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Chapter Text

It was an accident.

DOVE, once an underground organization that strove for peace (not really), had fallen into disgrace and become an organization that strove for violence. Their mission? Get rid of all metahumans in the world (that was their original goal, they just finally decided to call their “relocation program” genocide). 

“I swear to whatever higher power is up there…” Phoenix muttered, hiding behind a stack of crates to avoid getting shot at. 

Batman quickly dragged his brother, Robin, out of the line of fire; narrowly missing the first laser by a centimeter. “Easy Fire-Bird,” Batman chided, “we don’t need you bursting into flames.” He and Robin quickly jumped onto a skywalk, barreling into a group of guards and sending them tumbling to another skywalk below.

“Wouldn’t that make our job easier?” Robin asked, throwing a birdarang at a nearby guard and knocking the gun out of his hands. 

“With a bunch of flammable materials around?” Magpie quipped, quickly swooping down and sending a few guards flying, “No, we don’t need a repeat of last time.” His wings quickly vanished as he brandished his bostaff. 

“It was one time,” Phoenix hissed into her comlink. 

Currently, the 4 vigilantes were locked in combat with a few dozen guards from DOVE in one of the abandoned warehouses on the abandoned side of Gotham; a perfect place for crime to run rampant around the city. Earlier in the day, Oracle caught wind of the news of a deadly weapon that the flawed organization. Batman and his crew’s objective? Destroy the weapon before it can be used. Unfortunately, nothing can be that easy because the large mass of metal has been turned on and buzzed with unused energy. 

Batman caught sight of Phoenix in the corner of his eye, her red-and-orange suit hard to miss. She quickly disarmed a stray guard and pinned him to the ground before rushing over to the machine. 

“You won’t be able to turn it off from there,” a female voice informed from the intercoms. 

“Oh shut up Holly.” Robin spat, punching a guard and kicking him away. 

“Save your breath.” Batman retorted. 

Holly Winters, the current leader of DOVE. Granddaughter of the infamous Nichole Adams, a ruthless villain who had terrorized the world of mutants for more than 50 years, Holly just wanted to finish what her grandmother had started. 

“Humor me,” Phoenix snarled, tinkering with the computer at the base of the machine. 

“I will,” Holly chirped happily. 

The machine’s buzzing began to quicken. 

“Shit!” Magpie yelped getting thrown to the ground by a very muscled guard. Batman threw a batarang toward the guy in hopes it would distract him enough for the younger boy to scramble away. 

“If my brother dies, I’m coming for you Holly,” Phoenix muttered.

“Remember the no-killing rule?” Robin shot back. 

“Fuck that, you know one of my dads could give less of a shit.” 

“Fun.”

“Buh-bye!” Holly giggled, the voice of the intercom suddenly becoming garbled as the rotating top of the machine began to spin even faster. 

“Guys, I think this thing is about to blow,” Phoenix warned. 

“What makes you think that?” Batman scoffed, watching the top of the machine glow blue. 

“That’s not good.” Robin commented, “We should go.” 

“Good idea.”

“Pheonix! Let’s go!” Magpie shouted, quickly running over to the nearest open window of the warehouse they were fighting in. 

“I have to shut this thing down! We don’t know what it’s capable of!” 

“Then I’m not leaving!” 

“Get out of here.” Batman ordered his little brother, “Now.”

“But–”

“Now Matthew, see if you can get to Batwoman in time.” 

Batman didn’t let Robin respond as he quickly glided over to the siblings on the bottom floor. His brother watched anxiously from the skywalk of the building; nevertheless, he left through the open window. 

“She’s right,” Phoenix gasped, her hands full of wires from the machine’s control panel. “I can’t shut this thing off, not without blowing the entire 10-mile radius into bits.” 

The blue light grew bigger and the wind began to pick up. Crates began to creep toward the swirling mass while lighter items flew right into it, followed by an unpleasant zap.

“Do you think that’ll burn us alive?” Magpie wondered, holding the corners of his black hood down. 

“Just pray that thing is portal,” the girl pointed out, her curly black hair covering most of her face. 

“Okay, but where will it take us?” Batman asked. 

“Shut the fuck up, Terry.”

“It was nice knowing you guys.” 

“I wonder if Matt will delete our browser history once we’re dead.” 

“He better.” 

The three collectively stared at the blue portal, watching it get even bigger. 

Then it all went blue. 

Chapter Text

Terry woke up just in time to avoid being flattened by a falling crate. 

