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It's not as weird as it could be, considering literally everything. He's not sure if you can ever really get used to meeting yourself, but if that's possible, Tim is.
It's of course still strange to look into your own eyes-except they're not his own because this boy is nine and Tim is 18.
The silence ticks on and they don't break eye contact.
"Where are we?“ Timmy asks and Tim realizes that he's not prepared for this. Sure, he can fight older, -and concerningly often, evil-variants of himself but how can he truly confront a child that hasn't done anything yet?
"Gotham" he doesn't elaborate. Tim had been a menace even at ten and he didn’t need the added headache.
"Are you me?"
"Yes"
His comm crackles alive. The others had been fighting some blocks over, but the magician Tim had encountered fled in the moment of confusion and with him, so did his army of talking monkeys that he had somehow taught to attack. And now Tim had a younger version of himself standing in an alley and he has no idea what to do.
"RR come in."
"Here"
"Situation clear? Regroup to the cave"
"Affirmative"
He doesn’t explain what happened because frankly, he doesn’t know what he could even explain. His stand off with Timmy had lost most of its tension, but the other boy doesn't trust him. Has no reason to trust him. Tim had been paranoid, even back then, and he had never trusted himself much. And he's here in a super-suit, talking into a comm-line. He might as well be a villain for all that this Timmy knew.
"Will you resist if I try to get you to the bat-cave?" he asks. Timmy cocks his head. "Can you prove that you work with Batman?"
Can he?
“Would a batarang be enough proof? I don't exactly have bat paraphernalia on me at all times."
Timmy thinks for a second and Tim absently listens to his siblings squabbling.
"You're gonna try to get me home, right?"
"That's the plan" he confirms. He sees the mental calculations Timmy is making and ultimately, he knows the boy will see reason. That's what they've always done. Timmy has no allies here, he's an untrained ten year old in a Gotham he no-longer calls his home and this is himself. Sure, Tim might be a villain but teher aren't many alternatives for a boy out of time.
Their arrival to the batcave happens without big fanfare. He hasn't told them about this incident yes and everyone's exhausted. The monkeys weren't exactly great fighters but they also didn't particularly like hurting animals—the precise reason the magician had had that army, if Tim had to wager a guess.
Bruce looks up when he steps over the main entrance and he notices his shorter shadow.
"Report, now" ah, refreshing. No ‘hi Tim’, ’how're you doing Tim?’ Just right down to business; at least Bruce appreciated his time. He took a deep breath and now all attention was on him. Which he had really hoped wouldn't happen. Tiny Tim might not show it but he wasn't exactly comfortable around people.
"This is me, age ten. The magician tried to flee and encountered me on the crossing of 3rd and Bow-lane. I engaged him, and when he realized he wasn't escaping the fight, he blew a cloud of a silver power into my face. That's when Timmy appeared. He disappeared whilst iI was distracted." A rookie move in actuality, but he didn't think any of them would tease him for it, considering the fact that the room looked like a collection of deer caught in a traffic jam.
Timmy didn't say anything, even though Tim could remember hating being called Timmy. It was just easier to differentiate between them.
"Alternate universe or time stream displacement?"
"Haven't figured that out yet, though I heavily suspect alternate universe—if only because I can't remember this ever happening"
The room felt silent and Tim felt Timmy shuffle beside him. That's right— Timmy didn’t know any of them, not really.
"I'll try to find more out later. For now, might I introduce you to Timmy? He lives in the manor next door and has no idea how he got here" he pushed the boy in front of him. He'd never grown particularly tall, would probably stay short by any US average, but at ten, he'd been tiny. It's surreal that two years form now, the boy would jump across rooftops as Robin.
"Oh, yeah, hi Timmy! I'm Dick, I think we've met at some gala before, right?" thankfully his older brother came to the rescue, his smile blinding even though this situation was surreal.
Slowly, the rest collected themselves.
The introductions are tedious and Tim can feel Timmy’s eyes burning into him the entire time. They need to talk and he's dreading it. He's glad when Timmy finally lets go of him to accompany Dick up into the kitchen and he makes no move to follow. He needs to get this fixed quickly.
Bruce stays with him, his own gaze full with understanding Tim doesn't deserve.
"He doesn't like you" he states.
"Obviously." Tim replies.
"Why?" He's not sure if Bruce is really curious or only wanting to find out if Tim knows. He does.
