Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

With exams approaching far too quickly for comfort, most of the classes at Gotham Prep had been replaced with revision sessions. Students with blurred, tired eyes, copied endlessly from their text books onto flash cards and highlighted entire paragraphs.

At the back of the history classroom, Duke was flicking through his notebook desperately

“I’m missing almost a whole semester of notes.” He groaned, resting his head on two of the many blank pages “I’m doomed.”

“I could help you with the bits you missed.” Tim offered

“Do not do that.” Steph cut in, raising her own head from her notebook “Never study with Tim.”

“My revision plans work!” Tim defended

“They’re insane!”

“How insane are we talking?” Duke mumbled from the notebook. Stephanie snatched Tims planner from in front of him and rifled through

“Arkham Levels. He’s allocated himself 20 minutes of sleep every four hours over three days here.”

“Because then I won’t get groggy!” Tim said, desperately trying to snatch back the planner. The last thing he needed was a picture of it being sent to the Bat Chat, and all of the school age heroes being benched until exams were over. Life would also be much easier if Bruce didn’t discover his plans for bribing the professors if, due to no fault of his own, he ended up short of the necessary credits to graduate. He absoloutly refused to waste another year in high school.

Steph tossed it over to Duke, who caught it neatly and let out a low whistle

“I can’t even read half of this, it’s all on top of each other.”

Tim snatched it back and shoved it in his bag

“It’s flexible. If you don’t plan to fail, then you haven’t planned at all.”

“I think I’ll just take the F.”

“All you need to do is work out what will be on the exam, and learn those bits!” Stephanie insisted, flashing her own colourful notes. Rather than actual information, they mostly contained previous test questions

“What we need is for some big nasty villain to attack the school during the exam, then everyone gets an automatic A.”

“No, they just reschedule the exam to take place after they’ve declared the building safe.” Tim said, eyes skimming over his notes again. Idealy if he could memorise all the information now, he could spend the evening with his case files

“So, we draw Scarecrow here. Fear Toxin would have to get them to delay exams by at least a week!”

“Gonna be hard to study if we’re all having nightmares though…”

“Do you think Dick would show up in the cowl and declare the school unsafe if I asked?”

“No way. I’m not sure who I would be more scared of facing if we tried that - Bruce or Alfred.”

All three of them shuddered, already imagining the lectures about endangering the families sacred secret, about neglecting their education.

“On the bright side, you could stay home and study with Damian.” Stephanie grinned at Duke “I think he’s still under lockdown, and I’m sure he’d love to help you .”

“Are you an idiot? I’ve known about the Battle of Gettysburg since I was two. I shot a real musket through my history teacher for practice.” Duke said, in a far too accurate immitation of Damien’s accent

“Stop you’ll give me nightmares!” Tim shuddered “It’s bad enough being around him at the manor.”

“See I was almost sympathetic until that last part. You can’t whine about your home life when you live in a mansion.” Steph smirked

“You basically live there as well at this point!”

“Not the point, I sleep in an apartment. You privileged private school kids just can’t relate…”

“We are literally attending the same private school right now!”

“Yeah, but your adopted dad pays my fees.”

Tim groaned but before he could retort, everyone was distracted by the loud crash of thunder outside. It had been drizzling all day, and no one was a stranger to a storm in gotham, but the flash of lighting that followed directly after signalled that the storm was directly on top of them. At the second crash of thunder, all of the lights went out.

“Not normal…” Tim muttered, and they all scrambled to grab their phones.

“I don’t have any bars?” Duke whispered, unable to hide the concern in his voice. Although to any onlooker all their phones were standard Wayne Tech, they were all connected to Oracles Network. And it’s backup network. If their phones were down, something was seriously wrong.

“There’s us three, and Cass is over in gym right now, I’m sure that we can handle…” Steph whispered, but she was clicking resend on her message to the batchat over and over. Each time it bounced back red and undeliverable.

“Not as civilians. We need to work out whats going on, then help evacuate everyone until enforcements arrive.” Tim murmered.

“What a great day for Signal to prioritise his education…” Duke said, cancelling the Call Failed screen and trying his uncles number again

Tim ignored him, walking across the classroom to peek out into the corridor. He wasn’t the only one, and he heard a few screams down the hallway as there was another crash, and the hallway lit up for a second. In that brief moment, he saw something large and metallic making it’s way towards them.

“Lock your classroom door now, get everyone to hide!” Tim said as loudly as he dared, and to his relief he heard multiple doors slam and lock. He turned back to see Duke and Steph hovering awkwardly beside him. As the lightning flashed again, he risked another glance at the machine. For that horrifying moment it felt as though it’s bright red eye was locked on him.

“It’s some sort of robot. It’s here for something specific, it isn’t mindlessly searching or attacking.”

“Well that’s just great…”

“It’s seen me already, I’m going to risk the corridor. See whether it attacks or pursues. Lock the door behind me and leave through the windows. Duke, you go and find Cass then try and find an evacuation point for the students. Steph, you go up to the second floor to see if theres anymore up there. The priority right now is to stop everyone from panicking.”

Before they could respond, Tim slipped out into the hallway and pulled the door closed behind him. He heard the click of the lock. The murmer of voices and shuffling of furniture as Duke and Steph organised everyone. They’d be alright.

The red eye stopped approaching briefly, seeming to take in the boy in front of it. Tim felt exposed, no gadgets or mask to hide behind. He took a tentative step away from the robot, and it matched him, maintaining the distance between them. He took two more slow steps, and the robot copied.

“What do you want…?” Tim whispered, and almost in answer, the robot began to charge. Tim was ready for this, poised on his toes he sprinted down the corridor. His lace up leather school shoes squeaked on polished floor. He couldn’t pick up his usual speed in them, so heavy in comparison to his suits boots. When he dared a glance back, the robot was gaining far too close for comfort. He couldn’t attack it here though, not with the scared faces of students pearing through the doors glass panes or peeking out of the doorways. He just had to lead it somewhere less exposed.