Not wasting a second, he quickly rolled out of the way and jumped onto his feet. His heart pounded against his chest and blood roared through his ears. The crate smashed into pieces, wood flying everywhere and the latest model of cell phones poured out of the wreckage. 

“Close one,” Phoenix commented through the clutter, kicking away a few rats that decided to check her out. 

“Where are we?” Magpie wondered, removing his hood to allow himself a better look at the warehouse. 

A warehouse that looked fully stocked and not abandoned. 

“My guess, a different dimension or the past.” Terry sighed, lifting himself up. 

“I’ll check,” the boy offered, “there might be an office somewhere…”

Phoenix quickly shucked off her mask, “It’s not damaged…” she muttered. 

“What is?” 

Cindy tossed Terry her orange domino mask, “My mask, it’s not working as it should. Check yours, maybe it’s just a me thing.” 

“No,” Magpie chirped, dusting himself off, “mine isn’t working either. Neither are the coms.” 

“Hm, they might’ve been damaged when the portal sucked us in,” Terry concluded, noting how his cowl glitched oddly. Figuring that it wouldn’t be of use for the time being, he took it off. 

“Great,” the other teen muttered. 

Magpie wandered off, presumably to find any clues on their location while Terry and Cindy made their way to the roof of the warehouse. 

“Woah…” 

The teens stared in awe at the city in front of them: Gotham. Only it wasn’t their Gotham. The buildings were smaller, similar to the historical district that Bruce insisted on being kept the same instead of remodeling it. 

“Is– Is that a car?!” Cindy exclaimed, pointing at a brown vehicle with wheels. 

Terry gaped, “No way.”

“I think we’re in the past, Terry.” Cindy murmured, “The only question is, when in the past are we?” 

“2023,” Milo answered, materializing next to them while holding a tablet. “There are actual tablets! Tablets and computers like the ones Baba and Otou-san used to use when they were kids!” he exclaimed. 

Cindy quickly snatched the tablet from her brother’s hands and turned it on, “Shway!” 

Terry loomed over her shoulder, trying to see the outdated piece of technology in her hands. 

“This means Bruce is still Batman,” Cindy whispered excitedly “and Uncle Dick is Nightwing! Uncle Jason is Red Hood, Tim is Red Robin and Baba is–”

Her smile faltered. 

“12,” Milo finished, “Baba is 12.” 

The three stood in silence, taking in all the information. 

“So what do we do now?” Terry asked. 

“Um, I mean that Batcave never moved locations.” Milo suggested, “We could go there.” 

“I lost my grappling hook during the fight,” the older teen muttered.

Cindy shook her head, “As did I. Plus, Briston is really far without the Batmobile and I doubt the buses would take change from the future.” 

Milo huffed, “So we’re stuck.” 

Terry ran his fingers through his hair. It was dark, so that meant the Batfamily would be out on patrol. “Hey, Milo, what time is it?”

“9:23, why?” 

“Do you think the GPD changed their location?” Terry questioned, grinning. 

Cindy quickly caught on, smirking as well, “Doubt it.” 

. . . .

“I sure hope you three know what you’re doing.” Commissioner Gordon sighed, turning on the Bat-signal. 

It had taken a while to convince Aunt Barbra’s father that they were from the future, but what sealed the deal was recollecting the events leading up to the Joker shooting Aunt Bab. 

“I assure you, we do Commissioner,” Phoenix said, resting her hand on his shoulder and giving him a comforting squeeze. “Sorry,” she apologized, “it’s just that Aunt- er- Babarba talks highly of you.” 

Jim adjusted his glasses, “You don’t say?” 

“She does,” Batman confirmed, his voice slightly husky. That habit was more on impulse, especially since he had no one who could recognize his voice since he wasn’t even born yet. Hell, he didn’t even need to use his cowl but he still put it on for old times’ sake. “You’re a good man, and she wants to keep your memory alive.” 

Jim sadly smiled, “I’m just glad my Bab’s living a happy life in the future.” 

Okay, they might have also used a little magic (Milo’s courtesy) to help convince them, but it was just a little. If anyone could help the trio return to their timeline, it had to be the Batfamily (more specifically Uncle Tim, but the rest could probably help.)

Milo stared at the sky, “Do you think he’s bringing Robin with him?” 

“Of course he will.” 

Cindy shrieked in surprise as Milo flinched and ran behind Terry for cover. 

Robin stood beside a brooding Batman, the original Batman. He had his hood on covering his furrowed brow. How the hell Batman managed to sneak behind them was a mystery, especially since Milo and Cindy once held the mantle of Robin. 

