Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was another gloomy day in Gotham. Smog covered the sun. A chill ran through the air, somehow cutting through even the thickest of coats. It was only early autumn, but already uncomfortably cold. Especially at night. However, to one specific Gotham resident, this was the perfect sweater weather!

A head of short,(definitely not natural) bright pumpkin orange hair bobbed through the crowd. The person it belonged to couldn't be over the age of 20, probably in their late teens. They were wrapped in an oversized, neon green and black, checkerboard sweater, and wore jeans that had green flames hand-painted around the bottoms of the legs. Their shoes didn't quite match the color palate, but still were a statement being hot pink with a 2 inch platform. They would wear bigger platforms, they owned bigger platforms, but they had found the tallest they could effectively still ride their scooter in was 2in.

They had a backpack that was scribbled on with various sharpie drawings, and a pair of headphones, which had light up cat ears, sat over their actual ears that were filled with piercings. And despite all of this, the thing about them that made people stare was the fact that they were beaming like an idiot while walking down the sidewalk. Looking like they didn't have a care in the world and, somehow, was enjoying their life.

It was getting pretty late in the day and most people were on their way home from work, but Dyzzy was just getting started. Technically they didn't start their “Job” until the sun went down, but it was nice to get out and about during daylight hours every once and a while.

They weaved through the people on the sidewalk, making their way over to midtown. Once the sun set the orders would start coming in and most of the restaurants people ordered from were there. They pulled out their phone, a somewhat beat up thing, with a crack across the right upper corner of the screen, and opened their app.

Yes, their app. They had coded it a few months back when they first got the idea for ‘Dyzzy's Deliveries’. It was pretty simple, people ordered food from wherever, paid over the phone (or online), and sent the information to Dyzzy through the app. Thus placing their delivery order from a place without deliveries. And Dyzzy could charge a pretty penny for it too, considering they were the only one willing to deliver absolutely anywhere in Gotham at any time of night.

Dyzzy didn't though, as most people tipped well and they wanted low-income families to be able to place orders as well as mobsters and vigilantes with endless amounts of money. Obviously the pricing for the delivery was calculated on distance, size of order, and how tall of a building they'd have to climb to the roof of this time. (They had to add a whole new section to the “delivery address” part of the app specifically for that last one.)

They began to get things set up. To “clock in” of sorts. Obviously because this was Dyzzy's buisness they chose their own hours, so there was never an official “opening” and “closing” time Dyzzy's Deliveries. If someone downloaded the app instead of going through the website they would get a notification when Dyzzy's was in buisness.

Dyzzy slid into the chair of some random internet Café to access the wifi (and get something for dinner, but wifi was more important). The phone signal in Gotham sucked if you couldn't afford the super expensive phone plans all the big wigs used, so Dyzzy used free wifi as much as possible to speed things up.

After finishing off a piece of chocolate cake (don't judge!) they cracked open a monster energy and officially made Dyzzy's Deliveries open for the night! They kicked their feet up on the seat of the chair across from them and waited. It usually took a bit for orders to start coming in, as most of their clients weren't really active until the early hours of the morning.

Dyzzy’s Deliveries didn't ask for much information. Just what they were picking up and from where, a delivery address, and a name for the order. You could literally put anything you want on there. Dyzzy once had someone put down “Lord Voldemort” and the dude got a kick out of it when Dyzzy showed up asking for “He Who Shall Not Be Named”. Earned an extra $10 tip that night.

It was optional to put down a phone number if you wanted to receive text updates about your order, but messaging was also available through the app.

After about 45 minutes of playing Tetris on their phone a notification popped up, and they were off.

—--

Red Robin (aka Tim Drake), had headed out for patrol around sundown. He'd only been out for about an hour and he'd already stopped three muggings. Pretty slow for a Gotham evening to be honest. Tim wasn't sure if he should be relieved to hopefully have an easy night, or if this was just the calm before the storm. Something in his mind had him immediately going with the ladder… that may be the paranoia.

They were looking down from rooftops, watching for anything suspicious, listening to Oracle and the other vigilantes as they sent him updates. Although most of it was just Damian arguing with Bruce about why he should still be allowed on the coms, even though he wasn't out on patrol that night. Lord knew that twerp was sitting in the batcave fuming about not being allowed to go out.

Red Robin was rolling his eyes when he noticed a flash of orange zip by below him. He glanced over the edge of the building he was on to see a person with bright orange hair swerving past the other civilians walking on the sidewalk. It looked like they were riding some sort of electric scooter?

It took Tim a sec to fully register the colorful figure that had, surprisingly, not crashed into anyone in the two seconds Tim wasn't watching them.

Now, the only people in this part of Gotham(or any part really) that purposely dressed like a neon traffic cone were most likely villains. Or were crazy. Usually both.

Tim quickly leaped to the next roof over, following the traffic cone down a few streets and into an alley in the Bowery. They were surprisingly fast on that thing. They must have modded it in some way.

He stayed watching silently from above as the teen, who Tim now registered was probably around his age, maybe older, dismounted their ‘vehicle’. They walked it with them up to a side door of one of the buildings, glancing down at their phone before looking back up to the door.

They knocked a few times and immediately took a step back. It was obvious this person had not been here before, and was at least being cautious. After a few seconds the door opened a crack and the barrel of a gun poked out the door. Tim was ready to jump down and intervene when he noticed the traffic cone's (yes, that was their name now until he was able to come up with a better one) body language remained relaxed.

In fact, the person smiled wide and said in a very chipper customer service voice, “Delivery for Andrew?” The gun hesitantly lowered and it was then that Tim noticed Traffic Cone had removed their backpack and was taking something out. Was that… a Bat Burger bag?

“Two Bat Burgers and one order of the Night-Wings, extra barbecue sauce, right?” They said happily, as if they hadn't had a gun pointed at their head just seconds prior.

“You remembered to get extra sauce?” A deep male voice asked incredulously from inside. “They never put enough in there.” The man sounded annoyed.

“Absolutely! I checked myself,” Traffic Cone leaned in a little and put a hand up to their mouth as if telling a secret, “and I grabbed another handful of BBQ packets on my way out.” They giggled. It was like they were talking to a friend about petty school drama.

Tim heard a gruff chuckle come from beyond the door as it widened enough for a burly and to stick out, no longer holding the gun. Traffic Cone gingerly place the Bat Burger bag in his hand. It withdrew and a few seconds later appeared again to drop a few crumpled dollar bills and an assortment of coins into Traffic Cone's still outstretched hand.

“Thank you very much! Have a good night!” They beamed. The door was closed harshly with a loud thud in response. Traffic cone just nodded “Okie-dokie,” before backing away from the door to look down at their phone again. After a minute or two they popped their phone back onto a little stand that usually connects to a car’s air vent, but had somehow been attached to the middle of the scooter's handlebars. They turned around to face the exit of the alleyway and then kicked off the ground to get them set in motion before pushing a button on the handles to make the scooter power on and speed back out onto the sidewalk.

Red Robin stood there dumbfounded. How the fuck did that neon ass smiley motherfucker not get shot? And since when did Bat Burger do deliveries? Since when did anyone deliver to this part of town!?

“Hey Oracle?” Tim said, pressing his finger against his ear to turn his com back on. “Yes Red Robin?” Barbra’s voice responded almost immediately.

“Does Bat Burger deliver to The Bowery?” Tim asked.

Barbra paused for a few seconds before answering, sounding just as confused as Tim, “No. Bat Burger doesn't deliver at all. Are you okay? Did you hit your head?”

“No, I'm fine.” Tim said, rolling his eyes. “I just saw the physical embodiment of a crossing guard vest deliver a Bat Burger to some shady alley in the Bowery and they didn't get shot… or jumped.”

Barbra paused again before stifled laughter could be heard over the coms.

“What aren't you telling me?” Tim half-shouted angrily.

“In my defense I thought you already knew.”

“Knew what!?”

“A few months ago a new Gotham food delivery website just appeared out of nowhere. It looks really official, there's even an app and everything. They’re only open at night and claim to deliver anywhere in Gotham. I think Nightwing and Red Hood have been using it for at least a few weeks now. It's gotten pretty popular with the Gotham underground.”

Tim took a moment to process this new information before eventually angrly muttering, “Those fuckers didn't tell me about this on purpose!”

He ran his hand down his face and groaned, thinking of all the late night stake outs and patrols he'd been on over the past month. He could have been ordering pizza all this time!? Tim sighed, he was definitely going to be talking to his brothers about this later, but until then… “What's it called?” Tim asked.

“Dyzzy’s Delivery Service.”

Chapter Text

It was just past 2AM and Nightwing was keeping watch over a warehouse. Shady people were apparently doing shady shit inside and he was supposed to stake it out. For some reason this little stakeout couldn’t be handled by any of the vigilantes who were actually supposed to be watching over Gotham, but at least Gotham had something Bludhaven did not: all night pizza delivery.

Nightwing had placed his order about twenty minutes ago and sent over the info on the Dyzzy’s Delivery app Jason had told him to download about a month and a half ago. Ten minutes later he got a notification that the pizza was ready to be picked up and also forwarded that through the app. Even though Dyzzy should be receiving the same notification, he still shot a reminder message just in case. As far as Dick knew it didn't bother Dyzzy and was actually appreciated with how busy some nights can be for them.

He had met Dyzzy only two other times at this point, but Jason had apparently been using this new delivery service at least once a week. Dyzzy seemed like an alright person, definitely a bit off, even for gotham. They were younger than he had expected them to be, probably around Tim’s age. At first he thought they were just hired as one of the delivery guys, but later learned that they ran the whole business(apparently by themselves). It definitely made Dick uneasy, a kid that young running around the streets of Gotham at night. Especially dressed the way they do. They looked like they were just coming from a rave and they never seemed in a bad mood. Always having a customer service smile, unless that was just how they naturally acted. It made Dick cringe a bit. He wasn't an introvert by any means, but that much enthusiasm and energy all the time would definitely get overwhelming fast.

He had attempted to question them the first time, but he was on a stakeout with Red Hood and had been given a jab by Jason to ‘knock it off’. The second time he was on his own and tried to question them again, but this kid was a master of evading questions, redirecting conversations, and finding a way to get you talking about absolutely random bullshit with them. The conversation was definitely fun, talking about hair dye. Dick had offhandedly mentioned Dyzzy’s (at the time) acid green hair and it sent them on this ten minute long story about where they found the dye and how it works. They claimed it glowed under black light and Dick had to try it out. It actually did and was fucking awesome! Unfortunately Dick didn't get any other information out of the interaction.

The kid was like the embodiment of ADHD and somehow spread it to whoever they were talking to.

Dick was snapped out of his thoughts by a notification that his order had been picked up. Already? It literally came out of the oven five minutes ago. They must have been in the area.

Something felt a little off about it, but not enough to be a gut feeling or anything. He must still be fixated on the ‘kid delivering food to dangerous people in a dangerous city at night’ thing.
He put his phone away and got back to actually watching the building he was supposed to be keeping an eye on for suspicious activity. Dyzzy’s Delivery didn’t share their location(thank God, Dick was relieved this person had at least some survival instinct), so he doesn’t get notified when they’re getting close. Plus the only 24 hour pizza place is over half the city away. It was gonna be a bit before his pizza got here.

However, not even ten minutes later Dick felt his phone vibrate in one of his suit pockets. He pulled it out to see one notification on the lock screen: “You’ve received a message about your order.”

He swiped up and unlocked his phone before clicking on the notification. It opened the optional chat function in the Dyzzy’s Delivery app. A little text box popped up and Dick read with a small frown. His pizza better not have been made wrong, AGAIN!

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “You’ve received a message about your order. - gonna b late. got stbbd. gimmie nother 30min *thumbs up emoji*”

Dick stared at the screen for a moment longer that he would have liked before immediately internally freaking out. “WHAT?!” He exclaimed(a little too loud). He cringed slightly, looking around to see if someone had heard before shooting back a text back as fast as he could.

Nightwing: “YOU GOT STABBED? WHERE ARE YOU? I’M COMING!”

