You… You cannot stop us, Robin!” a poor, foolish assassin stuttered. “The Master’s orders will be carried out!”
His dad didn’t answer, only stepping forward and causing all the assassins to step back. The fear and trembling had intensified.
And, well, Dan was feeling a liiiiiiiiiittle bit worried for his own safety. Not because his dad was scary. His dad’s murder face is actually pretty cool. No, it was because the assassin holding him might drop him, and Dan currently has a fragile state of being.
And so, Dan opened his mouth, and said, “Babababuuuu!!!” while waving a fist in their air, which translated to, ‘Dad, get me the fuck out of here, please!’
His dad smiled, which looked frightening to all the assassins present, but comforting to Dan who knew that his dad will save him. “Don’t worry, Little Star,” his dad said, with the gentle voice that made Dan relax in the assassin’s trembling arm. “Dad’s gonna get you in five seconds.”
5…
Dan grinned.
4…
The assassins prepared their weapons.
3…
His dad disappeared from their sights. If they were a bit more calm and had a bit more awareness, they’d notice that he actually just used misdirection, making them concentrate on the Bo staff his let go so he could jump out of their sights. He was currently, and stealthily, hanging onto the railing beside them, and quickly bringing out a spare Bo.
2…
Before any of the ninjas could look to his direction, his dad used his Bo to smack them all at once, leaving the assassin holding him left.
His dad raised a brow.
1…
The assassin made the smart decision and handed Dan back to his dad.
“Ababababa!!!” said Dan, which translated to, ‘Fucking finally!! Took you long enough!’
0.
His dad smiled as he held him, before kicking the assassin into unconsciousness. There were now tens of assassins on the ground, either unconscious or playing dead. Neither father nor son cared.
Once it was obvious that none of the assassins were getting back up, his dad snuggled into him, causing Dan to whine and huff, patting his dad’s cheeks to make him stop.
Sadly, his dad did not stop, and went on to kiss his forehead, the top of his fluffy hair, and hug him a bit tighter.
‘Stooooooooooopppp!!!’ said Dan, but it came out as a really long whine.
And his dad chuckled, CHUCKLED, at the misfortune he’s causing him.
Little Dan would like you to know that he is not pouting. His chubby cheeks were not puffed out, and his little baby arms were NOT trying to push his dad’s face away.
“Yes, yes,” his dad said, smiling in amusement. He was now carrying Dan with one arm and bringing a phone out. “I’ll stop now. Let me just call someone to clean this mess up.”
The phone began ringing, and Dan wondered who his dad was calling to get rid of the tenth batch of assassins this month. Last time, it was a pretty lady named Helena. And before her, it was some dude named Lonnie (he didn’t like Lonnie. The man seemed to think talking about philosophy and the downfall of capitalism is a form of flirting. Which. NO. That twink Dorito man needs to stay away). And before Lonnie, it was some woman called Sandra. (Who ALSO wanted to get into his dad’s pants. Why is his dad attracting weird fruitloops?!?!)
Out of everyone his dad called in the past, Dan liked Helena. She’s like his dad’s older sister that was willing to desecrate the assassins in acid. And if she did, Dan had no qualms about it.
Unfortunately, Helena wasn’t available for today. Dan doesn’t really care about the weirdos, they have their own things going on. But he knows that Helena was caught up with some Vigilante missions.
Honestly, his dad needed to get better security. Better yet, his dad needed to stop antagonizing whoever is sending these assassins to their place. They just moved into a new apartment! Now they have to look for a new one!
This batch wasn’t even that great. In fact, it seemed like every new batch becomes less and less skilled than the previous ones.
The phone was answered.
“FUCK YOU, TIM!!”
‘Oh, it’s Uncle Jason,’ Dan realized.
His dad smiled at Dan’s comrade in cussing, and replied. “Hey, brother.”
Little Dan could imagine the other man physically shuddering.
“The fuck do you want?!” his uncle asked, sounding disgusted.
Dan and his dad smiled at each other.
“Well, do you need a new collection of dismembered heads?” his dad asked. “Because there are… eleven… ah, no, nineteen bodies in the alleyway me and Dan are in.”
One of the assassins flinched.
‘Ah, so some of them ARE playing dead,’ thought Dan, who happily received the shock button his dad handed to him. Dan then proceeded to throw, albeit clumsily, the button to the ninja that flinched, and it electrocuted the assassin into true unconsciousness.
His dad kissed his forehead in praise.
“The fuck do you mean there are bodies in an alley?” his uncle demanded, sounding exasperated, tired and annoyed.
“Do you really need specifics?” his dad asked. “Don’t you need, like, bait or something for your next operations? There’s fresh bait right here. And you can have them! No questions asked!”
One of the assassins may be silently crying near the dumpster over there.
It was quiet on the other side.