“Gordon,” Batman the first growled, “what is the meaning of this? Who are these kids?” 

He glanced at Terry, “Who are you?” he asked accusingly. 

Holy shit, Bruce as Batman was fucking terrifying. He suddenly felt bad for all the petty thugs who had to deal with an angry Batman. 

Terry cleared his throat, “Er– I’m Batman, Mr. Batman? Well, I’m from the future.” 

Robin scoffed, “You expect us to believe that?” 

Batman looked at Jim Gordon, “Why did you turn on the Bat-signal, Gordon?” 

“They… They knew about Babs, about you, about everyone.” he whispered, “Even if they aren’t from the future, you might want to hear them out.” 

Robin tsked, “Sure, and I’m the Riddler.” 

“Robin,” Batman growled. 

“Magpie here is related to you!” Phoenix exclaimed, “You can check his DNA!” 

“Way to throw me under the bus,” Magpie muttered. 

“I’m sorry!” she whispered back. 

The three had already agreed that they would not be telling anyone about the future under any circumstances. Of course, Cindy, the one who proposed the idea as they trekked the long walk to the GPD would be the first one to break it. 

Terry sighed, this was going to be a long night. 

Chapter Text

Batman sat before the Batcomputer’s screen, brooding in its blue light. The three strangers weren’t lying, there was no doubt with the evidence of Magpie’s DNA. Magpie was definitely related to Bruce, albeit he wasn’t his son (thankfully); but when he mentioned this newfound information, Milo and Cindy warily glanced at Terry.

Still, Bruce couldn’t believe he allowed someone other than Cass or Damian to take on the mantle of Batman. 

He sent Damian out on patrol with Dick, mostly to prevent his youngest son from scarring the three for life. A tiny and angry 12-year-old with a katana? No, that would traumatize anyone. 

Figuring that Kate, Cass, Jason, Dick, and Damian could handle patrol themselves, Bruce decided that he should at least try to get to know the three teens. 

. . . 

“So basically, the bitch–”

“Miss Cindy, I do have to ask you to refrain from swearing.” Alfred chided, setting down a bowl of cookie batter. 

“Holly,” Cindy corrected, setting down a baking sheet next to Alfred, “activated this machine that opened a portal. So Terry had to send Matt-”

“Who’s Matt?” Bruce asked, walking into the kitchen. He surveyed the scene, Terry was in the pantry looking for something while Milo looked at the microwave in awe. All three of them still had their suits on, but had donned off their masks. 

“My little brother,” Terry answered, poking his out of the pantry, “he’s also my Robin.” 

“Ah,” 

“An actual, old-fashioned microwave…” Milo murmured. 

“Baba and Otou-san aren’t that old,” Cindy scoffed, catching the roll of parchment paper that Terry tossed to her. 

Alfred poured Bruce a cup of coffee, “Two dads?” Bruce wondered. 

“Yes, I can see the family resemblance from here.” Alfred chuckled, gesturing to Milo and his spiky hair. 

“Damian.” Bruce thought. 

He was more concerned about Damian inheriting the “adopting random orphans on impulse” gene than anything really. Seeing as how Cindy and Milo called each other siblings, but looking nothing like each other. 

“You’re… part Japanese, right?” 

Milo nodded at Bruce, “Cindy has Australian blood, I think. Otou-san found her in a dumpster.”

Cindy threw a spoon at him, which Milo narrowly dodged. “Shut up Minoru!” she hissed. 

“Miss Cindy! We do not throw cutlery!” Alfred scolded. 

“Sorry Alfred!” she squeaked. 

“The entire family is weird,” Terry informed, carrying a bag of chocolate chips, “Like Milo and Cindy’s other father used to be a villain.”

“Terry!” The two yelped in unison. 

“Oops–” he spluttered, dropping the bag near the cookie batter bowl. 

“Excuse me?” now Bruce was really worried. Damian really shouldn’t have possessed the “attracted to criminals” gene from him.

“It’s nothing!” Cindy insisted, totally ignoring how Milo began chasing Terry around with a rolling pin. “Otou-san gave up the criminal life a long time ago.”

“Not. Helping!” 

“I’ll shut up now–”

Alfred let out an amused sigh as he began pouring a cup of chocolate chips into the batter, “My, my, look how much we’re learning today.”

Bruce began to rub his temples from the info overload, “Is that all? Or are you going to tell me that one of you is related to a warlock?”

The three went deadly silent. 

“Oh God.” Bruce groaned. 