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “yeah, lol. i don feel comforble w/ u knoin m locatin. and thats wut she said XD”

Dick would be pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration if he wasn't already swinging in the direction of the pizzeria. This fucking twerp. He was just going to chalk up the horrible spelling and joke to shock and possibly blood loss, for now. He honestly doubted that it made any difference.

Nightwing: “I don’t care, I’m already on my way. Tell me where you are so I find you BEFORE you bleed out.”

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “u use caps a lot. y r u yelling @ me?”

Jesus fucking Christ. Dick took a deep breath and let it out slowly, keeping an eye out for a brightly dressed idiot dying in an alleyway. He did start off a bit strong.

Nightwing: “Sorry, I’m not yelling, I’m worried. Please tell me where you are so I can help.”

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “idk u. wut if u stab me 2?”

Nightwing: “I literally put my name as Nightwing. You’ve delivered to me before! Please tell me where you are!”

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “wow ur stubrn. idk where i am”

NIghtwing was seriously starting to get fed up with this conversation. If the stab wound doesn't kill this kid, he just might.

Nightwing: “Are you fucking serious?”

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “ye”

Nightwing: “Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?!”

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “ ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ ”

~ 30 minutes earlier ~

“Thanks! Have a good night!” Dyzzy waved to the cashier, who was also the cook, who was also the owner, of Trapani Pizza, the only pizza place in Gotham open 24/7. Dyzzy headed out the restaurant(if you could call it that. Trapani's was pickup only), a small jingle following the open and close of the door.

Dyzzy had made sure to double check that the order was made correctly. They'd gotten into the habit of doing that first thing upon picking up any order, because most people in Gotham didn't understand the phrase “Don't shoot the messenger” and would blow up at Dyzzy if something was wrong with the food.

Dyzzy easily balanced the pizza box on the handlebars of their scooter, keeping it secure by squeezing it between their hands as they drove off. They glanced down at their phone to see where they were delivering to. It was a ways away, but they had been on that side of the city a lot and knew several good alleyways where people usually didn't hang out that they could just appear in.

Of course it would be suspicious for them to deliver a pizza half way across town in less than 10 minutes on an electric scooter, no matter how cool it was, so Dyzzy decided to drive to an alley that was somewhat close to where they were now. They'd been feeding a stray cat over there for the past few weeks. They were no closer to petting it than when when they first found it, but Dyzzy had hope!

It was usually somewhat populated in that area though, so teleporting over there wouldn't be much of a good idea. They weaved through the streets, hopping up onto the sidewalk if there were cars on the road, and made it to the little alley. It was a dead end between two buildings that ran into the back of a third one, just wide enough for a dumpster to fit snugly.

They pulled in, leaning the scooter against a wall and leaving the pizza on the handlebars. Dyzzy looked around for a few seconds, which mostly consisted of standing in one spot and glancing at the ground. Before sighing and giving into actually trying to find this cat. If it wasn't here, they'd just leave the food they brought for it and go.

They walked further down into the alley, looking in-between the dumpster and the walls before dropping down to look underneath. Trash, pop cans, a ton of cigarette buds, and some other things that Dyzzy was sure they probably weren't supposed to find, but no cat.

Dyzzy was about to admit defeat when they saw a small fuzzy lump. At first they thought it was a rat, but they grabbed their phone and turned on the flashlight to check. Dyzzy also liked rats, although they're even less likely to let you pet them. The light landed on what had to be the cutest thing Dyzzy had ever seen.

A baby opossum was lying there amidst the broken glass, sleeping. Dyzzy thought it was dead at first, but they could see the little rise and fall of its tiny breaths. “Oh my God, you fucking precious trash baby, don't you know there are cats around here? Where is your mother?” Dyzzy asked, doing a more thorough sweep of under the dumpster with the flashlight before landing back on the opossum. “Welp, I did all I could to find her, guess I have to take you home.” Dyzzy said, their smile betraying the fake sadness in their voice.

“Come here.” Dyzzy reached out, careful not to get tetanus from the underside of the dumpster as they did, gently getting a hold of the opossum with their left hand. It stirred slightly, and Dyzzy held their breath, hoping it would wake up and bite them or try to run away, but it quickly went back to snoozing. The cold probably wasn't helping, once they got the little guy warmed up Dyzzy was sure it’d be more active.

They let out a sigh of relief that was very short lived as they felt a hand wrap around their ankle. They'd had to lie completely on their belly to reach the opossum, and had been oblivious to anyone approaching. Fucking stupid.

Dyzzy quickly flipped themselves onto their back and froze when they noticed the glint of a blade aimed at their head. They glanced around, noticing at least three other individuals standing in the alley as well as the knife guy. One was going through their backpack, which they had taken off to fit under the dumpster, and another holding the pizza box. The third was also staring down at Dyzzy.

“Oh, come on man, the pizza? Really?” Dyzzy said, annoyed. The four figures shared a glance in confusion, allowing Dyzzy to scramble backwards and sit up, back pressed against the dumpster. All eyes snapped back to Dyzzy immediately and Dyzzy held up their hands in surrender.

However, one hand was holding an unconscious baby opossum, and the other was holding their phone, with the flashlight still on. Dyzzy flashed the bright light at the group, causing them all to either close their eyes or look away to avoid being temporarily blinded. It also illuminated their previously silhouetted faces.

It was a bunch of middle school punks. The one holding the knife couldn't be older than 14. Dyzzy quickly jumped to their feet while the four were distracted, and immediately got hit with a wave of nausea as the corners of their vision blurred. Fucking hell, this was NOT the time for a flare up, although it was their fault for standing up so quickly. Especially with an increased heart rate.

Dyzzy could tell it startled the group before them, as the figures jumped at the sudden movement. The kid holding the knife took a step forward, saying something Dyzzy couldn’t quite comprehend it. They could feel the world shift slightly, it was rotating. Or were they? Dyzzy stumbled forward a few steps, before managing to catch themselves.

Well, actually they were caught, if you could call it that, by knife kid. His knife specifically.

Dyzzy yelped in pain as they felt the blade retract from their shoulder, dropping their phone and staggering back against the dumpster for support.

“Fuck man, why’d you do that?”

“They lunged at me, you saw!”

“Did you stab them in the heart? Are they going to die?!”

“Oh my god you just murdered someone!”

“Did not!”

“We have to get out of here.”

“Just go!”

Dyzzy heard footsteps retreat, but at that point they had already sunk to the ground, hand pressed against their rapidly bleeding stab wound. Funnily enough the pain was already starting to dull, they must be going into shock. Dyzzy brought their attention from their shoulder to the animal they were still holding that was starting to squirm a bit.

“Ah, shit. Hey man.” Dizzy said through gritted teeth, but still tried to sound somewhat comforting to the little thing. “Slept through all that did ya?” They asked, wanting to let out a little laugh, but thought better of it. They looked up, spying their abandoned bag and scooter, as well as their phone still lying on the ground. Thank god the punks left everything behind in their retreat. Everything except, “Seriously? They took the fucking pizza?” Dyzzy grumbled before painfully making their way over to their bag, grabbing their phone along the way.

They used one of the walls of the alley as support to lean against as they sat and pulled the can of wet cat food out of their bag. They quickly cracked it open and set it back down in the bag, placing the opossum, whom they had decided to name Drowsy, gently next to it. They winced as they pulled up their phone with their injured arm. The uninjured one currently being used to stop them from bleeding out.

Dyzzy looked down at their new friend and smiled, “Eat up little man. I gotta text a guy real quick.”

~ Back to the Present ~

Dick shoved his phone back into his pocket before he chucked it at the building he was swinging over in anger. How could someone be this casual about a fucking stab wound? Yes, its gotham. Yes, they’ve probably been stabbed before. But still!

Dick turned his full focus to looking for this kid. After another excruciatingly long, anxiety inducing, minute and a half, he caught a flash of orange out of the corner of his eye. He quickly swung down and landed in the alley, immediately running over to the collapsed form leaning against a dumpster. Kneeling down to the kid he could immediately see them pressing their hand against their right shoulder, their bulky patchwork sweater helping stop the blood flow. The knife was no longer in the wound, as he suspected. The assailant wouldn't have left their weapon behind. He looked up to the kid, Dyzzy’s, face for a moment to see them staring with their dark brown eyes, wide in shock and confusion.

“Oh, shit. You weren't lying.” They said astonished, their words slightly slurring together as they spoke. That wasn’t a good sign.

Nightwing immediately got to work, “Move your hand, let me see the wound.” He said, already pulling emergency first aid out of his utility belt.

Dyzzy obliged, wincing slightly as Nightwing quickly assessed the injury and than applied pressure to stop the bleeding. It wasn’t terrible, nothing vital was hit and its not too deep, but the spot was unfortunate. They were definitely not going to be able to go on deliveries for a bit while their shoulder recovered.

Nightwing pressed a wad of gauze to their shoulder before wrapping their arm and chest with more gauze, over their clothes. It would do as a makeshift bandage until he got them to a 24 hour clinic. “Well, they got you pretty good, but you should be alright in a few weeks as long as we get you proper medical attention and you don't strain it in that time.” Nightwing gave Dyzzy a pointed look that he knew they could see despite the mask.

Dyzzy rolled their eyes, already knowing that that wasn’t gonna happen. Well, at least the second part. Nightwing was about to start on a short and completely hypocritical lecture about why rest is important when he saw Dyzzy’s head start to drop.

“No no no. Hey, you gotta stay with me here, okay? You didn’t lose that much blood, you’re gonna be alright.” Nightwing said, immediately catching their head before they could completely fall over. Dyzzy’s eyes blinked open and took a second to adjust. “It’s fine.” They said, trying to push Nightwing’s hand off their forehead with a semi limp arm. “It’s normal.”

“It's really not.” Nightwing responded, easily remaining hold of their head to keep it upright.

“It is for me.” Dyzzy shot back, it sounded like they probably meant it as a sassy remark, but it mostly came out like a whine or a complaint.

“Nightwing, why have you left your post?” A staticy voice asked in Nightwing’s ear.

“Shit.” Nightwing cursed under his breath. He had forgotten to notify the others where he was and what was happening. He reached up, pressing a finger to his earpiece and responding, “Sorry, I am helping an injured civilian currently. Will return once I get them proper help.” Nightwing took his hand off his earpiece, ignoring whatever response he got and reached down to start picking up Dyzzy bridal style. “I think its about time we got you some real medical attention.”

“Wait!” Dyzzy shouted, they seemed more lucid in this moment than they had during their entire interaction leading up to this point. Nightwing paused, looking them in the eye. “I need my bag, and scooter. They’ll get stolen if we leave them.” Dyzzy sounded genuinely upset, and Nightwing understood why. Now that he took the time to actually look, their scooter was pretty awesome. He could tell Jason had definitely helped them mod it. It had leds along the underside so it lit up the sidewalk a bright red(of course it was red), and several other mechanical parts that probably made it go faster than an electrical scooter theoretically should go. As well as make it look awesome, of course.

He looked over to the backpack that was lying open on the ground. It was covered in pins, buttons, graffiti, patches and random doodles. They’d obviously had it for a long time and there were probably a lot of memories attached to the bag. Nightwing was about to bring their attention back to the person they were attempting to pick up when he saw the backpack move out of the corner of his vision. His head snapped back to the bag, which got the attention of Dyzzy.

“Oh, don’t worry, that's just Drowsy.” Dyzzy said, a small smile pulling at their lips as they also looked over at the bag.

“What?” Nightwing said\, more as a statement than a question, glancing down at Dyzzy.

“I found a baby opossum sleeping under the dumpster and couldn't find it’s momma, so I have adopted him and named him Drowsy. Do you get it? Cuz I’m Dyzzy, and Drowzy also starts with a D. And rhymes… And i found him sleep-”

“Yes, I get it.” Nightwing cut Dyzzy off, just about done with surprises for this evening. “Wait, is that how you got stabbed? Crawling under a dumpster to get an opossum?” He asked in disbelief.