And then, his uncle sighed, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuckkkkkkkk…”
Dan replied in solidarity, “Buck.” Because fuck indeed. His uncle may be running out of space in his personal morgue. Or, maybe the acid vats aren’t as acidic anymore. His uncle had been one of the first people his dad called when the first batches of assassins appeared, after all. Maybe he wasn’t able to get rid of the first few just yet.
It was at this moment Dan realized that his dad was gaping. Gaping at him. In HORROR.
‘The fuck did I even do?!’ wondered Dan, which came out as a confused, “Awawawawu?”
“Oh, fu—udge,” said his uncle. “I… uh… I should probably hang up---“
“Hang up this call,” began his dad, menacingly, and causing a few more assassins to answer the call of nature, “and you WILL find viruses even Oracle won’t be able to remove.”
“DON’T YOU DARE—“
“OH, I DARE!” his dad shouted back. “A baby’s first word is them calling their parent, usually their mom because ‘mama’ is just easy to say. BUT THEN MY BABY CUSSES—“
“YOU NEVER EVEN TRIED TO STOP ME!”
“I DID.” And yeah, his dad did. During those first few days when uncle Jason still couldn’t believe that his dad had the ability to procreate. Dan wonders how his uncle will react to his mom being a test tube. “YOU NEVER STOPPED!” his dad continued his yelling.
The conversation was now getting ridiculous, and Dan was getting hungry. So, he smacked his dad’s cheek with a pout. “Nananana!!” he said, which translated to, ‘I want my banana mash!’
Of course, it’s not always his dad is smart enough to understand what Dan is saying. Because his dad was pouting.
POUTING.
“No, Dan, baby, don’t defend your uncle,” he said, his face pathetically close to tears.
Dan huffed. ‘I’m not defending that fucker!’ but his words came out as, ‘Eh-wawawa-buck-a!’
And Dan realized that he should probably shut up, because now his dad was gaping even more in horror.
It was quiet. No one made a sound. Not even his uncle Jason who was on the other side of the line. No car passed by. No teen was gossiping loudly. No late businessman was cursing loudly about waking up late.
It was just dreadful quiet.
Until one of the assassins coughed, which caused a reaction of his dad tazing the assassin with his Bo.
His dad then glared at his phone. “After getting rid of the bodies, you are coming with me to the League of Assassins.”
His uncle loudly protested.
“The. LEAGUE. Of. ASSASSINS,” his dad emphasized, glare harsher than before. “This way, I’d stop having to call you and corrupting my son’s vocabulary any more.”
‘Unfortunately for you, dad, my vocabulary’s corrupted even before I was born here,’ thought Dan, who gave out an exasperated (but it only sounded sad), “Awuuu…”
“See, Timmy?” said his uncle. “Your kid loves me too much to want to let me go.” Then, annoyingly, his uncle switched to his Baby Voice TM. “You wanna spend more time with Uncle Jason, Danny?”
Dan scrunched his nose, which made his dad smile in victory.
“HA!” his dad smugly yelled. “He doesn’t want you.”
His uncle huffed. “Maybe that was my plan!”
“Maybe you’re just jealous!”
Dan was getting really hungry now. So, he smacked his dad’s cheek again. “DADA! OO-DAAAAAAH!!!!”
Little, baby Dan is HUNGRY and really wants his food. He wanted his mashed bananas. And extra milk. He deserved it for having to endure this stupid conversation between his dad and his uncle. Honestly.
But his dad. His Dad.
His DAD began shitting tears from his eyes. And, Dear Reader, you must know, Tim Drake is the ugliest crier on the planet. It's like his face takes on a whole different shape when the waterworks start falling. It only takes a special sort of people (*cough*Dick Grayson*cough*) to actually see this crying face as cute or adorable. But because this young man is his dad, Dan had no choice but to love his dad and his ugly crying face.
Unfortunately, Dan is still hungry.
‘Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugggghhhhhhhh… Fuck it,’ Dan thought, and began crying as well.
“Dan, baby, don’t cry! Don’t cry!! Daddy’s just so proud of you!”
“Ugh, Pretender, please. Don’t… don’t call yourself that.”
“UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
“HE CALLED ME DADAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”
And so, Dear Reader, Jason hangs up. It also takes thirty minutes for them to get home, and for Dan to get his mashed bananas and two bottles of warm milk.
“Master, it is Malik,” said an assassin who was hidden in an alleyway, observing the father and son in their home with his heat vision goggles.
“Speak,” his Master, Ra’s al Ghul, replied.
“The clone-child does not seem to be exhibiting any powers related to Superboy,” he reports. “However, he does seem to have inherited Robin’s intelligence.”
“His powers may not have manifested just yet,” mused Ra’s. “Anything more to add?”
“None so far, Master,” said the assassin.
“Very well,” said Ra’s. “Continue observing them until further orders.”
With that, the line cut.
Also with that, it was through training that the assassin gained the instinct to jump away from the body that seemingly landed behind him.
“Malik, right?” the voice asked.
The last thing the assassin saw was a red ‘S’.