“So back to the story!” Cindy exclaimed, eager to switch the topic, “We got sucked into this giant portal and passed out. Next thing I know, we’re in the same warehouse, but in the past! Where you’re not old!” 

Alfred listened to Cindy as he began to roll out the dough to make cookies. 

Milo sat beside Bruce, staring at him with wide eyes. At first glance, you could hardly see the similarities between him and Damian; but, upon further inspection, Bruce could see his son in Milo. 

“So, are the cookies for the rest of the family when they get back from patrol?” Terry asked as he began to help Alfred. 

“I figured that tonight’s patrol would come in hungry,” Alfred said, putting the cookies onto the baking sheet.

“Who’s on patrol tonight?” Cindy wondered. 

“Dick, Damian, Cass, Kate, Jason–”

“Uncle Jason?!” Cindy squealed, “Is he coming over?! I have to meet the legend himself when he was young!” 

“Schway! Do you think he’d show us some of his old-fashioned guns?” Milo wondered excitedly. 

“I hope he does,” Terry grinned, putting the sheet into the oven, “I’m more excited to see the earlier versions of his helmet.” 

. . . 

When Matt finally found Cassandra, he didn’t even have to say anything before she scooped him up and threw him into the Batmobile before getting in herself and zooming over to the Batcave. 

Now he stood in front of Bruce. 

“What happened?” Bruce grunted, tinkering with the computer. “I can’t reach the rest of your patrol.” 

“Terry– He– Holly–” Matt couldn’t get the words out. His mind raced with the many possibilities of what happened to the three the moment Terry ordered him to leave. 

Cass placed her gloved hand on Matt’s shoulder in an act of comfort, “Think, then speak.” she seemed to say. 

Okay, what did Bruce need to know? He needed to know why Terry, Cin, and Milo weren’t responding to his coms. Why? Because the stupid machine Holly turned on probably killed them. How did they get into this situation in the first place? They were on a mission– Wait, it was Cindy’s mission. She usually never patrols at night unless she conducts a heist. So when he, Terry, and Milo went out for patrol and stumbled upon Cindy, they offered to help. Cassandra and Stephanie were fine with it and continued on with their patrol. 

“We were helping Cindy out with a lead,” Matt began, finding his words, “Steph and Cass said it was okay so we went out to an abandoned warehouse in the historical district.” 

Bruce got up and reached out for his cane, “And?”

“There’s this machine that was considered dangerous, so Cindy needed to destroy it before anyone got hurt.”

Matt heard shuffling, and he gulped. He really hoped that he wasn’t here right now.

“We were ambushed by some guards, and Holly turned on the machine. It started making this really awful buzzing sound and it glowed blue. Terry told me to leave and I did–” he choked up, “I heard them talk before their com lines just stopped working.”

Bruce now stood in front of him, grimacing. “I’ll send Steph to check out the damage,” 

“It’s going to be okay,” Cass spoke, softly squeezing his shoulder. She had removed her cowl at some point, allowing her short black hair to frame her face. 

“Okay?” A voice choked out in disbelief. 

Akira stormed over, adjusting his green cloak over his shoulders. “My kids could be dead for fucks sake.” he hissed. 

“Easy Akira,” Bruce warned, “you don’t want to be doing something stupid and getting hurt.”

“Hurt?” the younger man scoffed, adjusting his mask, “I can deck at least 3 of your kids in a fight, don’t tell me that I’ll get hurt.” 

“To be fair, you can’t beat Dick in a fight.” Matt pointed out. 

“Yet,” Akira retorted as he got on his hover-motorcycle, “Tell Steph to wait up, I’m going with her.” 

“I’m going with,” the boy said, “Terry’s my brother, I have to make sure he’s okay.” 

Akira gestured for Matt to hop on. 

Cass fitted her cowl over her head again before walking off to the Batmobile, “Returning to patrol.” she announced before closing the door. 

“Don’t do anything stupid, please.” Bruce sighed. 

“No promises.” 

As the two vehicles zoomed out of the Batcave, the former vigilante’s shoulders slumped, “I’m getting too old to deal with this.” 

Chapter Text

The entire warehouse looked as if a herd of elephants stormed in. Anything that didn’t happen to be strapped or bolted onto the floor was scattered all over the room, creating a terrible mess that made it hard to find Terry, Cindy, and Milo. 

“Damn,” Spoiler murmured, shifting through the wreckage surrounding the machine (which currently lay in a state of disrepair of exposed wires, melted metal, and oozing radiation). “This is terribly built machine.”