“Yeah.” Dyzzy laughed, wincing as they did so. “They caught me off guard. Stole my wallet… and your pizza. Sorry. Left my scooter though, so that's a plus! It was just a bunch of kids, so I don’t think they actually meant to stab me. Pretty sure they thought they killed me, so they scattered real fast.” Dyzzy said, attempting to stand up on their own, leaning against the dumpster for support as they went to grab their bag.

“Woah, okay. I’ll get your bag and scooter, although you’re carrying the rat.” Nightwing said, quickly scooping them up and heading over to the backpack.

“It’s and opossum, and I wouldn't let you carry Drowsy anyway.” Dyzzy sassed back, words slurring a bit more. He really needed to get them to a doctor, good thing there was one pretty close by. He wouldn't even have to swing there, which would have been very difficult with an injured teen, an electric scooter, and a baby opossum.

Nightwing tucked the scooter under one arm, and slung the bag onto his back, making sure Drowsy had been removed by Dyzzy before doing so. He had to admit, it was pretty cute. He quickly ran to the clinic, managing to get Dyzzy seen by one of the doctors immediately. At first they wouldn't let them take Drowsy back with them, but Nightwing assured the nurse it was much easier to just let them have their way.

After being assured by the nurse that Dyzzy would be alright, and that she would keep an eye on the scooter, Nightwing left the clinic. He finally turned his com back on immediately receiving a scolding from several different people about the dangers of ignoring them.

“I know, I know.” Nightwing said, beginning his short journey back to his ‘post’. “But boy do I have an interesting story for you guys.”

~An hour or two later in the Doc’s office~

“So, apart from the stab wound, there are a few things that concern me.” The Doctor said as she sat down across from Dyzzy in the medical room. Dyzzy watched her suspiciously, the woman had promised not to call CPS or try to look up an identity from any samples she took for blood tests. Dyzzy still didn't understand why she felt the need to do that, but it wasn’t exactly like they could stop it from happening, being under anesthesia and everything. This Doctor also hadn't asked for their name or age, although Dyzzy could tell by the way the woman looked at them that she knew they were under 18.

“How long do I have, doc?” Dyzzy asked with mock worry. This only got them a glare from the woman before she continued.

“Your heartbeat has remained surprisingly high since coming here, even though the shock has worn off and you are currently on medicine for the pain. Also your blood suggests you may be anemic and-”

“I’ma stop you right there,” Dyzzy said, raising up the hand on their uninjured arm to interrupt the woman. “I know what you’re gonna say, and yeah, you’re right. I already know I’ve got POTS. Been diagnosed since I was a little kid, so you don't gotta worry ‘bout it.”

The woman paused, looking genuinely shocked for a moment before regaining her composure. It was understandable, most teens showing up with stab wounds probably didn't have the resources to be able to get such a diagnosis, nor be so calm and confident about it. “Oh, I see. Well there are some resources I would reccomen-”

“I already know about all of that too. I’ve lived with this for over ten years now. Tonight just happened to be an unfortunate set of circumstances.” Dyzzy interrupted again, this time with a somewhat reassuring smile across their lips.

It was the Doctor’s to give Dyzzy a suspicious stare. Why was this kid who had just been attacked trying to reassure her? “Well, if you’re sure, then that's everything that I can do for you for now. I’m sending you home with some pain medication. It won't go for much on the street and you can’t get high by taking a ton of them at once, so don’t try.”

“Yessir.” Dyzzy saluted, standing up from their seat. The doctor rolled her eyes, but Dyzzy could spy a small smile pulling at the corner of her mouth. She led Dyzzy back to the front where they collected their scooter and backpack. A glance inside assured Dyzzy that Drowsy was still there, doing what he does best, sleeping. They also got their medication and were given a few rolls of gauze. They were told to change out the bandages at least once a day and keep it clean. No physical excursion, and to come back if anything happens.

Dyzzy nodded, thanking the nurse who checked them out, then stepped out of the small clinic into the cold 4AM gotham air. They slung their bag over their uninjured shoulder and walked their scooter down the street a bit, before casually turning into a random dark alley and disappearing completely.

Chapter Text

Dyzzy woke up to their face buried in a pillow. They were lying facedown on their makeshift bed. It was more of a nest than anything: An old mattress covered in a variety of sheets, blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals(of course). They slowly turned over, clenching their teeth and letting out a quiet hiss in pain from the stab wound they had acquired the night before. As they turned they blinked their eyes open to the dark, cave-like space they called their “bedroom”.

Brightly colored and patterned pieces of fabric that had been patchworked together into a giant sheet hug from the ceiling, being pinned up in various places to give the small room the look of a hippie tent. It covered the gray concrete ceiling well, and a bunch of string lights were hooked up around the room as well. Making the space feel cozy and warm.

Dyzzy took their time getting up, eventually rolling out of bed and sitting on the piece of carpet they had taken from an abandoned bowling alley to use a rug that covered the cold floor of the rest of the room. The room was pretty tiny, the pit of pillows they slept in filled half the space. The other half was taken up by an old movie film projector and a comfy chair that both faced a hole in the wall. This hole overlooked the only remaining screening room of the half collapsed, abandoned movie theater Dyzzy had made into their home.

It made sense to make this specific room the place they slept. They had always felt safe in smaller spaces. When they were little they used to sleep in the closet in their room, despite how much their parents didn’t like it and told them not to, they would always end up in there by the morning. They used to argue with their mother saying, “There can't be monsters in my closet if I’M in it!” And their mother would respond by jokingly saying Dyzzy was the monster. Plus this was the only room in the building that had a door that shut completely and locked.

Dyzzy pulled themself over to a cardboard box that sat on the chair. The box had a soft towel stuffed inside it, to act as a comfy bed for its precious cargo. They peeked inside to see their new opossum friend still snoozing, although he had eaten the rest of the can of cat food Dyzzy had left in there last night. That was good.

Dyzzy yawned, and had to stop themself from stretching so they didn’t tear their stitches. This was going to be annoying. There was no way they would be able to do deliveries tonight like this. Dyzzy groaned rolled their eyes in annoyance as they scooted over to the outlet on the wall where their phone was plugged in. They turned it on and groaned again to see it was already 2 in the afternoon. They hung their head and opened the Dyzzy’s Delivery app, scrolling down to send a mass text to everyone who had entered their phone numbers into the app. Then they also put a notice on the website and app itself that Dyzzy’s Delivery would, in fact, NOT be delivering for the next few nights. It was a good thing people had been tipping well, especially since the bats started ordering so often. Dyzzy could go a few days without income before having to worry about running out of money.

Dyzzy finally stood up and popped into the bathroom. Literally. It had been a while since Dyzzy had actually opened the door from their bedroom and walked downstairs to the old public restroom of the theater. Considering the state of the building, Dyzzy wouldn’t really trust the stairs to not give out under their weight anyway. It was much faster, and safer, to just teleport around the building. They had already crawled around the rubble when they first found the place, and to hook up all the wiring for the lights. This place hadn’t had electricity for a while, but with a few well placed extension cords, siphoning power from the surrounding buildings and power lines was easy as pie.

Ooh, Dyzzy could really go for some pie right now.

Dyzzy shook their head and ignored their grumbling stomach as they approached the grimy mirror in the bathroom. They had tried their best to clean this place up, but there is only so much you can do. They removed the sweater they were wearing, and had worn the day before. They didn't feel much like changing their clothes when they got home.

Undoing the bandages Dyzzy got a good look at their injury for the first time. It really wasn't as bad as it felt. It was a small puncture from a pocket knife, didn't hit anything vital and was stitched closed easily. Yeah, it was fairly deep, but all in all shouldn’t take too long to heal. Dyzzy had been through worse before, though that didn't make the pain any better. They pulled a first aid kit out from under the sink and grabbed one of the many bottles of fresh water they had stored in there as well. Yes, the plumbing in this place did still work, so they could use the toilet, but the water that came from those taps was not to be trusted. This place hadn’t been in use since the 70s, so the pipes were definitely not up to code anymore.

They washed, dressed, and rewrapped their shoulder before opening one of the many unused bathroom stalls that they had turned into a makeshift closet. They grabbed an oversized black hoodie with the Monster Energy logo emblazoned on the front in its signature acid green. They also kicked off the jeans they had been wearing in favor of some christmas pajama pants. Was it a little early in the year for red santa pajamas? Possibly, but they were cozy and christmas clothing goes on sale for really cheap after the holidays.

Dyzzy walked out the door of the restroom, directly into the main lobby. The signature 70s movie theater carpet was faded and had mostly been worn down to nothing due to Dyzzy using this semi-large flat space as a makeshift roller rink. They had long since cleared out any old furniture and rubble to make the area as open as possible. This was where they practiced on their rollerblades and skateboard(they were still kinda shit at the second one). It’s also where they parked and worked on their electric scooter. The large room was also lit up by a variety of hanging string lights hanging from the ceiling and draped on the walls, as well as color changing LED strips lining the edges of the floor.

To the right of the bathroom was the front entrance to the theater, completely collapsed. No one would be able to get in that way without blowing a hole through the thick wall of rubble and risking the entire building coming down. To the left was the concessions. Dyzzy had turned that area into their kitchen(obviously). They had a few mini fridges and coolers stored on the back counters as well as a travel stovetop and a few different cooking utensils. They had even managed to get one of the popcorn machines back up and running. On either side of the concessions were halls that led to the different screening rooms. The hall opposite the wall of the bathrooms was also completely collapsed along with that entire side of the building.

The other hall led to the only standing screening room that Dyzzy had also managed to get working again. It was fun to end a day by picking out one of the few movie films they’d managed to find, making some popcorn, then having the entire theater to themself. Several of the seats did have stuffed animals placed in them so the theater didn't feel quite so empty.

Other than that there was a staff room and a hidden staircase that led to the upper floor where Dyzzy’s bedroom was. The staff room had become Dyzzy’s computer/gaming room. They really enjoyed electronics and spent pretty much any extra money they had on new parts for their gaming systems or for games themselves. Dyzzy enjoyed electronics a lot. They were no genius, but had built a few computers with their dad when they were younger. They were also in the robotics club freshman year of highschool. Their dad had been an electrical engineer, and Dyzzy had wanted to follow in his footsteps when they grew up. Looking at everything they had been able to do with what little they could find, all on their own, Dyzzy supposed they kinda had.

Walking throughout the entire theater, pretty much every available blank area on a wall or ceiling had been covered up with posters, stolen street signs, graffiti, etc. The floor was littered with spray paint cans and other art supplies, despite Dyzzy's best efforts to keep the place “clean”.

With all the LED lights and random decor everywhere, this place would probably be extremely overwhelming for someone walking in for the first time. But to Dyzzy, it was home. They found their joy in the chaos, never slowing down, always something to do and see. Something to look forward to. They’d managed to make this place their own little piece of Gotham in the year and a half they’d lived here. A place only for them, that no one else knew about. That was the way they liked it.