He reached the end of the corridor and ended up in the main entrance. He skidded to a halt and swore when he saw another robot straight ahead of him down the corridor ahead, and another posed at the top of the grand staircase. He pivoted through the front doors, out into the now hammering rain outside. He almost lost his footing when he noticed that the furious storm clouds seemed to be spread almost perfectly across the school grounds, a harsh contrast to the normal cozy grey clouds over the rest of the city. There was no time to wonder about this though, as the robots clashed trying to follow him out of the doorway. Far more quickly than he’d like, they backed off to filter through one at a time.

Going outside was a mistake. He realised this instantly. Not only was he more visible from all the classrooms at the front of the school, but the wet gravel slowed him down and the grass wouldn’t be any better. He decided to follow the school drive down to the gates, hopefully if he could get off the grounds then his phone would work, and he could find out who was on the way. Even if it was two in the afternoon, someone had to be on their way, right?

“Not so fast Timothy Wayne!” A voice called above the rain. It was the name more than anything that made him falter. He wasn’t used to villains addressing him by his real identity. It felt like just as much as an attack as a punch, a horrible feeling of being known by something that wished you harm. A horribly familar short bald man grinned at him, flanked by two more horrible robots. The amount of enemies was racking up for too quickly for comfort.

The fact that Hugo Strange hadn’t brought Monster Men into a highschool during classes was a good sign. He wasn’t interested in a massacre. But that left the horrible open question about what he could want with a building full of teenagers.

“What is this?” Tim yelled back, continuing to edge away. The robots matched him, never letting him expand the distance. They were here to herd them, not to attack. He needed to stall.

“I’m here to help you, to help all of the Robins escape from The Batmans shadow!” Strange said, approaching. His horrible robots began to spread out, trying to surround him. Tim could only pray that his voice wasn’t carrying, that none of the students could hear the monologue he was sure was about to begin. How to stall without letting Strange talk?

“You’re insane!” Was all he could think of to yell back

“Lets not waste time lying to each other Timothy.” Strange said, as he approached Tim tried to back up but they were all coming closer now. Closing in.

He’d worked out Dick’s identity by watching him fight, and by proxy Bruce’s. He couldn’t risk a fight here with so many witnesses. He couldn’t risk being the one to expose them all. There was a chance that Strange was merely trying to confirm a theory, make them panic and make a mistake. He scanned frantically, hoping to see Bruce’s silouette on the roof. Dick’s agile form. Even Jason’s red helmet or Damiens katakana would be welcome. Strange was getting closer and he was frozen, fighting against his every reflex that told him to run, to fight, to hide. But he wasn’t Red Robin right now.

“You don’t need to be frightened Timothy. I don’t want to hurt any of you. You’re all much too impressive specimens for me to waste merely killing. Once the mouse is caught by the cat, it only prolongs its suffering by trying to squirm away.”

Cass and Duke, still in their school uniforms, appeared at the doorway. They both immediately tensed, all of their training preparing for them to jump into the fight and protect their friend, their team mate. Tim met Cass’s eyes as he raised his hands slowly.

‘Stay over there.’ He willed them ‘We don’t all have to go down.’

He saw her reluctantly hold back, hand out to stop Duke from approaching. If Strange had noticed them, he didn’t seem interested. His grin was widening. His horrid, manic eyes were fixed only upon Tim. He might be targetting the most well known Wayne kids first, his official wards that accompanied him to all the galas and events that so often covered the pages of the Gotham Gazette. If he was after Robins, that might mean that everyone else was safe.

“If I come quietly, no one gets hurt?” Tim asked, his heart pounding in his chest. This wasn’t the first time, and it wouldn’t be the last, that someone targetted Tim Drake. Timothy Wayne. He had the trackers in his phone, shoes and wallet. It wouldn’t take long for them to find him, and the worst thing he’d have to endure would be Jason’s gloating about saving the damsel in distress

“Of course.” Strange grinned “I’ve always appreciated how practical you are. I’m sure it’s part of why Bruce chose you.”

Tim ignored the comment, taking a hesitant step towards the insane man, who surely didn’t mean any of them well. He tried to keep his face blank, to smother every reflex that he’d trained and toned that were screaming at him to run. To fight. He couldn’t stop himself from flinching away from the bright disk that Strange tossed at him. It stuck to his blazer, and made short work of making it’s way through the fabric, through his sweater and his shirt. He let out a gasp as it’s teeth embedded themselves in his skin. Then a yell of pain as his entire body was shredded into pieces.

Everything was white.

Until it was red.

Then black.

Chapter Text

He curled in on himself, pulling every shred of his being back together. Reaching out for the fragments and willing them back. Each burning, electric piece was a blissful ache compared to the empty agony. He wanted it to be over. He wanted to die.

It lasted for an eternity and it lasted for a moment.

He heard his scream. He had a voice and nothing had ever been such a relief.

His whole body ached like he’d been thrown out of a window. Each gasping breath around his sobs felt like it was shredding his throat, his chest.

“Bruce…please…” He managed to plead. He wasn’t sure he was asking for help or just for death. For it to stop. Nothing had ever hurt like this.

He had to calm down. There wasn’t time for him to panic.

He tried to breathe. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight. In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

He remained curled up, needing to feel his warm, solid, intact body.

He took a deep breath and managed to open his eyes.

There was no sign of Hugo Strange which was a relief. The tunnel was narrow concrete, stretching into darkness and lit with spread out yellow lights. He could hear the screeching echoes of trains.

Hesitantly, he began to stretch out, taking in every wonderful intact part of his body. His fingers hovered over the rip in his blazer and he flinched away from the cool metal that lay beneath. Gritting his teeth, he shrugged off the blazer, unbuttoned his cuff and rolled up his sleeves. He swallowed back the vomit that rose in his throat as he took in the awful alien item in his flesh.

It was around the size of his palm and seemed to be made of steel, raised almost half an inch from his actual skin. The skin surrounding it was raw and scabbed over like a cauterised wound. When he gave it a small, cautionary tug, it seemed to bite deep into his arm, resisting any attempt at removal. It was definitely buried deep, even if he had a knife on him it wouldn’t be wise to try and dig it out here, knowing Strange it contained some sort of horrible chemical that would turn him into a monster if he tried to remove it incorrectly. It was hard to be rational though, staring at the large disk that had forced itself to be part of him and he had no idea what it was or why it was there.