“You can say that again.” Reaper chirped through the comlink, “I found the blueprints of this thing. This thing is a laser–”

“Are you saying my brother got vaporized?!” Robin shrieked, “Oh God! What am I going to tell my mom?! Do I hand her Terry’s ashes?!” he frantically began to search through the mess for the remains of his brother. 

Spoiler gently grabbed Matthew by the shoulders and pulled him close to her before wrapping her arms around him, “Chill Matt-Bat,” 

“As I was saying–” Reaper continued, “the laser should’ve stopped lasering the moment the ray made any contact with organic material.”

“Well, seeing as the entire warehouse is covered in radiation, I don’t think the laser lasered right.” Spoiler commented. 

“There could’ve been an explosion,” Robin retorted mournfully, pointing at the destroyed laser. 

“If there happened to be an explosion, the entire warehouse would have been blown to bits.”

The preteen paused, taking the information into consideration. 

“The laser malfunctioned,” Spoiler concluded. 

“Which means Terry, Cin, and Milo are alive.”
Matt's knees nearly gave out in relief, “Great. Where are they? Did they find their way back to the Batcave?”

“Bruce would’ve told us if they were with him,” Spoiler pointed out, fishing out a Batarang from the wreckage. 

“Something’s off,” Reaper murmured, “I’m going to regroup with you then we’re going to Tim’s. He’s smart enough to know what went wrong with this thing.”

“Shouldn’t you tell Damian that Milo and Cindy are missing before he finds out himself?” Spoiler queried. 

Reaper inhaled sharply, “I wouldn’t want to stress him out more than he already is.”

Matt knew that was code for: “My husband is like five minutes away from killing someone and I really don’t want him to do that.” 

“Yikes. Welp, to Tim’s we go.”

. . . . 

“How come I’m not the favorite?!” Dick whined, watching mournfully as the time-travelers fawn over Jason. 

Damian clicked his tongue, “Are you sure that they’re related to us, Father?”

Bruce grunted, “I checked Milo’s DNA, he’s my grandson.”

“Grandson?” Cass chirped from the corner, her dark eyes glinting with curiosity. 

“Who’s the father?” Jason asked, continuing the rest of Cass’s unsaid question. He stared at Milo strangely. 

“Alfred and I have our suspicions.” Bruce mused, glancing over to Damian. 
Terry sat by Cassandra, wearing Jason’s helmet. “This is so fucking cool.” 

“Language, Master Terry.” Alfred chided, placing the leftover cookies in the cookie jar.

“Sorry Alfred.” 

Cassandra nodded in agreement, “Makes voice scary.”

“How do you even turn on the voice modifier?” Cindy wondered. She got up from her seat and walked over to Terry and Cass. “Hey, Auntie.”

Cass beamed. 

“There’s a little switch– hold on, I’ll show you.” Jason gently passed Milo to Dick before walking over to the corner. 

“Who’s Batman in the future?” Dick asked the boy. 

Milo’s face scrunched up, “I don’t think there’s any harm in telling you…” 

“Terry was the one in the other Batman suit, correct?” Damian commented. 

“He’s Batman of Gotham, but Cassandra is also Batman– er, well Batwoman but you get the idea.” 

A happy gasp rang out from the corner. 

“Should’ve seen that coming…” Bruce mumbled. 

Alfred softly chuckled, “Now don’t make that face Master Damian, I’m sure the future has something great planned out for you” 

The pouting 12-year-old looked at Milo, who now stood beside him. “So who am I in the future?”
Milo politely ignored his question. 

“Welp, I’m going to return to my apartment, Bab’s probably waiting for me.” Dick announced, grabbing his coat and ruffling Damian’s hair, “You coming, Jay?” 

“Yeah, I have a thing with the Outlaws tomorrow,” Jason responded, getting up from his spot and cracking his back. 

Terry sadly gave Jason his helmet back, “It was nice seeing you.” he said. 

“I’ll be back, don’t worry Batman of the Future.” the older man joked. 

Terry smiled back, “Sure, and visit Bruce more. He becomes a grumpy old man later in life.”

“Sure sounds like him,” Dick snickered, opening the door for Jason and closing it behind him; hence, leaving Bruce, Alfred, Damian, Cass, Milo, Terry, and Cindy alone. 

Bruce rolled his eyes, “I’m not that grumpy, right?” he asked Alfred. 

“I will neither confirm nor deny that information Master Bruce.” the butler hummed. 