"He never wanted to be Robin. He never wanted to be part of Gotham's night. He must've noticed that we've made no mention of my parents. I already didn't like myself at that age. There are a ton of answers B’, I guess we can just choose which one fits best."
He turns to the computer and begins inputting data—he needs to know if their scanners found an anomaly that would proof the alternate universe theory. He also needs to call Constantine, or maybe Zatanna. Who ever was available. Tim has little interest in hashing things out with an even more insecure, tiny version of himself. He's made his peace with the fact that he's just not a very likable person, there’s no reason to push more.
Bruce grunts and thankfully doesn't poke further even though he must've his own theories as to why Tim hates himself.
He once told his friends that he would gladly stop being Robin because that would mean the world is finally at peace. It was a naive claim to make, but its true. And yet, he wishes he'd never started. All the people he's saved have never been enough to make up his own deaths in his mind. His parents, both gone. Him, isolated and alone inside this family. The neglect he never seemed to shake. He's not sure if he would do it all over if he had the chance and he's glad he doesn't have to find out.
Upstairs, the atmosphere is weird. Timmy is an awkward boy, and it reminds Dick achingly of all those times it had just been the two of them. Before everything had gone to shit, when for that short period, Tim had been Dick's only brother and they'd been desperately close. He loved the boy and it only made the contrast worse.
Bruce had divided them, his death had practically destroyed whatever was left after Damian arrived. He gets cool answers over comms and ghosted in texts. This Timmy hasn’t seen any of it yet, but he's just as polite and cold. It was the first layer of Tim, what he'd been taught was appropriate and it made it difficult for the others to relate to him.
Dick watched Steph struggle through a convo with tiny Tim, who was reserved and wide eyed and glancing at the coffee machine that Alfred had very firmly not turned on. Instead, the they had cups of cocoa in their hands and sat at the kitchen counter.
"Are you excited that you get to be Robin?" Steph asks and Dick winces internally. Bad idea. Timmy shakes his head. Damian snorts and not for the first time Dick wonders how a boy that can be so lovely when they're together, can be such a dick in a group. He loves Damian, loves him dearly, but at this rate he makes more enemies than friends.
"No? How can you not be excited for the only honor you receive in your live"
Timmy looks at the other boy curiously. He tilts his head.
"Because I'm not stupid. If I'm Robin that means something happened to the other Robin and that’s terrible"
Dick had almost forgotten Tim's hero crush on Jason. His eyes flicker to the man who's holding his cup in a death-grip.
"Yeah? Why's that? The way I see it, whatever happened gave you the opportunity to work with Batman"
His voice rough and Dick wants to chide his brother. There's no reason to agitate tiny Tim more than he already is.
"That was never my plan though. Sure, I like Batman, I like taking pictures of him, but Robin's the best! And so if something happened to Robin that would be terrible. Not to mention how Batman would react to that-" Timmy shudders "So no. I mean, I guess it’s cool that I got to save lives, but I liked it just like it was"
It seems to floor the others and Dick begins to wonder how much they truly knew about their middlest bird. He's always known that Tim hadn't wanted to be Robin, but it hadn't really clicked that he might resent it even when he enjoyed the position itself.
"Well, if its any consolation to you, you did ask me to come back first" he says and knows he made a mistake.
"He did?" Jason asks, offended.
"Yeah, Timmy came to visit me as a civilian, and practically demanded it. Said it was for the good of the city. But I didn't want to."
"I don't think I would make a good Robin" Tim says, matter of factly and it breaks Dick's heart.
"You were! Good, I mean. Some might even call you the best!" Predictably, all the present Robins protested. But Dick didn't care. He had never factually checked, wouldn't even know how, really, but he needed Timmy to lose that look.
"If you say so" Tim says with doubt. He sips his cocoa.
"It's pretty late, Timmy. Do you want to go to bed?" Dick is about 99% certain Tim will not show up again tonight and that makes this birdy his responsibility.
"I don't mind staying up, but I can go to bed if you want me to" Timmy says pragmatically. It's the same sort of voice he'd used with Bruce those first few months when the old man had been completely off the rails.
He shook his head and reached out. Tim let himself be lead up the stairs easily enough and doesn't even hesitate when he finds what used to be Tim's room. It's half empty, ever since Tim moved out, but there are still posters on the wall and the bed is made.
Surrounding the kitchen table are two ex-Robins and the current one. It sounds like the set-up to a bad joke but Jason doesn’t feel like laughing.