Ideally he’d want to look at it back at the cave, but if it contained any form of tracker that wouldn’t be safe. He should look it over with Babs at the library before he did anything rash. He should…

He could’t look at it anymore. He couldn’t risk sitting here and panicking. Whatever Strange had done, whatever awful teleportation device he’d used, it seemed to have malfunctioned and dropped him somewhere random. He didn’t have any indication of how close he was to the intented destination and he couldn’t waste time giving Strange a chance to catch up.

Rolling down his sleeves, his gave both ends of the tunnel a cautionary glance and after deciding they looked about the same he made his way to the left. The tunnel was probably intended for some form of maintence which was a relief, there should be periodic exits. His luck was finally changing when he found a ladder and after what felt like the longest climb of his life, the manhole cover shifted to the side and he was out in the sunlight.

If anyone was concerned about the sight of a boy climbing out the ground, they didn’t say anything.

“We’re not in Kansas anymore…” Tim muttered under his breath as he took in the clear blue skies, the rushing yellow cabs and the shining front of the Chrysler Building towering above him.

New York. Less than ideal. But thankfully he’d visited New York many times, both as Tim Drake and Robin so it was not wholly unfamilar territory. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, ready to text everyone that not only did he seem to be alright, but he was located by a well known landmark and Could They Please Come And Get Him ASAP.

“Fucking shit fuck…” He muttered, refreshing the completely blank messaging app. The secure Batchat app was completely gone, his contact list was wiped and his photo album was empty. The top of the phone showed an unhelpful No Signal icon.

His identity had been compromised so of course it made sense to wipe his phone, but did Babs have to do such a thorough job so soon? Or had Bruce demanded it, fearing that Strange would be able to access confirmation to his theories? But it wouldn’t have been suspicious for him to have Alfred’s number at the very least!

Step 1: Find a phone

Step 2: Find transport home.

Step 1 should be easy, he was in Manhatten. He followed 42nd until he reached the Hyatt Grand Central and after a quick double check of his reflection to ensure that he didn't look half as bad as he felt, strolled up to the lobby desk. He smiled shyly at the man behind

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you but do you have a phone I could borrow? I got separated from my family and need to call my dad." He asked. He felt the mans eyes scan over him, taking in his uniform and watch before passing a clunky landline across the counter

"Of course sir" He said, plastering on his wide customer service smile

Tim smiled back, and began typing in the manors number. At first he thought he might of fumbled the area code, but even on his second attempt he received an automatic This Number Is Not in Service message. He could feel the mans eyes on him, so he tried to stay calm as he tried Wayne Enterprises.

This Number Is Not In Service.

He couldn't keep standing here dialling every one he knew, he'd look like a maniac. In final desperation he tried Babs, begging her to respond.

This Number is Not In Service.

"I guess the signals bad, I'll just have to get back to our hotel and wait for them there." Tim said casually, passing the phone back with an apologetic smile. He pulled a $20 bill out of his wallet and handed that over as well "Thanks a lot for your help"

His chest was tightening as he left the hotel, and began to follow the street, another horrid thought occurred to him. If no ones phones were accessible then that might not be the only thing that he was cut off from. He crossed the street and headed over the the ATM, willing for one thing to go right today. Just one, singular thing.

Every single one of his cards was spat right back out as invalid.

"Fucking shit..." He spat, shoving the wallet back in his pocket. He'd just keep walking, create distance and think.

He'd just tipped a guy $20 for a fucking phone call. What the fuck was he doing?!? Could he go and ask for the tip back?!?

In Gotham if you carried a lot of cash, folks were more likely to take your wallet and leave you be. He now had around $280 to his name. That was not going to get him very far in New York, and would barely cover a cab out of the city. If the Strange attack had already made the news (which it almost definitely had...) then he'd be looking at extra fee just for being the target of a recent villain attack. With publicity like that, there was only so far 'My father will pay you back later' would go. When people's lives are on the line, they like to be paid in advance.

Think. Think. THINK.

Someone grabbed the back of his blazer and pulled. Instinct took over as Tim slipped his jacket and spun, fist aimed for the strangers throat. He made contact with someones palm and it was like punching a wall. Before he could pull his fist back for a second attempt, they'd tightened their grip, holding it firmly still.

"Hey hey man, woah!" The kid said, eyes wide with shock "You were about to step out in traffic! You can't do that here!"

The 'kid' was probably close to his own age, concerned brown eyes and wavy curls. His baggy jeans and hoodie were clearly trying to hide an athletes physique. Even a trained athlete shouldn't be able to just stop his punch like that, the strength and reflexes weren't normal. He was still mulling this over when the kid pulled him away from the traffic and to the edge of the sidewalk closest to the buildings.

"Hey you're okay, you're okay" The kid said, releasing Tims fist and returning his blazer "Do you know when and where you are?"

"I'm not sure I do anymore" Tim said, cracking a weak smile "I'm kind of..." He gestured vaguely. Lost. Abandoned. Abducted. All the above.

"That's okay, you're okay. It's Thursday the 11th of April, 2024. We're in Manhatten, New York, United States of America. Earth. We've been back for about...Five, six, months now? It's okay."

Tim blinked, trying to process what the boy was saying

"We're...back...?"

Chapter Text

“I always find sugar helps afterwards.” Peter said as he placed one of the mugs of hot chocolate on the table in front of Tim. Part of him was feeling guilty, going along with this kids misconception and accepting his help, but he had to get his bearings. Right now they were sat in some overly sleek coffee shop called Starkbucks which felt like a lawsuit waiting to happen.

“I’m sorry to bother you with this.”

“No no it’s fine! I think we’ve all had flashbacks at some point. When people are just like ‘all you guys did was come back when everything was over, you should be over it by now!’ I get so mad, like we didn’t just lose five years and everythings totally weird now?”

Tim tried to control his face, but he must of failed to fully conceal how little he was following

“Sorry, this is probably like, the last thing you want to talk about right now.” Peter apologised, thankfully misreading his expression

“No, it’s fine, thank you. Seriously, I haven’t had a chance to talk about it…much with anyone…”

Because I have no idea what It is and you’re currently my only lead.