Cindy yawned, “I’m beat. Do you guys stay up all night or–?”

“Sleep is for the weak,” Damian growled. 

The siblings shared a knowing glance that easily translated to: “Since when did he become a stickler for bedtime?”

“I’m fairly sure some of Miss Stephanie’s clothes will fit you, Miss Cindy. As well, I think Master Milo and Master Damian are of similar size–”

Damian interrupted Alfred’s train of thought with a sharp Tt.

“And Master Terry could fit into some of Master Dick’s clothes. I shall see what I can do.”

Cass latched onto Cindy’s arm, “Share room.”

“She seems fond of you,” Terry commented.

“I was her Robin for like– 3 years?” Cindy retorted. 

Cass grinned widely, “Robin?”

“Yeah, I lasted wayyyy longer than Milo.”

“It was for a year.” the boy hissed, his face red, “And I thought we agreed that we weren’t supposed to tell anyone about their future!”

“You started it!” Cindy protested. 

“How could either of you two be Robin?” Damian asked, crossing his arms and glaring at the two. 

“Not now Da–” Milo coughed loudly, trying to cover up his mistake. 

Terry loudly clapped his hands together, “We should get some sleep.” 

Bruce sighed, “This is going to be a long night.” he muttered, rubbing his temples. 

Chapter Text

My Tumblr :>

~~~

Cindy: Trying to fill out legal paperwork stuff Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?
Terry: Bold of you to assume I was born at all.
Milo: I personally was created in a lab.
Matt: I just straight up spawned lol.

Fun fact, Milo was indeed born in a lab

~~~

Cop: You’re receiving a ticket for having three people on one motorcycle.
Cindy: Shit.
Terry: Wait, three?
Cop: Yeah?
Milo: OH MY GOD MATT FELL OFF!!!

~~~

Cindy: Remember that time you dared me to lick a swingset?
Terry: No, I said "Cindy, don't lick that swingset" and you said "Don't tell me what to do" and licked the swingset.

~~~

Matt: My goal is not to be the best, but to inspire someone enough to one day surpass me.
Terry: YOU CAN'T JUST SAY THAT EVERY TIME YOU BEAT ME AT CONNECT FOUR!

~~~

Cindy: Why can’t we all just get along?
Milo: Because most of us are assholes, Cindy.

~~~

Matt: For self-defense reasons, I'm going to pretend to be a burglar and you guys have to act wisely.
Terry, Cindy, & Milo: Okay.
Matt: If you don't want to die, give me all your money.
Terry: Bold of you to assume I have money.
Cindy: Bold of you to assume I don't want to die.
Milo: Bold of you to assume I can die.

~~~

Terry: I told Matt that his ears turn red when he lies.
Cindy: Do they?
Terry: No.
Cindy: Then why did you tell him that?
Terry: Because I can do this.
Terry: Hey Matt! Do you love us?
Matt, with his hands over his ears: No.

~~~

Terry: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Chapter Text

“The manor looked significantly different when multiple people inhabited it,” Milo noted as he roamed the halls. 

The hallway felt familiar, but it felt off. Milo had grown accustomed to his grandfather’s barren and dusty manor, with every fancy piece of furniture covered by a white cloth. This hallway felt lively, filled with memories of children running and laughing— and probably the memories of chasing each other with dangerous weapons. 

Situations like these made Milo wonder what really happened between his father and grandfather. Why did Damian Al Ghul-Wayne return to the League? 

When he first saw Bruce Wayne without the cowl, his heart nearly skipped a beat because he looked nearly identical to his Baba (er– well, technically his Baba looked nearly identical to his grandfather).

“Okay, I think I’m lost.”

He sighed in defeat as he looked around the hallway; all he wanted was a glass of water! Apparently, he didn’t know Wayne Manor as well as he thought he did. 

///////

“Grandpa?” Milo called out, wandering around the empty manor. For an old man, he sure knew how to move around quickly. It’s not like he wanted to be here in the first place, but Otou-san couldn’t take him to work and he was too sick to attend school. Aunt Cass left the country for a mission, Uncle Duke was too busy with work, and Tim’s family was currently on vacation. 

So that left Grandpa Bruce in charge of taking care of him. Not that Milo minded, but his grandpa brooded all the time, stuck in the past. Also, the manor was too damn cold all the time. 

“Woof!” 

“Ace!” Milo squealed, wiping his runny nose with his sleeve. “There you are! I was getting worried. Can you take me to Grandpa please?” He approached the large dog and gave him a few loving pets. 