Dyzzy made their way over to the “kitchen” and opened one of the lower cupboards. They pulled out a half full jar of crunchy peanut butter, then grabbed a plastic spoon from one of the old cash registers(that were now silverware drawers). They took a peek inside their “produce fridge” and spied that what few fruits and veggies that had been in there had gone bad. That's what they get for eating mac and cheese for almost every meal. One day they’ll eat healthy, Dyzzy thought as they looked at the large jar in their hand… but today was not that day. Cracking open the lid to a Monster Energy can, they made their way back upstairs to their room. Drowsy would probably also appreciate a late lunch, or very late breakfast.

~~~

Jason Todd was not one for early mornings, especially considering his night time “activities”. So, like most days, he slept in until fairly late in the afternoon. Usually eating breakfast at dinner time. He didn’t live in the Wayne manor anymore, hadn’t for some time, so Alfred wasn’t there to keep him on a semi-normal sleeping/eating schedule. It was fine, he liked the freedom, even if he did miss Alfred’s cooking. Jason’s stomach grumbled just thinking about it.

He sat up in bed and grabbed his phone, almost blinding himself with the light from the screen. Once his eyes adjusted he noticed he had a few notifications. He mostly disregarded them until he noticed he had a message from the Dyzzy’s Delivery app. He raised an eyebrow and opened the notification to read what it said.

Dyzzy’s Delivery: “Dyzzy’s Delivery will not be taking orders for the next few nights. A notice will be sent out when we are up and running again. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

This immediately worried Jason as he had known Dyzzy since before they started running the delivery service, and he hadn’t known them to ever just bail short notice on something like this. Dyzzy had been a Gotham kid, living on the streets for a few years now. He’d first met them two years ago, when they were fifteen. He was never able to get a full story out of them about how they ended up homeless, with no family to speak of. Despite how friendly and talkative the kid was, they were really good at keeping information they didn't want known from spilling.

He had helped them out in the beginning, as Red Hood, showing them which homeless shelters were actually safe. They never stayed in one for more than a day or two though, afraid someone would call CPS. So Red Hood eventually settled for giving them advice on where to get a free shower and what time to go to food banks to get the best stuff. Red Hood helped all the kids in Crime Alley and surrounding areas when he could, but for some reason he really worried about Dyzzy.

No, Jason knew the reason. Dyzzy was kind. They always had a smile and a joke, no matter the situation. Despite how bad everything got, Dyzzy never let it crush them. Jason admired that, how someone could remain so positive despite growing up in this type of environment. He wanted to protect that. He dreaded the day someone or something would take that smile away from Dyzzy. It was a bit of brightness in a dark city, and he felt some sort of responsibility to make sure it remained.

So he kept an eye on them, and eventually they found a place of their own. It took Jason an embarrassingly long amount of time to figure out where. Tailing that kid was actually impossible. They would turn a corner and just vanish into thin air. Eventually he managed to track them down to an abandoned movie theater in The Bowery.

Over time they would “run into” each other every few weeks. Dyzzy had expressed interest in Red Hood’s bike and Jason was all too happy to tell them everything about it, so it turned into little meetups where Red Hood would teach Dyzzy about how to work with engines and mod vehicles. They were always so enthusiastic about everything, and the day they showed up with that old shitty electric scooter is a day he’ll never forget. Dyzzy was so excited they couldn't hold still, bouncing up and down and running around practically yelling about all the things they wanted to do with it.

It had taken a lot of work, and some impatience on Jason’s part as Dyzzy instead on wiring everything themself. It took trial and error, but eventually Dyzzy had managed to make it work all on their own, with some(a lot) of help from Red Hood. They were so proud, and so was he. They were never one to give up on anything. Which is why them stopping deliveries so soon after starting their business(which Red Hood had tried very hard to talk them out of), even only for a few days, was incredibly worrying.

Or maybe Jason was just incredibly paranoid… Nah, that can't be it.

By the time he snapped out of his thoughts he was already dressed in his Red Hood gear. Jason pulled back his black out curtains to see it was just starting to get dark out. He had time before his patrol officially started, so he had time to stop by Dyzzy’s theater and check in. He put on his domino mask, then his helmet and set out into the night.

It did not take him very long to get there. He stopped his motorcycle in front of the building, the entire right half and front entrance collapsed. He circled around to the back of the building to find the only entrance that still stood, an emergency exit that led out of the one remaining screening room. He tried the door, it wouldn’t budge. Good, Dyzzy had actually locked the damn thing for once.

Red Hood knocked loudly on the door, already pulling out his phone to send a text to Dyzzy that he was there when the door suddenly swung outwards. He stumbled back a few steps, drawing one of his guns out of instinct.

“Hiya!” A chipper voice greeted him.

“Dyzzy? What the fuck? I knocked literally two seconds ago!” Jason said, lowering his gun as he saw Dyzzy smiling at him through the dark doorway. They were in what looked like pajamas, their orange hair sticking up on one side, as if they had just been lying down. How did they answer the door so fast? Did they see him coming? This place didn’t have any windows so how would they know it was him?

“Wait, didja just open the door without knowing who it was?” Jason asked, giving them a look that they either couldn't see through the helmet, or ignored.

“Yeah.” Dyzzy replied, still grinning like they hadn’t done anything wrong.

Jason would have pinched the bridge of his nose if it weren't covered. “Dyzzy, we’ve talked about this-”

“Are you coming inside or what?” Dyzzy asked, taking a step back and letting go of the door so Red Hood had to catch it.

Jason just shook his head and entered the building behind Dyzzy. Now that he was inside he could see a bit better and the first thing he noticed was a movie up on the big screen that had been paused. The second thing was that there was something in the hood of Dyzzy’s sweatshirt. He stopped walking after closing and locking the door behind him and asked, “So, what’ve ya got there?”

Dyzzy turned around, confused, before realizing what he was referring to. “Oh, meet Drowsy!” Dyzzy exclaimed, reaching back with a wince(that did not go unnoticed) to retrieve a baby opossum from their hood. The little thing blinked a few times before yawning as it hung in Dyzzy's grip. “Isn’t he just the cutest? He’s the new mascot for Dyzzy’s Delivery.”

Jason took note of the small rodent(okay, yes it is cute but he’s not going to admit that out loud), before taking in the rest of Dyzzy’s appearance. Their skin was pale, sweaty, and their left arm was shaking as they held it out. They had dark circles under their eyes, well, darker than usual. Not to mention the wince when grabbing Drowsy(yes, it's also a very cute name, sue him).

Dyzzy lowered their arms, transferring Drowsy to their right hand and holding him against their chest where he climbed his way up to their shoulders and settled against the back of their neck. Dyzzy scratched him on the head with her right hand and looked back up at Red Hood when they realized he wasn’t going to say anything about their new pet.

“What happened?” Red Hood asked, taking a step forward to close the distance between them. He reached out and lightly set his hand down on Dyzzy’s left shoulder. They immediately grimaced and shrunk away from his touch, as if it burned.

“Wow, you’re not even going to pretend to attempt small talk.” Dyzzy said, taking a step back so they were out of range from Red Hood’s grasp. Red Hood crossed his arms across his chest and Dyzzy rolled their eyes, plopping down into one of the seats in the front row of the theater.

“Just a light stabbing, nothing serious. Nightwing got to me almost immediately and took me to a clinic. He worries a lot.” Dyzzy said nonchalantly, as if they were just recounting their trip to the grocery store.

Red Hood’s eyes widened under his helmet. Dyzzy had been stabbed? And Dick didn’t fucking tell him?!

Dyzzy must have noticed the shift in his body language because they immediately started talking again, “I’m fine! Promise. It was an accident, they didn’t mean to.”

Dyzzy must have mistaken Jason’s anger at his brother for anger at whoever attacked them. Which, to be fair, he was also very mad about.

“They?” He asked, remaining standing with his arms crossed, fists clenched tight.

“Dude, chill.” Dyzzy said, squirming slightly in the seat like a kid who had just gotten in trouble. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“Dyzzy.” Red Hood warned, his voice modulator making his dark tone sound even more threatening. He didn’t mean to scare the kid, but he knew that they had a habit of protecting and giving second chances to those who did not deserve it. They saw the good in everyone, even when it wasn’t there, which is a really good way to get you killed in Gotham.

Dyzzy looked at the floor, staring at their fuzzy socks for a few seconds. “It was a group of kids. They just wanted money and food. Only one of them had a knife and he seemed scared to use it.” They started, their voice dropping the energetic cheer they had greeted him with. “I was going to get away, but I got dizzy, ha ha.” They said, half laughing at the pun. When Red Hood didn’t reciprocate Dyzzy’s attempt at humor, they continued. “I started to fall and the kid probably thought I was attacking him or something. They ran away right after, didn’t even take my bag or phone. Honestly think the whole situation scared them more than me.” Dyzzy finished with a shrug they immediately regretted, reaching over to grab their shoulder.

At that point Jason had calmed down enough to uncross his arms and sit down in the seat next to Dyzzy. “Fine, but you better not be lying.”

Dyzzy overdramaticlly gasped, placing their hand over their heart in fake shock, “I have never lied once in my entire life!”

There was a beat of silence before the two both cracked and started laughing. Once they both stopped, Red Hood spoke again, “So no deliveries for a while huh?”

“Yeah.” Dyzzy sighed, “I’m hoping to be good enough to go back out in a few days.”

Jason shook his head, “You got stabbed. It’s gonna be a week at least.”

“Oh come on man! How am I supposed to support my child without a job?” Dyzzy gestured to Drowsy who had snuggled back into their hood.
Jason rolled his eyes as Dyzzy grinned. “I’m sure you’ll manage. Maybe you could slow down on the energy drinks.” He said, giving them a pat on the head. Dyzzy swatted his hand away with the most offended look on their face. It reminded Jason a bit of Tim, when he would try to pull his younger brother away from a case he’d been working on without sleep for far too long. It made Jason grin seeing the comparison.

“What are you watching?” Red Hood asked, pointing up at the screen to change the subject before the teenager in front of him had a chance to cuss him out for daring to suggest that they stop drinking so much caffeine.

Dyzzy squinted their eyes at him, clearly knowing what he was doing, but answering anyway, “Godzilla. I’m only a third of the way into it, if you wanna watch. I made popcorn.” Dyzzy said, attempting to bribe him into staying… and it was working.

“Fine, but only if you’ve got butter.” Red Hood said, leaning back in his seat.

“Of course I have butter! What kind of heathen would eat movie theater popcorn WITHOUT BUTTER!?” Dyzzy said, bouncing to their feet. “I recommend sitting in the very back row, best seats in the house!” Dyzzy called over their shoulder, already making their way out of the room.

Jason smiled, sighing as he stood, and checked the time. He had at least an hour before needing to go out on patrol. He made his way up to the back row and sat in the middle seat, removing his helmet and making sure his secondary mask was still in place. After a few seconds he heard footsteps behind him, he looked up to see Dyzzy beaming down at him through the projector hole in the wall.

“Incoming!” Dyzzy called before dropping a half full bucket of popcorn down to him. Red Hood jumped up to catch the bucket before it had a chance to tip over and spill on him. He frowned up at Dyzzy while they suppressed a chuckle. Dyzzy then ducked their head back in and started the film going again. A few moments later they were jogging up the stairs to sit next to him in the back row.

Jason glanced back and forth from Dyzzy to the spot they had just been not 15 seconds prior. How did they get downstairs and into the screening room so quickly. He didn’t even hear their footsteps retreating or the door to the screening room open and close. He gave Dyzzy a curious look, but they didn’t notice. They were already focused on the movie. Jason decided to ignore it for now, he had a movie to watch.

~~~

Tim sat in the batcave staring at the multiple screens in front of him. Ever since seeing Dyzzy he had been curious about them. There had been more important things to do, investigations to run. Especially with Dick in town, he didn’t want to waste any time on things that weren't an immediate threat. But when Dick disappeared from his post only to turn up 30 minutes later reporting that Gotham’s favorite delivery guy had been stabbed, Tim figured it was about time to do some digging, and saying Gotham’s favorite was even more accurate than Tim expected. There were tons of positive reviews on Dyzzy’s Delivery, both the website and the app, from all kinds of people.

Some civilian families saying that Dyzzy had brought them their food while their street was actively under a rogue attack. Others praising Dyzzy for how fast they were, getting food from one side of town to the other and delivering it still warm, despite only having a scooter. There were enough of those to make Tim a little more than suspicious that it wasn’t just one person running this. There was even some reviews from known criminals, mob bosses, The Iceberg Lounge, and Harley Quinn had a few glowing things to say about Dyzzy as well. How had it taken THIS LONG for Tim to find out about this person?!

Moving on from the service, Tim focused on the deliverer. It was actually really easy to find information about them. Apparently a teen who went by Dyzzy (no second name given) had first shown up at a homeless shelter two years ago, but left after one night. Over the next year or so there were some records of Dyzzy dropping in at other shelters or soup kitchens in Gotham, but never staying more than a few days. There were a few police reports matching Dyzzy’s description for minor things like graffiti and shoplifting, but they were never able to bring them in. The kid’s slippery, Tim could admire that. Then there’s nothing for about 5 months before suddenly the delivery service popped up out of nowhere.

Tim wasn’t able to get much farther than that without a real name or a good photo of the person. He could scan all the traffic cameras for them, but without an exact location and time(that’s not a dark alleyway in the middle of the night), it would be nearly impossible. Even with Dyzzy’s bright hair, clothing, and personality(apparently).