“Did no one else in your family blip?”

“Oh…No…I’m the only one.”

“Yikes that rough!” Peter said “My aunt and most of my friends blipped as well so we’ve kind of been able to get the hang of it all together. Has your family been okay with it all?”

Thing were definitely Not Okay. His identity, and potentially everyone elses, had been compromised. He’d been cut off financially and all communication had been severed. Were they all prowling the streets of Gotham looking for him, or assembling a memorial case in the cave? Were any of them left to look for him, or had Strange finished them all off?

He’d been quiet too long.

“I think we’re still working it out.” He said simply, taking a sip of his drink. The hot chocolate was just powder in milk and was too sweet. It tasted like returning to Dick’s apartment after patrol.

“My aunt works at this shelter, Feast. Anyway they have like, groups for people who’ve blipped? I don’t know how long you’re in the city for but maybe you could check it out?” Peter said, rummaging in his backpack for a crumpled flyer that he passed over.

“Oh, thanks” Tim said, the teens on the front were playing basketball with a hero he didn’t recognise “So is that like…A local vigilante?”

“Spider-Man? Kind of, I guess?” Peter said, glancing away as he ran his hand through his hair “He swings by sometimes…Friendly neighbourhood hero…Stuff. Promoting the shelter and whatever. My aunt keeps putting pictures of him everywhere, says it encourages people who need help and keeps bad guys away…”

“Oh, that’s cool”

“Yeah, totally. He’s a great guy.”

Tim skimmed over the flyer, his chest tightening with anxiety.

50% of the worlds population had been ‘blipped’ out of existance 5 years ago.

He would know if that had happened. That was a full Justice League level problem. Except apparently it hadn’t been because some other guys he’d never heard of, The Avengers, fixed it with time travel.

There was a picture of some of them at the shelter. Some guy in a robot suit. A dude dressed like the American flag with wings. A huge green man.

He folded it up and pocketed it, his heart pounding

“That’s…really useful, thanks.” He managed to say, forcing himself to take a drink just for something to do other than talk.

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Do you like, have someone you can call?” Peter asked. Shit, he must look awful.

“It’s okay, I’m meeting my…field trip…By the library in a bit. I should probably head over there. Thanks a lot for your help. How much do I owe you?”

“Oh no you don’t owe me anything! Are you sure you don’t want me to walk with you?”

Tim was already standing, smoothing down his blazer and trying his best to seem calm.

“Oh no, it’s okay, I know where I’m going.”

Peter did not look convinced. His eyes for the briefest moment flicked to the rip in Tim’s sleeve, and he hastily crossed his arms to try and cover it.

“Well…If you ever go by Feast then ask for May, that’s my aunt, and tell her Peter sent you. It was nice meeting you.”

He awkwardly held out his hand, and reluctantly Tim shook it, thankful that the shredded remains of his uniform seemed to mostly cover the Thing in his arm. He retracted his hand as quickly as was polite, crossing them tightly again.

He practically bolted from Starkbucks.

Step 1: Acquire clothing that fully covered his arm to avoid attacting attention

He ended up wasting around $50 in a gift shop on a ‘I love New York’ sweatshirt with matching bag to shove his uniform in. If Steph saw him, she’d be desperate for a photo. He wouldn’t even care at this point, he’d let Alfred frame in in the hallway if it meant he could go home right now. Instead, he’s powerwalking down 5th Avenue, his heart pounding in his chest.

Step 2: Head to the library to find out where the hell he was.

Thursday. Manhatten. Earth.

He signed up for a Visitors Library Card under the name Alvin Draper. The woman who set him up thankfully seemed to accept ‘I blipped’ as a reasonable explanation to why he didn’t have any ID. He logged into the computer and began searching.

Tim Drake and Time Wayne didn’t bring up any results.

Dr Hugo Strange brought up a neurosurgeon called Stephen.

There was nothing on Bruce Wayne or Batman. Every name he searched just brought up unrelated, random results.

He felt like he was searching for hours, desperate to find Gotham. Metropolis. Star City. Smallville. He couldn’t find a single record showing that any of them, or their residents, had ever existed.

The Avengers didn’t seem well organised Post-Blip. Half of them were dead, the other half seemed to be scattered across the country and various other planets. They were also all old, was there a law here that you needed to be over 30 to be a hero?

Tim groaned, pulling at fistfuls of his hair. He needed to think. He needed a plan. He forced himself to sit up the notes app on his phone.

Step 1: Establish a base of operations.

Step 2: Find a way to earn money to meet basic needs while in the city.
- May require fake ID

Step 3: Investigate whatever was in his arm, and if it could be used to return home.
- Look for any signs of Strange, or suspicous activity
- Find/make gadgets for defence in case Strange or other villains appear

The benefit of this Blip situation was it seemed that there were lots of schemes in place to help people who had been displaced, and there were even places that would help with obtaining ID if your origional documents had been lost.

It was probably safest to avoid Feast for the time being, as it seemed to be a magnet for heroes. Bruce never appreciated when other heroes wandered into Gotham with their problems, and he couldn’t imagine the Avengers being thrilled either. Of course, he hadn’t chosen to come to their Earth mere months after they saved it, potentially bringing along a multi-dimmensional problem, but he didn’t have anything to tell them at this point anyway. If he was going to introduce himself to a new hero team, he wanted to do it as a hero. Not some lost kid.

For the time being, there was a shelter for young people in Brooklyn. Until he’d gotten a lay of the land, that should hopefully offer food and a bed. Then he could focus on finding somewhere more private to stay and hopefully assemble some of his usual weapons. Batarangs were probably in short supply here, but he should be able to source a slingshot or staff.

A tabloid paper called The Daily Bugle was offering good money for high quality pictures of Spider-Man. He noted down the address and details. Spider-Man seemed to mostly frequent Queens and help with petty, local crime. It also looked like he regularly posed for pictures with people he saved and local businesses, so probably wouldn’t be too oppossed to one more photographer on his tail. His phone camera would probably suffice for the moment, until he collected the first check. His early pictures of Batman and Robin had been taken on far less sophistacted tech, and that was before he learned how to edit.