Ace appeared to like that and nuzzled his leg before seemingly gesturing for Milo to follow him. It only took a few minutes for the large dog to lead him to the kitchen; Bruce stood before the stove squinting at an empty can of tomato soup while a small pot simmered. 

“Grandpa?” Milo chirped before loudly sneezing into his elbow. 

“Ah, Milo. I was about to find you,” he grunted, setting the can down. 

“What are you doing?” He wondered, taking note of the tomato smell in the air. 

Bruce grabbed a bowl from the cupboard (which was faded and cracked with age) and set it down on the counter beside him. “Making you lunch, I figured you might be hungry.” 

He approached the counter and grabbed the can, “Instant Soup.” Milo read. 

“I can’t cook. Been relying on Cass, Duke, or Tim for actual meals. Sorry kid.” 

The 9-year-old shrugged, “That’s fine Grandpa. It’s the thought that counts.”

Bruce grunted again before looking at him, “How are you feeling now?”

“Better, my throat still hurts though.”

His calloused hand gently touched Milo’s forehead to check his temperature, “You feel less warm than last time. I think your fever is breaking.” Bruce returned to the soup and turned off the heat. 

“Do you make instant soup often?” the boy asked, walking to the silverware drawer and fishing out a small spoon. 

His grandfather responded with another grunt, which Milo took as a yes. He sat down at the dusty table and Bruce set a hot bowl of soup in front of him. He studied the man in front of him, down to the large scar that ran down his face. 

“You look like your father, you know.” Bruce mused, leaning against his cane. 

“I know,” Milo chirped, “Baba says I look a lot like Otou-san.”

The older man smirked and took a seat next to Milo, “I was talking about Damian, you two have the same look in your eyes.”

He felt his flush, “Oh. I didn’t know that.” 

“Does Damian tell you that you look like Akira a lot?”

“Yeah, he does.” Milo blew at his soup and took a tentative sip. “He says I’m lucky I take after Otou-san. Cindy’s the one who takes after Baba even though she’s adopted.” 

Bruce’s brow furrowed, “Really? Why’s that, Milo?”

“Cindy likes fighting, and she’s really good at it! She sees Baba’s vision for the League and wants to take over once Baba thinks she’s ready.”

“Ah, I see.” 

“I don’t wanna fight the way Baba wants me to fight though,” Milo continued. “I wanna be a doctor when I grow up.”

His grandfather almost seemed amused at his words, “My father was a doctor too before–” Bruce shook his head, “never mind. I think I still have some of his stuff in the attic if you want to look at them.”

That immediately caught Milo’s attention, “Really? Do you mean that?!” 

“Of course, I just need to rummage around that dusty old attic for a few hours until I find the right box.”

“Shway! Thank you, Grandpa!” Milo squealed. He wanted to hug his grandfather on the spot, but a coughing fit told him that wasn’t such a wise idea, to begin with, if he didn’t want to get Bruce sick as well.

“Take it easy,” the older man advised, reaching out to ruffle his spiky black hair. 

///////

By some miracle, Milo wandered into the kitchen without setting off any boobytraps— which is a huge accomplishment by the way. Now all he needed was to find a cupboard…

. . . 

If someone had told little Cindy that she would one day become a vigilante, little Cindy would have laughed at their face. She was going to be the next Demon’s Head! She was going to be her father’s successor!

Yet here she was, decades into the past when her father was 12 and Aunt Cass was still Orphan, as a vigilante. Cindy wondered if young Damian would be terrified knowing that he eventually returns to his roots…

“No,” Cindy internally scolded herself, “Don’t think about that. As long as I don’t mention too many things about the past, Baba will never find out.”

Oh, she hated keeping secrets, and she didn’t know how long she’d be stuck in the past. The mere thought of being stuck here forever and perhaps ruining the timeline shook Cindy to her very core. She can’t risk that! She can’t risk the lives of other innocent children because she can’t keep her big mouth shut…

///////

Lightning flashed across the sky in a jagged line, cutting through the inky black clouds like a knife. Rain pounded against the window as if the water wanted to break the glass. The wind howled violently, the fire crackled relentlessly, and branches slammed against the manor on occasion. 

14-year-old Cindy yawned and lowered her pencil onto the carpeted floor below her. She reached out to pet Ace, who decided to act as her personal heater for the night. “I guess I’m not allowed to patrol tonight, huh?” 

Bruce grunted, “Cass wouldn’t want you patrolling in this weather to begin with.” He turned to her, “So might as well study up for that big test you have tomorrow.”