Tim hated having to ask for help on a case, it felt like admitting defeat, but he was due to go out on patrol that night and needed to get some rest. He wouldn’t be able to do that with this nagging him in the back of his mind constantly. Eventually he caved and decided to shoot a message over to Barbara.

Tim: “Hey, I could use your help with someone I’m looking into, if you’ve got the time.”

Babs: “Ooh, Tim Drake asking for help? On a CASE!? What has the world come to?”

Tim rolled his eyes before responding. This was another reason he hated asking for help.

Tim: “Ha, ha. Very funny. I’m trying to find out more about that Delivery guy, Dyzzy. You think you could find me a good image of them?”

Babs: “Yeah, if you want… or I could just tell you their name?”
Tim shot up in his chair like a rocket, eyes wide.

Tim: “Their real name? First and last?”

Babs: “Yup.”

Tim: “HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?”

Babs: “They used to come into the library a lot. Eventually I convinced them to get a library card, mainly by promising free wifi and their own login for the computers. That kid loves gaming.”

Tim: “That still doesn’t explain how you know their full legal name!”

Babs: “Chill, I was getting to that. In order to get a library card you have to present some form of ID, that’s why it took so long to convince them to get one. They presented me with an old highschool ID. It was from a few years back, but the photo was obviously them, only with longer hair that hadn’t been dyed. It was from the only public highschool in the narrows.”

Tim thought about that for a moment. He wondered what had happened to push this teenager onto the street. If they had a highschool ID, they must have had a home before showing up at that shelter under the name Dyzzy two years ago. He looked back down at his phone when another message came through.

Babs: “I didn’t dig into it at all, cuz they seemed like they were doing alright for themself, but I made sure to keep a note of their name just in case. Ari Johnson, although the ID had AJ written on it in sharpie, so I’m assuming that is what they went by.”

Tim nodded at this information, already typing it into the computer’s search engine, before going back to his phone and sending a quick “thanks”. Barbara responded with a thumbs up emoji, but Tim didn’t see it, having already started reading the results on the screen.

TOP RESULT: Massive Car Crash Caused by Particle Accelerator Takes Many Lives -Picture News

Tim stared at the screen for a few moments, confused. Why was an article from Central City the top result? Barbara had said this kid had a Gotham ID, so he had assumed they lived in Gotham. He clicked on the article and read through it until he got to a list of the deceased. A creeping suspicion grew in the back of his head as he scrolled down through the names. His suspicion was confirmed just a moment later when the name ‘Ari Johnson’ peered back at him from the screen. It was followed by two other names ‘Laura Johnson’ and ‘Paul Johnson’.

Another quick search told him what he already knew. Those other two names where Dyzzy’s, or AJ’s, parents, and apparently they were dead. All of them were, or were supposed to be. The day “Dyzzy” appeared at the shelter for the first time is only a few days after their supposed death. How did they get from being dead in a wreck in Central City, to walking into a shelter (supposedly unharmed, or at least without any noticeable major injuries) in less than 72 hours? They didn’t have any of the physical markings of the lazarus pit, from what Tim could tell, and that would have been something that was mentioned by at least one of his brothers months ago if they did.

Suddenly a new theory popped into his brain. Tim quickly pulled out his phone and messaged the family group chat(aka The Bat Chat).

Tim: “I have a theory.”

Dick: “When do you not?”

Babs: “Is it about Dyzzy?”

Duke: “The delivery app?”

Tim: “How did you know about that before me? You patrol during the day!”

Duke: “I’m just that good.”

Tim: “Babs told you?”

Duke: “ Babs told me.”

Babs: “Snitch.”

Duke: “Hey! He already figured it out!”

Damian Wane: “Hush. What is your theory about the owner of said delivery service?”

Tim: “Did EVERYONE know about this before me?!”

Damian Wane: “Yes.”

Dick: “Yeah”

Duke: “yup”

Babs: “Pretty much.”

Cass: *thumbs up emoji*

Bruce: “I thought you already knew and were choosing not to order fast food when you have a diet and regiment you’re supposed to be following.”

Tim: “WTF”

Jason: “Get on with it! What do you know about Dyzzy?”

Duke: “Woah, you got Jason to respond!”

Babs: “A rare occurrence indeed.”

Jason: “I’m not going to if this is how you’re gonna act everytime.”

Duke: “ :( “

Damian Wane: “Out with it already.”

Tim: “Fine! Gosh.”

Tim: “I was looking deeper into who Dyzzy really is after Nightwing found them stabbed in an alley. Babs apparently already knew their legal name, Ari Johnson / AJ, so after learning that I was able to find out something very interesting.”

Tim: “Apparently Ari Johnson died in a massive car wreck in Central City over two years ago.”

Dick: “What?”

Babs: “I thought they were a gotham kid?”

Damian Wane: “I think you are missing the point Barbara. That is around the same time the particle accelerator incident happened.”

Tim: “Same day actually.”

Duke: “(ﾟ0ﾟ)”

Dick: “So do you think…?’

Tim: “Yeah, I’m pretty sure we have a meta on our hands.”

Chapter Text

Jason (or Red Hood, considering he was in his vigilante costume) clutched his phone in his hand, staring at the screen glowing brightly in the darkness of the theater. His fist clutched tightly around the device, almost cracking the screen protector. He didn’t want to believe the words staring back at him, but he couldn’t deny what he had already suspected in the back of his mind. The way Dyzzy was always able to lose him without even trying or seeming to have known he was there. How they just disappeared into thin air after turning a corner. How they somehow went back and forth across Gotham all night without a real means of transportation. He would have noticed someone speeding down the streets and through alleyways (which you would have to be doing in order to make it to all the places Dyzzy delivered to in the timeframe that they did).

Theories raced through his head as green slowly began to grow at the corners of his vision. How had The Bats figured out this before him? And OF CORSE Tim had to go and tell everyone, even before he knew for sure. Batman was probably already planning on how to corner Dyzzy to interrogate them. Jason wasn’t sure which thought angered him more, Bruce scaring the shit out of the kid and making them leave Gotham for something they couldn’t control, or Bruce looking at Dyzzy and seeing another innocent kid to turn into a child solder.

He couldn’t let either of those things happen, especially after last night. This kid obviously had no survival instincts, anyone could tell that after talking to them for five seconds. Dyzzy was just so… happy? They treated everyone like a friend and even defended the people who robbed and almost killed them (okay, maybe that’s overreacting a little bit, but they could’ve been stabbed in the heart! It was TOO CLOSE for comfort for Jason). Dyzzy had zero way of defending themself as far as Jason could tell, and he had spent quite a lot of time with them. Not to mention how clumsy they were. Always falling over, or standing up and suddenly going blind and deaf for a few moments before just moving on with their day. Even when Dyzzy had explained that it was a medical condition they had had thier entire life, that hadn’t made it any less terrifying for Jason when they would suddenly fall unconscious.

He couldn’t let another kid fall victim to Bruce’s trap. Promising family and than taking it away the moment something happens he doesn’t like. The moment you step “out of line”. Jason’s anger continued to grow and he gritted his teeth, glaring daggers at his phone, although he couldn’t even see it anymore. Lost in his thoughts as his mind spiraled. Suddenly he felt a soft nudge. It took almost all of his willpower not to let his fighting instincts take over and attack whatever was touching him. He turned, still a little to aggressively than he meant to, towards the seat next to him to see Dyzzy looking up at him with both an amused and slightly concerned look. They didn’t flinch at Red Hood’s sudden reaction, just gave him a half smile and said, “You do realize you're in a movie theater right?” They made an obvious point to glance down at he phone in Red Hood’s hand has they said it.

Jason couldn’t help but let out a short laugh as the anger almost immediately simmered down to a low hum in the back of his head. “Sorry,” he responded, clicking off the phone and putting it back into one of the inside pockets of his leather jacket.

“You should be.” Dyzzy said, their grin widening a bit further, “Next time I’ll have to ask you to leave the theater without a refund. This is your only warning.” Dyzzy shifted their voice a bit deeper and tried to make it sound more professional. Jason couldn’t help but let a small smile pull at the corners of his lips as he held his hands up in a mock surrender. “Understood, I’ll keep it in mind.” He humored. Dyzzy nodded authoritatively, as if saying ‘you better’, but the little laugh they let out through their nose at Red Hood’s actions betrayed their serious expression.

“I should actually get out there. Sun set a bit ago.” Red Hood said, putting his hands down and picking his red helmet up off the chair next to him that Dyzzy wasn’t seated in. He was careful not to leave his helmet unattended around the kid after they hand spray painted a smiley face on it when he had gone to the bathroom one of the times he had helped them with their scooter. The little shit had tried multiple more times to add flowers or other things to his bike and helmet since then, but Jason had learned to keep a better eye on them.

“What? But the movie isn’t over!” Dyzzy whined.

“It’s Godzilla. I already know how it ends.” Jason replied, standing up.

“NO SPOILERS!!” Dyzzy shouted, clamping their hands over their ears while trying not to laugh at their totally hilarious joke.

Jason rolled his eyes as he stepped past Dyzzy, not letting them see him succeeding at suppressing his own chuckle. Dyzzy constantly made puns and jokes and most, if not all, of them weren’t actually that good, but the thing that did make them funny was the fact that Dyzzy thought they were, and would always crack almost immediately after telling them. Their laugh was the thing that made Jason smile. It was so incredibly contagious.

Dyzzy mumbled a few complaints as they followed Red Hood hed towards the emergency exit at the front of the screening room that he had entered through. He just sighed, shaking his head before putting the helmet on. “Stay safe and take it easy.” He said, pointing at Dyzzy, specifically their shoulder where the wound was.