"He really didn’t want to be Robin, huh" he says, and doesn't know what kind of answer he thinks he'll get.
"It seems so. Though Drake has always been a master manipulator and this might just be one more tactic to unsurp my position"
Steph snorts.
"Yeah, Tim might be a pretty good liar but that's a whole ass child. He wasn’t lying"
"Well, now I feel kind of bad for beating him up"
"You didn’t before?" Stephanie looks incredulous. Jason makes a so-so gesture with his hand.
"I mean, I wasn’t gunning for a repeat performance but I wasn’t all heartbroken 'bout it either"
"-tt-"
When Dickwad finally comes back around, he's alone. The kid Drake was seriously freaking Jason out. He was so emotionless. Like a perfect little robot child. It was uncanny. And adult Drake had had nearly the same expression. Terrible.
"The two detectives all holed up?" Dick says.
"Do ya even need to ask? Haven’t seen a slip of either of ‘em since we came up" Jason could relate. Had a younger version of *him* shown up, he would’ve run in the opposite direction. No need to dump that much trauma on a pre-teen. Besides, he'd somehow been talked into wearing borderline panties. Terrible choice.
"Go figure" big brother muttered and fixed himself coffee. Alfred had retired some ten minutes ago and Jason didn't resent it one bit. The old man needed his sleep.
"He really came ta’ yer door to ask?"
"Yeah. Visited me at the circus, actually. I was so creeped out! But he insisted that Bruce was unwell until I brought him right to the front door"
"And father simply accepted the boy? He was much more naive then"
"No, Bruce wanted nothing to do with him. He was all up in his self-flagellation or whatever"
Jason choked on his cocoa. He coughed and Steph helpfully hit his back. "Jesus, have to phrase it like that?"
"I said it like I saw it"
"So what?—Timmy-boy just goes up to him and he makes him Robin?"
"No. I'm pretty sure Tim blackmailed him into that position. And even then he only went out when we really needed back-up. Bruce was pissed" man, replacement had balls.
"Was he like that the entire time?" that meaning vaguely downtrodden and stoic.
"Yeah. I had to teach him to use the quips, you know. But B’ really messed him up after a while"
When didn't he?
"So what I don't get, right-" Jason said, slightly tipsy. They'd migrated from the counter to the couch and somewhere along the lines a bottle of vodka had appeared on the table. Damian ´had gracefully made his exit by then, so now it was just down to the three of them, sitting and drinking.
"What I don't get, is why was he so upset about loosing Robin if he never wanted to be him in the first place?“
"Both times, actually! He was so pissed when I took over" Stephanie added. She was good for a few drinks, Jason decided. She could hold her liquor and was fun to talk to. They should do this more often.
"Guys, the funda- funda- difference between you an' him is that he sees this as an honor. And as a job—, but mostly as an honor. He knows how important Robin is to Batman and this city and so, he needs someone to take that seriously. Which he had serious doubts about with Steph. Don't even get me started on Damian-. I get it, from his perspective. Damian was volatile, and not fit for the job"
"Sure is a shit job though"
"Yeah but for Tim ist like, a whole thing. You need to be perfect as Robin and when he doesn't think another person will be that, he gets upset. He also holds himself to that standard though, which causes his whole workaholic thing" Dick gestured widely towards the stairs. Jason nodded solemnly. It made sense.
"Should I be offended by that? I feel like I should be offended"
"Steph, B fired you in like, a month." Stephanie pushed her lip out in a pout. It looked stupid.
"Any idea what we're gonna do with Mr Robot in the morning? Tim sure as shit won't take care of him"
"He's gonna be sent back" comes a voice from the stairs. It's Tim, holding a cup in his hand and dark circles under his eyes.
"We've found the solution, he's gonna go back. And then we won't ever talk about him again."
Dick cooed and made grabby hands. Grown up Tim sighed but came closer.
"But you're supes adorable!" Stephanie said. Jason wouldn’t exactly describe robot-baby as cute, but he did have his charms.
„Yeah, and you're drunk off your ass. There are children sleeping here, Steph" The response was a stuck-out tongue.
"Go to bed, you get to wrangle me in the morning until I have the portal raedy" With that, adult Tim left again, a new cup of steaming coffee in his arms.