Tim releaxed his shoulders for the first time in hours. He had, for the time being, a destination and a plan.

Peter threw down his backpack in the lab and slumped down at the desk. He found himself absently staring at his right arm, the one that he’d touched Tim with. The one that had felt weird. Everything about Tim had felt weird in a hard to pin down way. It was almost like he was covered in static, a fuzzy charge that shocked when you got too close. The air around him felt hot and feverish, but his skin had been cold. Just passing him had triggered his spider-sense for something being wrong.

His arm shot out, catching the protein bar before it hit the floor. He turned to see Tony, Mr Stark, walking in.

“Hey, your aim is getting better” Peter said, forcing a smile. Tony flexed his new, artificial arms fingers. The arm he’d made to replace the one that had been destroyed by the infinity gauntlet.

“The balance still feels off.” Tony said, sitting himself down across from Peter. He nodded to the protein bar “Eat. I notice you didn’t bring me back a coffee.”

“You’re not supposed to have caffine…” Peter started and Tony waved him off

“No I get it. I’m not young and cute anymore like your new friend.”

Peter stalled for a moment, taking in Tony's meaning, and then blushed furiously.

“That wasn’t a date! He needed help! You were watching?”

Tony shrugged "You text saying you'll be late, and then happen to bring your not-date to one of my coffee shops. You can't blame me for wanting to make sure he's good for you."

Peter groaned, slamming his head down on his arms. Of course, if Tony had been watching he'd have seen that nothing had happened. But he'd also have seen Peter making a total mess of things.

"I don't even know what I did. I gave him a flyer and he bolted. As soon as he saw Spider-Man his heart rate shot up like crazy."

"Maybe he has arachnophobia."

Peter gave a weak, sarcastic smile, but his eyes drifted back to his hand. It had mostly been May pushing him to try and make a difference as Peter Parker, to find ways that he could do good just as a normal person. It was a nice idea, a way to try and help him remember that just because Spider-Man had helped to save the world, didn't mean that he had to stop being a part of it, helping the little guy. But sometimes the problems Spider-Man helped with, sticking a mugger up on a wall or finding a stolen bike, felt so much easier. Now the big problem was everyone wandering around traumatised and trying to get their lives back together, and there wasn't an ugly alien to punch in the face to make it go away.

He wished he'd at least thought to follow him to the library and make sure he reunited with his teachers okay.

"So what are you working on today?" Tony asked

Peter pulled out his current project from the drawer, grateful for the topic change. Tony's lab in Stark Tower was so high above the rest of the city, it allowed him to focus just on his current project, and forget about everything else

"Mimicry tracker. I'm making progress with the AI so it can recognise and copy colours, but it's still struggling with more complex patterns and textures."

He brought up the controls on his phone. The little robot on the desk twitched its legs, and turned from red to chrome, but it lacked the sheen of the table.

"Eventually I'd like for it to be able to hide itself as well, like climbing into pockets and under collars."

"Eat your snack, I'll have a look." Tony said, taking the phone, and turning the little robot back to red. Peter watched closely as he wolfed down the protein bar, asking questions and weighing in with ideas, glad that at least in the lab everything felt normal.

Chapter Text

Despite what most people preferred to believe, first impressions mattered. They were formed quickly, and once someone created an idea of you in their mind, it would influence how they viewed all of your actions.

If you turned up to a homeless shelter in a clearly brand new tourist hoodie, and the only other thing you owned was a uniform for a school that didn’t exist, it raised questions. Questions that Tim did not have comfortable easy answers to. Which meant that before he turned up to beg for a bed, he had to brave Goodwill.

He couldn’t help being revolted by the idea of wearing strangers unwashed clothes. Alfred washed almost all of their clothes as soon as they entered the manor, even when they were fresh from the store. Peering at the worn, pilling t-shirts, Tim was disgusted. But he’d endured worse than this. He just needed a few basics, to help him create a new and believeable identity. He ended up grabbing two long
sleeved t-shirts, a flannel shirt, jeans and sneakers. He also ended up grabbing some black running leggings. If he was going to try and follow Spider-Man around, he needed something easy to move in. He was even able to grab a domino mask amongst some costume accessories.

Hopefully the shelter could help with the other essentials like underwear. Things were not yet so dire that he would resort to wearing second hand boxers.

His money was disapearing alarmingly fast. As he got changed in the bathroom, he looked examined his school shoes. Bruce never liked his kids to wear anything too obviously designer in their daily life. Not only did it attract attention from people looking to make a quick buck, but it just set a bad impression. The Wayne’s were suppossed to care about Gotham and splashing out money unneccesserily for a fancy logo didn’t do that. Bruce was however, still a very wealthy man, and as such he did still tend to spend more than necessary on even simple items. The uniform itself was damaged and needed to be discarded, but the shoes had cost over $800 new, and thanks to him basically only wearing them from the car to school, they were still perfectly decent.

“Kid, I’ll give you fifty bucks for them if you leave.” The man in the second hand shop sighed.

“Sir, these are J.M.Weston…” Tim tried again, keeping his voice smooth and confident, his boardroom smile plastered to his face.

“Used, no packaging, no proof of purchase. For all I know, you stole them from some poor guys feet. If you’re really desperate, we could negotiate for the watch. But $50 is my final offer for the shoes.”

Tim tugged his sleeve down over his watch, and begrudgingly accepted the cash. He could already imagine the look on Alfred’s face when he told him he needed new shoes because he sold his for fifty bucks, cash in hand. If he ever had the chance to tell him.

He wanted to go home. He wanted to eat a snack plate with his siblings in the kitchen. He wanted to slouch upstairs for a pre-patrol nap. He wanted to walk the dogs around the grounds with Damian. He wanted to play video games with Cass, Steph and Duke. To spar with Dick and Jason. Talk with Babs on comms.

Instead, he was opening the door for Bright Horizons, Brooklyn.

He kept the name Alvin Draper. He was 18 years old. He’d blipped. His family hadn’t, and they hadn’t been able to make it work. It seemed to be a common enough story.