“Yeah yeah.” Dyzzy rolled their eyes in response. Taking that as an acceptable answer, Red Hood pulled the door open and left.

~~~

Dyzzy listened as Red Hood’s motorcycle sped away. They sighed, letting their shoulder’s slump slightly. They always really enjoyed it when he came over, even though they were still a little upset he had figured out where they lived. It felt nice having someone care about them. Kinda like having an older sibling.

Dyzzy turned the lock on the door and pulled a somewhat heavy box over in front of it as well, as a secondary precaution Red Hood had insisted they take. Dyzzy had pretended to be annoyed by it, and acted like it was some HUGE inconvenience, but truthfully it did feel nice to have that extra bit of protection there.

Now disinterested with finishing the movie, Dyzzy teleported back up into the projector room and stopped the film. They carefully re-wound the reel and placed it back in a small pile with the few others they had also managed to find. They then plopped down onto their bed, pulling their phone out of their big hoodie pocket and plugging it in to charge before lying down to… most likely play games on their phone actually. What were they supposed to do at night if they couldn’t make deliveries? Sleep like most normal people? That’s a stupid idea.

They reached up with their non-injured arm to grab Drowsy from the hood of their sweatshirt. “How you doin’ little guy?” Dyzzy asked, now holding the baby opossum in both hands. Drowsy opened his mouth wide in a yawn, making a small squeaking sound as he did so.

“You’re so right, I could also go for some food right now.” Dyzzy responded, immediately popping down to the ‘kitchen’ to see what snacks they still had. Drowsy didn’t seem to mind (or even notice) when Dyzzy teleported. It had taken Dyzzy a while to get used to the sudden shift. At first it kind of felt like when you’ve been hanging upside down for too long and all the blood has rushed to your head, then suddenly getting put rightside up. That pressure building and releasing was pretty close to the feeling of teleporting, except throughout your whole body. Maybe because opossums sleep upside down anyway they don’t get that feeling?

Dyzzy grabbed a few packages of those cheesy peanut butter crackers that don't actually taste like cheese or peanut butter, but were still delicious nonetheless, and popped back into their bed, plopping down on their nest of pillows. They tore open a package with their teeth and handed a cracker to Drowsy, who happily began munching away.

Dyzzy and Drowsy had almost finished the third package of crackers when Dyzzy’s phone began to vibrate. Dyzzy raised an eyebrow. Who would be calling them? Very few people actually had their cell number and their app didn’t allow phone calls, just messages. They picked up their phone, glancing at the caller ID. Their face split into a grin as they answered the call. “HEYYYYY!” Dyzzy practically shouted into their phone.

“HIYA!” Harley Quinn’s distinct voice replied, just as loudly, from the other end. “Where are ya? You don't have the app up if you hadn’t noticed!”

“Yeah, got stabbed. Can’t deliver for a few nights.” Dyzzy responded casually.

“Aw, shucks. How’d you manage that?” Harley asked, sounding more disappointed than concerned.

“Attempted robbery. All they got was the pizza I was delivering… to Nightwing, who promptly freaked the fuck out when i told him I’d be late and demanded to come to my rescue.”

Harley giggled, “Awww, look at you!! Making friends!”

“I’m going to have a whole collection of Bats if this continues.” Dyzzy responded with their own chuckle and an eye roll that Harley could absolutely sense over the phone.

“Be careful I don’t want you falling in with the right crowd.” Harley warned, although Dyzzy couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not based on the way she said it.

“Of course. Wouldn't want to hang out with too many good influences.”

“So that means you’re free for a few nights, yeah?” Harley asked.

“What do you want?” Dyzzy grinned, already knowing the actual meaning behind Harley’s question.

“Well, if you’re offering, Ivy wants to go, um, dismantle some buildings that are doing bad things for the environment in the next city over and I figured I could make it sorta a date! But I can’t leave Brucie alone for multiple days, and-”

Dyzzy cut Harley off as she started to ramble, “You want me to babysit your hyena while you and your girlfriend romantically blow up some assholes.”

“You got it! I knew you’d understand! Awesome! Great, thanks, I’ll leave a note for ya. You already know my address! Thanks again! Bye!” Harley practically squealed through the phone before hanging up. Dyzzy sat there a little stunned before looking over to Drowsy, as if he would be able to clarify anything. He stared back up at them, unblinking. Dyzzy looked back at the phone in their hand before shrugging and flopping backwards into their nest. “Guess I’ll head over tomorrow? I should probably pack some snacks, I don’t think Harley actually has any food at her place considering how much she orders in.”

Dyzzy turned to lay on their uninjured side, Drowsy tiredly waddling over to curl up directly under their chin. They closed their eyes and decided maybe they could give sleeping at night a try, especially if they were going to be pet-sitting the next day, and possibly longer? Harley had not given much information, which was usual. She did say she would leave a note, but Dyzzy already knew it probably wouldn’t have any more useful information on it. Whatever, at least they wouldn’t be bored!

~~~

Dyzzy arrived at Harley’s place in the early afternoon. They had stopped for lunch on their way over and also grabbed some ‘supplies’. Mostly junk food, but also some dog treats and more cans of cat food for Drowsy, who was back in the hood of Dyzzy’s sweatshirt. They hadn’t bothered changing before coming over, other than putting on a new pair of sweats that had big cargo pockets on the sides. They also had their backpack, with their laptop and charger, a few extra clothes, as well as some cans of spray paint and other miscellaneous things for Dyzzy to fidget with for however long Harley and Ivy were gone.

They pulled their scooter up next to the fire escape and, after quickly checking no one was looking, disappeared from the alley and reappeared on the fire escape next to the window into Harley’s living room. They peeked through the window to see if Harley had left yet. It would be kind of hard to explain if Dyzzy suddenly just appeared in her living room. It was connected to the kitchen, with a couch officially separating the two areas.

Everything inside was so incredibly chaotic, Dyzzy loved it. None of the furniture matched except for the fact that all of it looked like it had come from a dumpster, which was probably true. Along with the couch there was an armchair, coffee table covered and random trash, and box TV sitting on a table that did not seem like it should be able to hold it. In the ‘kitchen’ area there were all the normal things; sink, oven, stove, microwave, dishwasher, and cabinets. The dishwasher was being used as storage, as it was most likely broken(same with the oven), and the stove looked like it hadn't been used in forever if the pile of styrofoam boxes and paper plates on top was anything to go by.

Two barstools(one with only three legs instead of four) were pulled up to the island counter, which seemed to be the only place semi-clear of debris. A piece of paper was sitting on it. Most likely the note, Dyzzy assumed. The walls and ceiling hadn’t been spared either, being covered in papers, pictures, weapons(both jabbed into the wall and on actual display), spray paint, and what Dyzzy was pretending wasn’t blood splatter, all overtop an absolutely awful wallpaper. A bead curtain blocked the view further down the hall. Lastly a large dog crate sat in the corner of the room, holding a very excited looking hyena who was staring at Dyzzy with it’s tongue hanging out.

Dyzzy, figuring the coast was clear, teleported into the room. Their feet immediately crunched on the trash and other objects that littered the floor. Dyzzy didn’t mind. They leaned their scooter up against the wall next to the window, being careful of the succulents on the windowsill. Dyzzy knew for a fact the only reason they were still alive was because of Ivy. “Guess I’m also on plant-sitting duty, huh?” Dyzzy said amused, looking at the plants then back over at the kennel.

“Hi Brucie!” Dyzzy cooed in a high pitched voice, moving over to the hyena. Bruce went from sitting to standing almost instantly and made an almost chirping sound towards Dyzzy. Dyzzy had met Bruce a few times while delivering, on the nights when Harley was the delivery and had managed to convince Dyzzy to come in and hang out for a bit. Dyzzy honestly found him very sweet and cute, a bit of a cuddler too, once he warms up to you. So they wern’t scared at all of the ‘wild animal’.

They dropped their backpack amongst the clutter on the floor and pulled out some of the dog treats they had picked up, before opening the kennel and offering one to Bruce. He immediately snatched it out of their hand as Dyzzy began scratching the top of his head, in between the ears. When Bruce had finished the treat he managed to land a few good licks on Dyzzy’s face. Dyzzy laughed and stood up, allowing Bruce to come out of his crate. He trotted over to the armchair and hopped up on it, curling up in the perfect hyena-sized indent left in the old leather.

Dyzzy watched as they walked over to the kitchen island and grabbed the note. It was actually a lot more legible than they thought it would have been, with correct spelling, punctuation, and smooth handwriting. It wasn’t until the end of the note that they understood why. It was signed ‘Poison Ivy’ at the bottom. Still smiling Dyzzy shoved the note in one of their pockets and made a bullet point list of all the important info in their head.

Harley and Ivy should only be gone for one night, and be back tomorrow evening. They might end up staying elsewhere for the second night and coming home early the next morning. Harley will call if anything changes. Bruce needs a bath and other than that just make sure his food and water dishes don't run out. There’s a bag of food under the island counter. Keep him in his dog crate at night and if Dyzzy leaves the house. Pretty straightforward.

Dyzzy places the note back on the counter and plops down on the couch, grabbing their bag and pulling out their laptop. They paused for a moment, realizing they had forgotten to ask for the wifi password, then remembered that Harley probably didn’t have wifi. Dyzzy sighed and began searching the networks around the area, nothing good nearby. That was about what Dyzzy expected. They figured they’d head to an internet cafe tomorrow as they stowed their laptop back in their bag and flipped on the TV.

That lasted for all of twenty seconds before Dyzzy got bored and got back up off the couch. They surveyed the home once again, taking note of all the garbage and weapons covering the floor. Now, Dyzzy wasn’t a neat person by any means, but even they felt like this was a little… much. Also they had nothing to do and going through Harley Quinn’s shit sounded pretty cool right about now. Dyzzy turned back to Bruce, still sitting on his chair, “You know where the trashbags are buddy?”

~~~

It was a fairly quiet night in Gotham. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy had left town, which was suspicious, but they had retreated from Batman’s territory, therefore they were no longer his problem. Damian (aka Robin) mused from atop a building, overlooking the street below. He wasn’t supposed to be in this part of town, as Red Hood had warned the Bats about hanging around crime alley and his alleged territories. He wasn’t supposed to be out at all actually. He was supposed to be at home sleeping in his bed because father had begun placing a curfew on school nights. It was all Timothy’s fault for staying up so much and being addicted to caffeine.

However, Damian was curious, and he had a bet to win. Timothy had discovered this Dyzzy Delivery person was a meta, but was having trouble deciphering what their power set might be. From all information he could find they just seemed like a normal teenager, about Timothy’s age, with no substantial talent whatsoever. Traffic camera footage certainly showed their blatant disregard for sidewalk safety with the way they rode around on that scooter. Damian could easily see Todd’s handwork at play there.

Damian had bet that he would be able to figure out what the meta’s abilities were, or if they even had them(which he doubted). Timothy agreed almost immediately, which Damian knew he would. Then Timothy let word slip about their wager and now Richard and Barbra were in on it too. It wasn’t that Damian couldn’t handle more competition, it was just annoying is all.

Damian peered down at the streets from the highest building in Crime Alley that he could find. He had figured out that the delivery person lived in this general area. He had easily put together that they must be somewhat close with Todd for him to be helping them with their scooter, therefore they most likely lived within Red Hood’s territory. It was certainly dangerous being here, not because Damin couldn’t handle his own against Red Hood, but because father would be very cross if he found out.

Damian knew that the delivery person would likely not be out due to the injury they had sustained (and the fact that their app was currently closed), but, if Richard and Timothy had said was to be believed, then this person did not have much common sense when it came to their safety or well being. He figured, even if they didn’t find “Dyzzy”, then this would still be a good night for reconnaissance. Damian had of course memorized the layout of Gotham, but looking at a map and actually swinging down those streets were two very different things.

Damian’s head suddenly perked up at the sound of shattering glass and loud voices, immediately beginning to swing in the direction it came from. It was fairly faint, probably a few streets over. By the time he got close enough to figure out which street it was on he could see the fire and smell the smoke. The apartment above what looked like an abandoned, or extremely run down, store was just beginning to go up in flames. The fire looked like it was mostly limited to the first floor and the exterior.

He could see many figures silhouetted by the quickly growing blaze. They were throwing bottles with burning rags stuffed into the tops into the storefront. A few of them were also standing around the back of the building, watching the fire escape. It was clear that these people were trying to flush someone out of the building, although Damian wasn’t at a good enough angle to see if there was movement inside through the windows.

Robin jumped down into the alleyway, pulling out his sword and dispatching with the men there first. They were pretty big guys, most likely goons for someone, as they seemed a bit slow to react to Robin dropping on them. A few pulled out guns, but Robin managed to take them down before too much noise was made. He crept around the side of the building, glancing up at the fire escape as he did so. Still no movement from inside from what he could tell.

He was debating whether to go inside and attempt to find whomever may be trapped in there, or take down the rest of the goons currently burning the building down. He peeked around the corner to the front, spying at least another fifteen figures still yelling and throwing things into the fire. He could probably take them all out, but by the time he does the apartment would be fully ablaze with no hope of retrieving the resident.

Making up his mind, Robin took a few steps back into the alley and shot his grappling hook up onto the fire escape. Quickly making it to the window he looked inside. There was some movement but it was hard to tell as smoke was beginning to fog up the glass. Not wasting anymore time Robin jabbed the hilt of his sword through the window, shattering it. A plume of smoke billowed out, causing him to cough for a moment. He pulled a half gas mask off of his utility belt and quickly put it on, then entered.

It was much easier to see now that he was inside. It was a lot to take in, with all the colors and weapons and everything, but his eyes were immediately drawn to a shorter figure with bright orange hair that had been somewhat darkened by the soot in the air. They were holding a backpack, desperately trying to get it zipped closed, while leaning against a couch that had been pushed in front of the front door. The were obviously people on the other side attempting to get in, banging and yelling. A few bullet holes littered the door as well. Perhaps the most unexpected thing was a hyena that was also growling at the door, and appeared ready to pounce should someone break through.

Robin stood for a moment before he was noticed, meeting eyes with the person attempting to keep the door closed. Robbin opened his mouth to tell them to follow him out of the apartment, but all that came out was, “You’re Dyzzy’s Delivery.”

“And you’re breaking and entering.” Dyzzy retorted.

Robin scoffed, taken aback. “I am saving you!”

“Stomping all over Ivy’s plants is what you’re doing!” Dyzzy shot back, leaving the couch to come over towards him. Robin raised his sword towards Dyzzy before realizing they were headed for the window. He quickly stepped aside to let them climb out, only for them to begin gingerly picking up some potted plants that had fallen to the ground when he had broken the window.

“What are you doing? We need to leave. The building is on fire if you hadn’t noticed.” Robin yelled, having to raise his voice over the sound of the yelling and fire.

“No shit! Really?” Dyzzy yelled back, sarcastically. They coughed on the smoke as if to prove their point. It was pretty obvious Dyzzy was panicked, but they weren't treating the situation with the urgency it required.

“You aren’t going to be able to climb down the fire escape with those, leave them!” Robin shouted, attempting to pull the succulents out of their hands. Dyzzy jerked away, a small smile on their lips, although Robin couldn’t understand why. Could it be all the smoke going to their head?

There was a loud CRACK as the front door splintered in and several men started pushing past the couch into the room.

“Fuck. Time to go!” Dyzzy said, shifting all of the plants over into one arm. “Brucie! Come here boy!” They called out to the hyena who had just leapt onto one of the men and was actively biting his arm. The hyena perked his head up at his name being called and ran over to the pair standing by the window. It nervously stood next to Dyzzy, still snarling at the men, but also giving Robin a distrusting glance.

“You got your own way out?” Dyzzy asked, looking to Robin.

“Yes, of course!” Robin answered immediately, seeming almost offended that Dyzzy would dare to ask. Dyzzy rolled their eyes, with that same smirk they had on before. Robin was about to question them as to what they meant. As he opened his mouth Dyzzy reached down to wrap an arm around the neck of the hyena and squeezed their eyes closed. Then suddenly, they were gone.

The smoke swirled at the sudden rush of air that filled the space that that had once been in. Robin stood there with his mouth open before the sound of a gunshot sounded and a bullet embedded itself in the wall right where Dyzzy had stood. Robin spun around, throwing his birdarangs at the man who had just fired. The other man was helping the third off of the floor from where the hyena had attacked him.

It hit the assailant square in the forehead, making him stumble back into his associates and giving Robin plenty of time to slip back out the window before more shots could be taken. He made it down into the alley only to spot a familiar red motorcycle sat there. Looking back around to the front of the building, he could see Red Hood had it all but handled. Great, now all Robin had to do was leave without Todd noticing his presence.

Robin backed out of view and turned to shoot his grappling hook up at the next building over(that was not on fire), but was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. Damian smacked it off, spinning around with his sword out, pointing it at an unimpressed Red Hood’s chest. Damian did not lower his sword.

“What are you doing here?” Red Hood asked, his voice more frustrated than angry.

Damian straightened up his posture, sheathing his sword finally. “Investigating.”

“Investigating what?” Red Hood crossed his arms.

Damian paused for a second, weighing his options, before responding. “I know you’re familiar with that delivery person, correct?”

Jason tensed at the mention of Dyzzy, clenching his fists. “What were you investigating?” HIs voice was definitely angry now, if it hadn’t been earlier.

“Obviously you care about them too from the looks of it.” Damian eyed Red Hood’s protective body language and immediate mood shift, although the ladder was not that uncommon. Even though Damian could not see past Red Hood’s helmet he could tell that Jason was narrowing his eyes. Damian decided to just share what he had learned. It was the most likely thing to get Todd off his back, and hopefully distract him enough that Damian can leave without further questioning as to why he was looking into Dyzzy.

“I have found some information you may be interested in, as long as you do not inform Father I was here. Or Timothy, I’ve just won a bet.”

Chapter Text

Dyzzy suddenly appeared in the trashed lobby of their theater with a panicking hyena under one arm, a bunch of succulents in the other, and an opossum in the hood of their favorite sweatshirt. Their favorite sweatshirt that now had singed sleeves and smelled like smoke.

“Damn it..” Dyzzy groaned as Brucie wiggled out of their grasp. Maybe their sweatshirt isn't the thing they should be focusing on right now.

“Brucey! Hey Bud! It's okay.” Dyzzy carefully set the succulents on the ground and wobbled a bit while standing back up. “Oh fuck.” Dyzzy murmured, feeling their head get heavy and their vision start to go in and out of focus.

They had overdone it. They knew they would. They'd only ever teleported themself and Drowsy before. Plus their scooter and backpack, but inanimate objects weren't hard to bring with anymore. A whole ass hyena? Who was wiggling and panicking? Yeah, a bit more difficult. They'd wondered what their limit was, guess they found it.

Dyzzy leaned forward, if they were going to fall they'd rather not land on the opossum in their hood. Fuck, that would mean they were going to land on their face, and their stab wound… but more importantly their face. Dyzzy instinctively put a hand forward to try to stop their fall. Were they falling already? It didn't feel like they were moving. It felt like the floor was. And very quickly apparently as it was rushing up at them.

“Mother F-” was all Dyzzy managed to get out before they hit the ground.