The morning comes much too quickly for night-risers and yet, when Jason stumbles out of his cocoon on the upstairs floor, nursing a hangover
, he can smell pancakes from a mile away. The closer he comes the more he can hear, witnessing a truly astonishing conversations between tiny-Tim and Alfred.
"It's gonna be so good when I get home! I'm gonna make pancakes every day!" The boy babbles, nothing like the quiet child from last night.
"Then you are already ahead of your grown-up counterpart, master Timmy."
"Big me doesn’t know how to make pancakes?" Timmy sounds sad.
"Not to my knowledge, my dear boy. In fact, I would go as far as to say he does not know how to cook at all"
"Oh" Timmy seemed to mull over that.
"Ah Master Jason, I expected you down much earlier." It’s not as much of a chiding as he knows Alfred wants to give him and the pointed glance towards the living room doens’t go unnoticed either.
"Sorry, Alfie, got late last night. You made pancakes?"
Alfred sets a plate down in front of him with an Advil and a coffee.
"The young Master and I"
"They taste amazing" he says to the boy who turns bright red. Seemed like the little robot did act like a child sometimes.
"Yes, he was just telling me how he didn’t know how to cook on his own at home. His nanny makes him food" Alfred doesn't seem approving. Which seems a bit hypocritical, if only because he was making breakfast as Bruce was probably working himself into a coma.
"I don't have a nanny, Mr Pennyworth" Tim refuted. Looking the tiny slip of a boy up and down, Jason raised an eyebrow. “Ya' have a butler?"
"No. Mrs Mac goes grocery shopping and cooks me dinner twice a week. But I'm a big boy, I don't need someone around all the time"
It took a lot of restraint not to break the fork in two.
"Huh?" he inquired unintelligently. Alfred busied himself cleaning the pot. H e clearly didn't approve.
"I haven't had a nanny since I was eight! I'm not a baby"
Jason just nods. It’s not like Tim's the only one with a messed up childhood. And they can't do anything about it either.
"But Alfred taught me how to make pancakes so I'll eat breakfast for dinner form now on! That’s way better than sandwiches."
This tiny boy, alone, at a stovetop, cooking. Yeah, here's to hoping he won't burn the house down. Jason had done the same at Tim's age though. Catherine hadn't had the strength to cook most days, so he had been on cooking duty. Only difference was that he had someone to teach him in good moments. Clearly Tim mostly learned via internet. He wonders why Tim never did a cooking class in high-school. Then he remembers that the only one of them to finish high-school was Dick. God— this live was depressing.
Dick joins them bright and sunny like he hadn't been singing eighties pop at three in the morning. He doesn’t even look hungover. Jason is distinctly jealous. He listens to Tim talking about whatever he was currently doing in school. He skipped two grades apparentyl, and his best friend now goes to a different school. It's so normal it almost makes him forget about Tim's parents all together.
It’s nearly twelve when Tim- the big one-comes up the stairs again. He hasn't slept at all and judging by the smell, he also hasn't showered. Timmy looks at his big counterpart like a puppy might look at a wolf. It can recognize some similarities but they aren't even the same species and won't ever collide. Except they do. Because this puppy will grow into a wolf and this Timmy will grow into bitter, grown-up, no-fun Tim.
"Is it time to go back?“ Timmy asks. Tim nods. They looks so different and yet so similar.
Damian is training on the rings when they come down, and Bruce is at the bat-computer as expected. Timmy watches Damian do a triple flip with a shine in his eyes that he hasn't had at all since he'd come to the manor. He clearly loves Robin in all their adaptations.
"After an extensive talk with Zatanna, and a meeting with Barry, we've determined that it was a pretty simple spell. She's gonna be here to rectify it in a few "
Timmy goes back to watching Damian train and Tim ignores him. Privately, Jason thinks its cruel. He doesn't know what exactly it says about Tim that he can so easily ignore and push back against himself, but it cannot possibly be good.
Dick hugs the tiny bird tight before they push him through the portal and everyone pretends they didn't see Timmy's tears. The collected boy probably won't remember much but he hopes at least Alfred's pancakes will stay. Tim doesn’t even say goodbye. He thanks Zatanna and leaves. It’s such a sharp contrast to the boy they've all just met that Jason starts to wonder if they should perhaps have a therapist. He forgets it almost as quickly as he has the thought.
Timmy does remember how to make pancakes although he doesn't know how or who's recipe it is. He says nothing when he recognizes the taste at Alfred’s years later; it's not his place.