“But that’s so boring!” Cindy whined, rolling onto her back in a dramatic fashion. “I already know everything I need to know!”

“Oh really? What’s the first 100 digits of PI?” Bruce challenged, narrowing his blue eyes at her. 

Cindy coughed awkwardly, “Okay, maybe not *everything*, but in my defense I’m not going to be using PI to solve any cases.”

“Better to be safe than sorry.” 

Ace nuzzled against Cindy as if he were trying to comfort her.

“How come you and Baba stopped talking?” Cindy asked, returning to stroking Ace’s black fur. “I know Otou-san knows, but he won’t tell me; Baba always ignores my questions revolving around you.”

Bruce sighed, “It’s a long story Cindy, but to sum it up, Damian and I didn’t see eye-to-eye anymore.”

“Well, that sums things up.” the girl scoffed, “That leaves way more questions than answers.” 

“Well, you better figure it out, Cindy.” 

“I’d rather take my chances on patrol.” 
“Oh really?” he raised his eyebrow skeptically.

Cindy sulked with annoyance, “Okay, not really. I’ll go back to studying I guess.” 

Bruce grunted, obviously pleased that he won an argument with his 14-year-old granddaughter. 

“How does it feel knowing that your son married a retired villain?”

“Surprisingly, not surprised.”

“Huh. What about knowing that you had grandkids?”

“Okay, well that was a surprise.” Bruce chuckled, fondness flashing in his eyes; a rare occurrence for sure. “But I was even more surprised with the fact that I eventually got to be a part of your life.” 

“I love you too, Gramps.” Cindy teased, watching how Bruce scoffed and (unsuccessfully) suppressed a smile. 

///////

Cindy turned to her aunt’s sleeping figure beside her and studied how peaceful she looked for once. No hard lines and harsh scars strewn across her face. Cassandra Cain was so different in the past before she took on the mantle of Batman/Batwoman. Way before Gotham grew into an unmanageable city. 

Cindy let herself relax and allowed sleep to overcome her. 

. . . 

“Yeah, I know. Please don’t do anything rash— I– Dami, listen— Yes, I know.” Akira sighed, “Don’t enter Gotham in a bloodthirsty rage, please… I love you too, Darin.” 

Damian hung up the phone, leaving Akira all alone on the balcony of Tim’s penthouse. His gut knotted up with anxiety with the idea of Damian storming Gotham with an army of assassins behind him to avenge their possibly dead children. 

“No,” Akira thought, shaking his head, “Minoru, Cindy, and Terry are fine. They have to be– Oh shit, what am I going to tell Terry’s mother? Fuck–”

He pinched the bridge of his nose to alleviate the oncoming headache that would surely keep him up all night. As much as loved Damian, he did wish that his husband wouldn’t be so downright bloodthirsty. Of course, that might be a side-effect of the Lazurus Pit–

A sharp squeal originating from the penthouse caught Akira’s attention. “THEY’RE ALIVE!” Matt shrieked, followed by some crashing. 

Akira had never entered a room so quickly before, “Alive?! Are they okay?!” 

Tim groaned as he collected the scattered papers from his upturned desk— possibly the courtesy of an overly excited Matt. Stephanie hauled the boy up by his armpits, clearly amused, “Tim found a flaw in the laser.”

“The math used to create the beam was absolutely horrendous,” Tim chimed in, “The fuckers couldn’t even add up the numbers correctly.” 

“Meaning?” Akira pressed as he helped Tim clean up his study. 

“DOVE didn’t create a laser, they created a portal. To where? I don’t know, but they’re not dead; well, I hope so. Anything could have gone wrong.”

“Tim!” Stephanie scoffed, “Not helping!” 

“Guys!” Matt cut it, preventing the third argument of the night, “How are we going to get Terry, Cin, and Milo back?” 

Akira completely forgot about that. 

“I doubt we can create another laser,” Tim said, getting up and tossing a stack of papers onto one of his shelves. “Too much money and time, plus we have to take the fact that the laser was powered by radioactive materials; and honestly, I don’t want to deal with the paperwork.” 

“So how do we get them back?!” Matt wailed. His hands flew up to his black hair in distress. 

Clearly, Matthew was distraught.

“I don’t know,” Tim sighed, rubbing his temples. “Magic, maybe.”

Tim’s tone implied that he was being sarcastic, but a lightbulb went off in Akira’s head. 

“I think I know a guy,” Akira announced, a wide grin spreading across his face. 

“Oh god.” Tim groaned. “Anyone but him.”