Apparently it could take weeks for a photo ID to be sorted, and it was basically impossible for them to organise any sort of work or housing until it had been processed. He was hoping by the time Alvin Draper’s ID had been sorted, Tim Drake would be long gone from this godforsaken city.

He’d refused a medical and a shower. It might be worth getting some bandages or something to cover his arm if he was going to be living in close proximity to so many people. It would also give him an excuse to wrap his arm in plastic before getting it wet, he wasn’t sure if whatever Strange had put in him was waterproof and he wasn’t sure he wanted to test it. They’d checked his bag and laid out some ground rules such as no outside food, no vaping or smoking and no weapons.

Once he managed to grab some weapons, they would need to be stashed somewhere else. Or he just needed to find a cozy condemmed building to set up his base in.

He also encountered another problem when he asked if they had any phone chargers.

“Is this a burner phone?” The worker at the reception had asked, flipping it over in her hand

“No, it’s not.” Tim grimaced, resisting the urge to snatch it back. Of course with no Bruce Wayne there was no Waynetech. No Waynetech, no chargers for Waynetech phones. Stupid.

“It looks kind of like an old ipod charger…” The other worker said, peering over

“It’s wide enough, but too tall. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a charger that would fit this.”

“It’s alright, I’ll work something out.” Tim said, reaching for it. He had maybe four days of battery left on the phone, in an ideal world he’d be home before it was totally depleted. Even if no one who would want to call him seemed to exist in this world, and the phone itself was mostly useless for the time being, the idea of its battery dying was an unpleasant one. It meant that he would truly be without a way for his back home to reach him. His eyes glanced over the womens cell phones on the desk, thin sleek things that didn’t seem to have any buttons.

“We won’t be able to help you with getting a new phone, and we really recomend you have one to take photos of any documents and to set up meetings with your case worker…” The lady in reception had pressed

“Yeah I know. I’ll work it out.” Tim snapped. His list of things he had to ‘work out’ kept growing. He normally liked finding the answers to problems, but the amount of problems just kept growing and he was exhausted.

The bed he was offered was in the centre of the dorm. He hated sharing a room with so many strangers, of not being near the wall or having an easy exit. The other boys eyed him up and he did the same. Gotham’s homeless shelters were often filled with wanna be goons, ready to pledge their alleigance to whatever Big Bad was currently taking over that area of the city. He didn’t know enough about the crime scene in New York to know if he could expect the same here, but you didn’t spend a significant amount of time in the Wayne Manor without learning to always be on your guard. You never knew when some new angry child was going to show up in the cave an attempt to kill you.

He traced his hand absently over the Thing in his warm through his sleeve, feeling the revolting ridge of it. It hurt less when he prodded at it now, which for some reason felt worse. Almost as if his body was becoming used to its invasion. He forced himself to stop touching it, and lay back in the bed. Keeping an eye and and ear out for anyones movements as he mulled over what he knew.

He’d been here for hours now and he still had no clues as to why. Something about escaping from Batmans shadow. Being an Impressive Specimen.

Strange was insecure about his own genetics which left him small. He had a history of messing around with other peoples, creating the awful monster men that had rampaged the city. Strange did have a history of financial problems, there was a small chance he was targetting the Wayne kids hoping for a large ransom payout. Any association with the Bats would increase the threat level drastically, meaning a faster payout. He was obsessed with Batman and physcoanalysing him and had discovered Bruce’s identity in the past, but those situations had all been dealt with, hadn’t they? When Strange was locked up, he himself was doubting his theories?

There was a chance that Strange was now targetting Bruce’s wards in order to test his theory about him being Batman. It wasn’t a well-kept secret how he had fallen apart after Jason’s death. If you took out Bruce’s wards one by one, and mysteriously there were less vigilantes out on the streets and Batman became a wreck, then that would help to confirm his belief and leave Gotham incredibly vulnerble. The Bats would also be distracted with trying to find their missing comrades, which would allow more sinister going ons to remain unnoticed.

But that wasn’t the whole plan. Why target Tim first, and at school where he was with three other Bats? He could assume that Strange didn’t know Orphan, Spoiler and Signals identities, otherwise he would have tried to take him on somewhere solo. Unless he knew that they’d prioritise the whole families identities and safety over one person? Or he knew that Tim would. Jason or Damian would fight back whether they were in costume or not. Cass and Steph wouldn’t go quietly either, the only reason Cass hadn’t was that she had trusted him enough to hesitate. Duke and Dick would probably go along with it, but with Duke’s meta powers and Dick being the best of them, they’d be trickier captives.

So Strange had targetted Tim first, expecting the least trouble and resistance. Tim’s disapperance was also probably the least like to trigger Batman’s full wrath. He wasn’t the first, the prodigal or the biological son. It was safest to assume, at least for the time being, that the plan had been made with at least some understanding of their identities and dynamics.

The teleportation tech was where he was truly stumped though. Something had clearly gone wrong for him to end up alone in New York, a city with a population of over 8 million people. And in the wrong universe. Travelling between the various Earth’s wasn’t completely unheard of, Bruce had even done it, but he’d never heard of an Earth that didn’t have a Batman in at least some form. There didn’t even seem to be a version of Strange here, so what was the point? If he just wanted Tim out the way, then there were easier and less painful ways to dispose of him. There had to be some reason that it was important that he was here. The only thing he could think to look into was the weird storm that took place over the school during his altercation with Strange, he’d need to look into whether they had been any similar unusual weather in New York around the same time he’d been transported here.

The storm and the tech were the biggest questions, and the hardest to answer. Not only the why, but the how. Strange’s skillset seemed mostly based in genetic manipulation, but whatever he’d used was something else. Probably not magic, but did Strange have an ally in this whole mess? It had to be someone very skilled to have been able to disconnect them from Oracle. Potentially Calculator? He’d come the closest to ever besting Oracle and had a history of coordinating with other villains.

He didn’t even want to consider the possibility, but it made too much sense to simply discard. Calculator had helped organise the murder of Jack Drake, he knew his identity as Robin. He’d made him an orphan. Perhaps he had taken away his family for the second time?