~~~

Red Hood sped across town on his motorcycle, cutting through alleyways and driving on sidewalks if he had to. Most of the crime in Crime Alley and the surrounding area was hiding. A house had gone up in flames, Robin and Red Hood got in a shouting match and now Red Hood is rushing somewhere, extraordinarily pissed off. Not a good night to be a drug dealer, especially with one of the bats venturing into the area.

“Call Neon Idiot.” Red Hood commanded the voice recognition in his helmet.

After ringing for what felt like years the same prerecorded voice message responded for the 7th time, “Yo! It’s Dyzzy! I'm probably hyper focused or in a food coma. I'll call ya back if my phone hasn't exploded. Byeeeeee!” which was followed by a mechanical voice, “Would you like to leave a message?” Red Hood clenched down on the handles of his motorcycle harder, his vision tinted with green. It was surprising he hadn't torn them off the bike at this point.

Red Hood had been non stop sending messages and calling Dyzzy. They always answered almost immediately. They were never away from their phone. Well, except for that one time they tried to extend the battery to over 48 hours and it overheated and burst into flames. Once he got close enough, Red Hood ditched his motorcycle a few blocks away from Dyzzy's theater, putting it in standby mode. He marched his way to the back entrance and began banging on the door. When, after a few seconds, Dyzzy hadn't opened the door with their signature goofy grin, Jason's anger almost immediately flipped to worry. He pounded on the door again, shouting, “Dyzzy! Open the fucking door! You better be in there! Dyzzy!”

When there was once again no answer, Jason backed up a few feet, then ran at the old metal door and drop kicked the fucker. There was a satisfying crunch of metal as his boots hit square in the center of the door, quickly followed by the worst fucking sound in the world. The door screeched as metal grinded against metal as it was torn from its frame and the rusted hinges snapped. Jason hit the ground at the same time as the door and quickly flipped up to his feet and dashed inside the building.

The big screen was dark and the only light to see by was from the string lights Dyzzy always kept on up in the projector’s booth. He ascended the stairs, jumping over seats, to get to the booth and peered inside. There was an empty nest of blankets and stuffed animals, food wrappers and crumbs littered around, and a mess of wires running in random directions, but no Dyzzy.

“Dyzzy! Where are you?” Jason shouted, his voice echoing in the empty theater. He listened for a moment, before hearing an animalistic whine. Jason snapped towards the direction he heard it from. He quickly descended from the projector booth and ran out of the auditorium into the hallway.

He followed the only direction available, towards the main lobby, as the other way the hallway lead was collapsed. As he skidded into the lobby he was greeted by a hyena about 15 feet away from him, growling and snarling at him. All other emotions gave way to confusion for a moment before he saw Dyzzy lying face down on the floor just behind it.

“Fuck!” He went to rush forward but the hyena jumped and snapped at him. Was it… protecting Dyzzy? Of course Dyzzy would find a way to befriend and fucking hyena in Gotham. Jason put a hand up, “I cant belive I’m talking to a fucking hyena right now.” He muttered under his breath before speaking up, “I'm a friend of theirs too. Just let me check on them.”

The hyena stopped actively biting at him, but didn't move out of the way. “I don't want to hurt you. Dyzzy wouldn't ever forgive me, but I will if you don't fucking move.” Jason practically growled back, staring the hyena down.

“Brucie, stop.” A weak and tired sounding voice said. Jason's eyes snapped from the hyena, Brucie apparently, to Dyzzy. They had lifted their head up and managed to get the arm on their uninjured side underneath them as they tried to push themselves into a sitting position. Brucie eyed Jason suspiciously, but stopped snarling and slowly padded over to Dyzzy.

“Dyzzy. Are you okay?” Jason asked, taking a tentative step forward, not wanting to set Brucie off, especially now that he was right next to Dyzzy.

“I'm fine. Just fainted.” Dyzzy responded groggily, placing an arm on Brucie and using him to help them sit up.

“Just fainted, huh?” Jason accused, sounding unconvinced. He noted the holes burnt into the sleeves of the sweatshirt he had rarely ever seen them take off, and the charred soles of their sharpied shoes.

“Yeah?” Dyzzy responded, the faintest amount of sass making its way into their voice. “How did you get in here?”

“Kicked the door in.” Jason said, finally managing to approach the opposite side of Dyzzy than Brucie. He knelt down and tentatively grabbed Dyzzy's wrist, checking their pulse. It was still slightly elevated. Best not to move them right now.

Dyzzy didn't bother trying to yank their hand away, like they usually did when someone tried to check on them. They did insist they were fine though. Predictable.

“Stop worrying, it's a bad look for a mob boss.” Dyzzy said, their voice getting some strength back.

“Shut up.” Jason responded, his voice rough.

“Oh, did I offend the big scary Red Hood, honestly-”

“No, shut up! I mean it. I'm not joking around with you right now.” Jason snapped, a little more aggressively than he meant to.

Dyzzy's mouth snapped closed as their face went from exhaustion with a slight smirk, to fear and adrenaline.

Jason cursed under his breath as he let go of Dyzzy and hung his head. A few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again. “Dyzzy, I know you were in the fire.” He said, looking up to see Dyzzy’s reaction.

Their eyes immediately filled with panic and they almost immediately began fidgeting with their hands, looking down into their lap. “Oh.” They said softly, like a kid in trouble.

“I'm not mad at you, okay? So, just relax.” Jason said, leaning back to sit on the floor instead of crouching.

Dyzzy didn't look up at him, but reached back into their hood to grab Drowsy. They placed the opossum in their lap and began combing its wiry fur with their fingers. “Well, I'm not burnt or anything. My heart rate just got elevated and I passed out. I do it all the time.”

Jason shook his head. He took his helmet off, running a hand through his hair to try to tame the mess it was, and peered at Dyzzy through his domino mask. “Yeah, I know. That's not what I'm here about.” Jason started, the “conversation” he had had with that demon running through his head, making him angry all over again. Dyzzy must have noticed because they began speaking nervously.

“Are you here because that was Harley's place? Listen, she just asked me to pet sit.” Dyzzy gestured to the hyena that had laid down at this point, but hadn't stopped eyeing Jason with malicious intent. “She and Ivy are on a date and they didn't want Brucie to be left alone and I-”

Dyzzy was cut off by Jason raising a hand to stop their rambling. Jason had actually forgotten that it had been Harley Quinn's apartment that was torched, but that wasn't what mattered right now. Jason took a breath, letting it out slowly to allow the green to fade from the corners of his vision.

“Dyzzy, how did you get back here so quickly?” Jason asked, trying to give Dyzzy a chance to tell him they were a meta. He knew if he came out and said it it would either scare Dyzzy more, or break whatever trust they'd built.

Dyzzy looked at him confused, but he could see their eyes searching for an excuse before locking back on his. “I rode my scooter?” They said, with a “duh” tone of voice, as if it was the most obvious answer ever. And it would be, if Jason hadn't found their scooter half melted in Harley’s no-longer apartment.

Jason gave them a look that Dyzzy immediately understood as ‘I know you're lying’. Instead of going back to their fidgeting or looking away from Jason, they doubled down. Their face hardened and they leaned back on their hands, staring at Red Hood as if to say, ‘try me’.