He rolled over, clutching his backpack to his chest like an uncomfortable teddy bear, biting down on his hand so he wouldn’t cry out loud. His family weren’t dead. They were just far away, and he could find a way back. He needed to find a way back and when he did, stop whoever was trying to seperate them.

—

Tim felt rough in the morning. The coffee they served at the shelter was terrible, but it was hot and it was coffee which was all that really counted. It had given him the energy he needed to make it back to the library.

New York had been experiancing its own weird weather recently. Massive powercuts in Manhatten near Oscorp Industries which had forced the owner to issue lots of public apologies. Norman Oscorp also suddenly seemed to have a greater interest in the local community, organising the cleaning up of litter and graffiti from the subway tunnels and showing up personally to soup kitchens and homeless shelters. His overly white veneered smile as he shook hands with New Yorks most vulnerble was repulsive. His son, Harry, could often be captured sulking in the background of these big publicity stunts. Tim had been to enough of these things to know how boring they could be, how long you’d actually spend posing for photographs and giving the right scripted comment instead of actually helping people, but he’d be mortified if every picture of him had him scowling in the background with his hands in the pockets of his suit. Harry Osborn was probably just that though, the bored son of a wealthy man who had everything. He didn’t have lives relying upon how well he played the part. Oscorps current interest in public opinion might have something to do with the upcoming Stark Expo, where all the great inventors of the world were brought together to create the technology of the future. With all the articles showing Tony Starks new focus on prosthetic limbs and the cute photos of him posing with kids in hospitals trying out their new arms, it was understandable why Oscorp was worried. The expos theme this year seemed along the same lines of accessibility and improving peoples quality of life, but there was a chance that someone there would be involved in interdimensional travel. Considering Stark seemed to be The Big Tech Guy in this world, who’d helped the Avengers with their time travel plan before, he wouldn’t put it past him to have taken it one step further to exploring over universes.

There had been a lot of storms over small areas of the city as well, again mostly over the Manhatten area. Tim printed off a map of the city and traced down the areas they covered, noting the dates and durations. They seemed to be getting smaller and increasing in frequency, as though someone was trying to pin down a location. Until yesterdays, which had covered almost the entire midtown area for almost an hour before stopping abrubtly and leaving behind clear blue skies. The Crysler building seemed to be near the edge of lots of these storms, a frequent overlap point. Local theories ranged from global warming to the return of Thor the Thunder God.

He turned his attention to Spider-man. The Bugle turned out to be his best source because amongst the crazy theories about the heroes origins and powers, they didn’t hold back on the details when it came to his take downs. Dates, addresses, witness reports. There was a twitter account where you could bring crimes to his attention (Though a bot was set up to remind you to contact local law enforcement first). He didn’t seem to keep to a specific schedule and area like the Bats did, probably because there seemed to be a lot less vigilantes here than back in Gotham. Back to the age old argument of the chicken and the egg, did Gotham have so many costumed villains because it had so many costumed hereos, or the other way around?

Spider-Man had taken down a few of his own costumed villains though, like the Vulture who he had stopped from stealing a bunch of dangerous tech. He’d been seen brawling a few times with some maniac on a glider called Green Goblin. And of course there was the ever famous Thanos. But he seemed most invested in the small scale crimes of Queens.

Which meant that’s where he needed to go.

Even in an unfamilar city, years as a Robin meant that if there was a crime happening, he could find it. He blended into the background. He visited the site of a hit and run that Spider-Man had intervened in last night, impressed by the foot and hand prints that had been left on some of the veicles, along with doodles on sticky notes apologising for the damage and directing them to ‘Mr Tony Stark’ to sort out their insurance claims. Tony Stark seemed a bit like Bruce Wayne, brilliant inventor and philanthropist. Except Bruce’s playboy image was there to throw the scene off Batman, and he’d seen a video of Mr Tony Stark crashing a weaponised suit through the wall at his own party. He knew which man he’d rather have been trained by. If this was who Spider-Man was associated with, then it made sense why his fighting seemed so wild, based purely off instinct and his reactions rather than strategy. Meta’s had more freedom to be careless though.

He had his phone in his hand, ready, when he heard a cheer from around the corner, turning to see Spider-man executing an effortless sommersault in the air.

He’d seen a few video clips, but to see Spider-Man move in person was something else. He almost made Dick look clumsy. He perched lightly on top of a streetlight when he wrote his little note for the local police. The perpetrator was stuck to the sidewalk with his hands webbed behind him. When he heard the sirens, Spider-Man gave the crowd a jaunty salute and leapt off the streetlamp. He has airborn for a moment before sending out a silent web and swinging down the street, no doubt on his way to the next person who needed his help.

Tim followed, keeping a safe distance but never letting him stay out of his sight for long. Spider-Man was almost like a solo Robin, making quips and bouncing around all over the place. Helping everyone to feel safe and reassured. He’d never considered that a vigilante could be a friend to their neighbourhood. Batman and Robin were protectors. Most of the citizens of Gotham appreciated, or at least tolerated them being there. But when they pointed out Batman’s silouette across the sky, it was always with fear. If Batman was around, then it meant something worse was hidden in the shadows. It was time to lock your doors and windows and ensure your gas mask was nearby. Spider-Man didn’t just stop violent crimes. He swooped in to save a cat from being hit by a car. He warned teens about staying off the train tracks and instead directed them towards some blank walls for their ‘street art’ (graffiti) and he even hung around to watch over them. He helped an old man carry his groceries up to his apartment when the elevator was broken (and provided Mr Starks details to pay for the repair). Whetever was plagueing the citizens of Queens, Spider-Man would fumble to find a solution.

The only downside was that this mostly lead to some boring photos. Of course there were the great action shots as he was swinging around, but Tim was sure that the Bugle had plenty of these. Shots of Spider-Man carrying peoples groceries or hanging out with teenagers were hardly news worthy content. Chasing Spider-Man was also much more difficult than chasing Batman had been, something which he would never share with Bruce. Spider-Man and his webs were fast, he could cross vast distances faster than anyone he’d ever seen and he never seemed to tire. He didn’t seen to spend any time lurking on roof tops keeping an eye out, he seemed to hear the chaos before it even happened and head over there. He could climb walls without any other visible gadgets, and leap between buildings, distances that none of the Robins could match. Even Damian would have had to admit that despite his lack of training, Spider-Man was good at what he did. The idea of Damian trying to keep up with this meta, and undoubtedly challanging him to a fight was an amusing one. Once Damian had decided he was going to fight you, you didn’t get a say in the matter. He’d attack until either one of you was incapacitated, then keep attacking until he won. Dick was still the only person who could get him to back off.