Jason sighed, resigning himself to having to say what he was really hoping not to. “I know you're a meta.”

~~~

“What!?” Tim shouted, looking at his soot covered younger brother as he peeled off his domino mask. Tim had been sitting at the bat computer, his usual spot if not on patrol, looking at some files for a case when Damian came swinging into the bat cave smelling like a bonfire. Before Tim could question where the fire was, and why he hadn't reported it, Damin had declared that he had confirmed Dyzzy was a meta.

“I said, Timothy, that I have met and confirmed, without a doubt, that Ari Johnson is a meta.” Damian said proudly, removing his Robin suit.

“Yeah, I heard you. Spill!” Tim responded, rolling his eyes.

“You are the one who asked for clarification.” Damian responded. “Should I wait for others so I don't have to explain myself multiple times?”

Tim could tell Damian was specifically dragging this out to annoy him… it was working. “Just give your report.” Tim grumbled, standing up from the chair in front of the computer and gesturing for Damian to take his place.

“Hm.” Damian smiled ever so slightly to himself at being able to annoy Tim. Also at the fact that he had information Timothy wanted. Damian walked over and took a seat at the bat computer. The chair made Damian look even smaller than he already was. The chair was huge, as it had been made for someone as large as his father. The computer was also massive, having multiple screens and keyboards.

He began typing his report, recounting the events of the evening with Timothy reading over his shoulder.

“You went to crime alley!?” Tim exclaimed as Damian was typing. “Yes Timothy,” Damian responded, “there was a fire. What did you expect me to do, ignore it?”

Timothy rolled his eyes, “Bruce isn't going to be happy about that. We are specifically told to avoid patrolling there.”

Damin didn't indulge Tim with a response, but knew he was correct. This was also the reason he was intentionally leaving out the part about conversing with Red Hood.

A few minutes later Damin had finished his report and Tim stood there, leaning on the chair with a confused expression on his face, like he was trying to mentally put a puzzle together, but the pieces didn't fit. “They just… disappeared?” He asked after a few more moments, re-reading the last paragraph.

“Yes. They asked me if I had my own way of escape, and when I confirmed I did, they vanished.” Damian responded, with a somewhat similar look in his eyes. His face remained neutral, as it usually was.

“Invisibility?” Tim suggested. Damian looked at him like he was stupid, which to Damian, he was.

“We would still be able to hear them or sense their heat signature, unless they had a way of masking that too. And they were holding a hyena.” Damian responded. Tim rolled his eyes again. Maybe if he kept doing that he'd find a brain back there.

“So, speedster?” Tim eventually said. “It would explain how they get around the city so quickly to do their deliveries.” He speculated before continuing, “and why we always lose them on patrol.”

Damian nodded along with Tim's theory. It did explain quite a bit, but something still felt off. “Yes, but when speedsters run they give off electrical energy, and you can see them streak by. They deliver at night, wouldn't we be able to see the light they'd give off as they ran?”

“Maybe it's a mix of both. Or they found a way to mask that. They do always have an electrical scooter with them that's covered in LEDs. It could be that we have seen them, but thought it was just their decked out scooter.” Tim said, getting excited as he theorized.

“That is a good cover.” Damian agreed. “And since we haven't been looking for someone with super speed, some things could have gone unnoticed.”

“I can have Babs start looking for electrical pulses similar to The Flash's.” Tim said, already pulling out his phone.

“And I will alert the others of the information we've gathered.” Damian nodded, turning back to the computer.

~~~

Dyzzy woke to the sound of shouting and banging far off in the distance. They felt a lot of pressure on their face and their body felt a miles away. They grunted a bit, trying to break themself out of the brain fog. They heard a whine next to their ear, although even that sounded muddled and faint.

There was more shouting that turned into banging footsteps and growling. Sound was beginning to become clearer and they were actually able to think somewhat. The floor. They were on the floor. They recognized the rough texture and musty smell of the old movie theater carpet. So, they were in their theater, good. Memories also began to clarify a bit, but they were pulled out of their haze by snarling and talking, that they now realized where, in fact, very close.

They attempted to lift their body, but it felt like someone had turned the gravity up 10x. Instead they just turned their head and managed to get their right arm under them. They were met with the sight of Red Hood, covered in soot marks, having a staring contest with Bruce the hyena. Not what they were expecting. “Brucie, stop.” They mumbled out, their mouth not quite catching up with their brain just yet.

Red Hood immediately looked over at them, and even though they couldn't see his face, Dyzzy knew the worried expression he was wearing. He must have been at the fire, judging by the condition of his suit, but he couldn’t have seen Dyzzy, they were inside the whole time. Robin must have told him. Snitch. Weird, considering, as far as Dyzzy knew, the Bats and Red Hood didn't get along.

Red Hood asked if they were okay, which they responded that they were and he didn't believe them. The usual. Dyzzy's stitches hadn't torn in the fall and their nose didn't break hitting the floor, so they were actually fine this time. Red Hood still checked their pulse and temperature anyway. Dyzzy assumed it had been long enough since the fire that they had cooled down, although their heart still felt a little fast. It was probably because they had sat up.

Dyzzy smiled a bit when Red Hood casually said he had kicked the door in. Of course he did. Now he was going to have to fix it and re reinforce it, like he did when he first found Dyzzy's hideout.

“Stop worrying, it's a bad look for a mob boss.” Dyzzy joked, their voice starting to sound less like a drowned rat.

“Shut up.” Red Hood responded. Dyzzy grinned a little more, getting enough strength to sass the crime lord that was actively fussing over them.

“Oh, did I offend the big scary Red Hood, honestly-” Dyzzy started, grinning fully now, their voice filled with sass when Red Hood suddenly shouted.

“No, shut up! I mean it. I'm not joking around with you right now.” He yelled, anger edging away the worry in his voice. Dyzzy quickly closed their mouth and looked into their lap, letting out a small, “Oh,” as they did. They started picking at their nails to keep their mind from freaking out and making them have a fucking panic attack. That was NOT what they needed right now.

Red Hood said something else, but Dyzzy was too in their head to fully hear him. They retrieved their emotional support opossum from the hood of their sweatshirt to help them chill out. They didn't look up from petting Drowsy, but realized they should probably respond to whatever Red Hood had said, as he apparently wasn't leaving anytime soon since he had sat down on the floor.

“Well, I'm not burnt or anything. My heart rate just got elevated and I passed out. I do it all the time.” Dyzzy said, hoping that it related to what Red Hood said. Dyzzy knew Red Hood knew about their POTS. They'd passed out on him one too many times to pretend it was just because they were tired.

“Yeah, I know. That's not what I'm here about.” Red Hood said lowly. He seemed to be getting angrier as his teeth gritted and his hand balled into a fist.

Dyzzy's panic only grew. Was he mad that they had been at Harley's place. They knew it pissed him off when they put themself in unnecessarily dangerous situations, but they were just pet sitting! They specifically weren't going on deliveries because of the stab wound!

“Are you here because that was Harley's place? Listen, she just asked me to pet sit. She and Ivy are on a date and they didn't want Brucie to be left alone and I-” Dyzzy stopped when they saw Red Hood raise a hand. They spoke too much. Fuck, they had rambled. What was the first rule of interrogations, Dyzzy? Always let them tell you what they think you did instead of blurting shit out like an idiot! Wait, was this an interrogation? It sure felt like it… but Red Hood wouldn't do that, right?

“Dyzzy, how did you get back here so quickly?”

Yes he would. Yes he would and he is. Of course he is! Dyzzy got too comfortable around him. He's a fucking crime lord. A crime lord that watched movies and ate popcorn and helped them mod their scooter. Their scooter! Fuck, they'd left that behind hadn't they? Maybe he didn't know? He had to know, or else why would he be asking them that. Wait, why was he asking them that? Did Robin also tell him that- No! No no no. They needed to calm down. He was just trying to freak them out. That's what cops do when they want you to spill. Dyzzy clenched their teeth, getting their mind right, before putting on their best ‘little shit’ face.

“I rode my scooter?” Dyzzy said, in their signature ‘ur an idiot’ attitude as they leaned back on their hands, trying to appear relaxed.

It didn't work. They already knew it wouldn't, but Dyzzy had to try. Red Hood raised an eyebrow the way he does when he knows they are lying about something. Dyzzy didn't crack though, and squinted back, as if to say ‘whatcha gonna do about it?’

It was then that Red Hood did something actually terrifying. He lowered his guard. He slouched in on himself in defeat as he broke his gaze away from Dyzzy's, as if he could no longer look them in the eye. He took a breath and let it out, preparing himself for something. Had someone died? Was it Robin? Fuck! Did Dyzzy cause the death of fucking Robin by choosing to teleport Harley Quinn's pet hyena out of a burning building instead of him?

Dyzzy's whole facade broke in a moment as panic overtook them once again. Why was Hood taking so damn long to speak? Just spit it out already!

“I know you're a meta.”

Dyzzy froze. The whole world did. Out of all the horrible things he could have said, that was the one they were specifically trying to keep out of their mind. Fuck. Their life was over. They'd made it how many years on their own? Two? Three? They'd finally made a home, made friends, were able to actully be fucking happy and now it wad all going to end.

They didn't even realize they were hyperventilating until Red Hood started yelling at them to breathe. Was he yelling? Why did everything sound so loud? The lights were buzzing. Why had they put in so many LEDs and string lights? Why was their heartbeat trying to escape through their skull?

A hand touched their shoulder, but they flinched away. Probably would have teleported accidently if they hadn't been so exhausted from before. The hand retracted a bit, but still hovered nearby, threatening to touch them again. Dyzzy didn't want to look at Red Hood. Didn't want to see whatever face of pity or disgust he wore. Why was he even still here? If he knew they were a meta then why had he even come to check on them? If he was going to kidnap them or something he wouldn't have told them he knew. Unless it was some fucking ploy. Was he playing with them? He had talked to Robin. Robin knew too. They were going to send fucking Batman to beat their ass and kick them out of their home. The only place they knew.

“Please leave.” Dyzzy managed to choke out. Their voice was already raspy and hoarse from the smoke inhalation, but it somehow seemed to get even worse as tears began pooling in the corners of their eyes. Dyzzy refused to let them fall. They weren't going to cry like a fucking child in front of Red Hood.

Dyzzy could hear him start to say something, moving to be in their line of sight, but Dyzzy just closed their eyes. “Leave.” Dyzzy said again, a bit more forcefully. They weren't sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was because they had nothing left to lose?

Red Hood tried to reach out again, but was once again blocked by a growling hyena. Good Brucie. Chase him away. Make everyone go away.

“Fine!” They heard Red Hood shout, making them flinch again. They heard him pause for a second before storming out of the room, and eventually the building itself. Dyzzy didn't move or open their eyes until they could hear the engine of his motorcycle fade away. Then they broke into sobs. Brucie was there to try and lick up their tears. Dyzzy hugged him tight as their tears continued to fall.

~~~

The alley was dark. The light from the street lamps faint and flickering, barely even crossing the threshold from the sidewalk. A doctor from a 24 hour emergency clinic stood nervously, fidgeting with some papers in her hands. She was staring at the entrance to the alley and jumped just slightly when a voice came from behind her instead.

“What have you got for us?” A man's voice asked from the dark, his voice deep and gravely. The doctor could barely see the large outline of the man in the dim light. “Oh! I hadn't heard you approach. Umm,”

“Get on with it.” The voice grumbled, clearly impatient.

The doctor swallowed before clearing her throat and speaking up, “A meta. Kid. A meta kid. Came through my clinic a few nights ago.” She stuttered at the beginning, but managed to regain what little composure she had left by the end as she handed over the paperwork. Lab results from a blood test she had run on the teen.

“Interesting.” The man said, his voice sounding both intrigued and excited. “Any further information you can give us?”

“Yes!” She responded quickly, “The age and description are included in the report,” she gestured to the papers, “but there is one other thing. Nightwing was the one who had brought them by. I would have gotten the information to you sooner, but I had to be sure I wasn't being watched by bats.”

“The Bats, eh?” The man half scoffed, half laughed. “Well, I've always been one for a challenge.”