Despite being a wild goose chase, Tim was still having a lot of fun. He wasn’t used to having to navigate on the streets during daylight hours on foot, and he didn’t have access to any of his usual shortcuts. He liked the post its Spider-Man left. He liked hearing Spider-Man share his local knowledge like the friendliest bodega cats and best routes on the subway.

They were both distracted from a heated debate with some locals about the best place for pizza slices by the sudden rumblings of thunder overhead.

“Aw not again…” Spider-Man said, looking over to the Queensboro Bridge where some very angry storm clouds were beginning to form. He’d began swinging over without hesitation as the power cut out out on the Manhatten side of the river. Tim paused for a moment, his heart pounding and his breath catching in his throat. The clouds covered maybe a mile, a clean edge between them and the otherwise clear skies, and air almost seemed to have chilled but the thing in his arm seemed to be heating up in response, making it uncomfortably warm.

He remembered how it felt, being shredded apart. Trying to hold himself together, unsure if he would ever be himself again or just stuck in that dreadful limbo, neither alive or dead, in his world or another. Alone and in pieces. He didn’t want to do that again. He wasn’t sure that he could.

But he wanted to go home.

He forced himself to move, to run as fast as he could towards the storm with it’s hammering rain and lightning. There were crowds of people running away from the bridge now, and he had to take a less direct route to avoid pushing against the crowds. He pulled up his hood and slipped on his cheap domino mask as he ducked behind the cars that had been hastilty abandoned. Even if Tim Drake didn’t exist in this universe to be recognised, he wouldn’t be left unable to fight back this time because he was a civilian. Spider-Man was directing people to run the Queen’s side, as he lassooed awful bat shaped drones that were swarming over the storm covered area. Tim reached carefully for one that had clearly been crushed underfoot on the bridge and turned it over in hands. Despite his initial hope, these were not batdrones. They had sharp, almost knife like wings that would cut anything they came into contact with, forcing Spider-Man to aim his webs at their ugly thick bodies and hideous faces. Hesitantly, he rolled up his sleeve and held the false bat next to his arm, and swallowed as he confirmed they seemed to be made of the same, steel like material. When they came close, the thing in his arm and the drone seemed to begin vibrating and heat up, acknowledging each others presence. He threw the drone away in shock and pulled down his sleeve, but it seemed too late. The other drones turned from their random sweeping attacks, fixing their awful faces with piercing green eyes and stretched out grins upon him.

“Get out of here!” Spider-Man yelled at him, as the drones began to swoop. Tim rolled out of the way as they crashed into the cars, passing through the metal like butter and impaling themselves in the main structure of the bridge. A brilliant idea, in theory. If running away didn’t involve turning his back on the flying knives that suddenly seemed fixated on impaling him. It took everything he had to keep evading as Spider-Man webbed everything he could see in place. He missed his staff, batarangs and grapple gun. He hated to essentially be bait, confined to the ground and leading the drones to where Spider-Man could deal with them. Then, as quickly as the storm had begun, the clouds parted and the sky cleared. The remaining bats fell to the ground, their eyes empty and their bodies still.

Spider-Man landed lightly in front of him

“Did any of them get you? I’m so sorry, I’ve never seen them do that before.” He asked. Tim hadn’t noticed earlier that there was something almost familar about his voice, unless it was simply the familar concern

“I’m fine. Do you deal with those things a lot?”

Spider-Mans mask narrowed his eyes as he tilted his head to the side “You haven’t seen them swooping around the city during the storms?”

“Well not acting like that.”

Tim started to back away, but Spider-Man went to walk next to him in the right.

“I know I’m not one to ask, but is there a reason you’re wearing a mask? Do you know something about whats going on?”

Tim made sure his hood was pulled as far forward as possible as he looked away

“I like my privacy.”

“If somethings after you, you can tell me, I can probably help. It’s sort of what I do.”

“Thanks but no thanks. I’m handling it.”

Spider-Man himself seemed nice enough and doing his best, but Tim couldn’t shake the gnawing anxiety in his chest that said to stay away from Stark, at least for the time being. A man who’s family fortune came from military weapons that had destroyed who knew how many lives, who now seemed to constantly have a camera in his face showing all the good he was doing and Spider-Man sticking his name on all his little good deeds across the city, letting everyone know that even though Spider-Man had prevented the crime, it would be Stark who made it all better.

“You’re entitled to your privacy and all, but if whatever is coming after you is going to attack the rest of us in this city, you need to tell me what you know!” Spider-Man pressed, the frustation mounting in his voice.

Hey Spider-Man, so I’m actually from another universe, and there’s a chance a maniac from that universe may stumble out of one of those storm clouds one day with a bunch of robots. His evil monologue was actually super unhelpful, apart from revealing he may know my whole families secret identities, but they don’t exist here so that’s fine. You can probably just stick him to a wall if he shows his ugly face.

“You’re probably all fine.”

Spider-Man reached for his arm, and Tim jumped out of the way. He glared from behind his mask at the white eyes of Spider-Mans. He missed his own costume. He hated looking like some civilian in over their head instead of someone who’d been trained to deal with these sorts of things, who’d been working with situations like this for as long as he could remember.

Spider-Man stopped walking.

“You’re not dealing with this alone.” He said simply, he wasn’t asking permission to be involved anymore. He was letting Tim know that he wasn’t letting this go, not really.

“Appreciate it. Thanks for not letting those things kill me.” Tim said, giving Spider-Man a small smile as he darted into the approaching crowds of emergancy service veichles and curious onlookers. He kept out of sight, ensuring he didn’t have a tail before removing the mask again.

—

“I’m not going and you can’t make me!” Damian yelled, throwing his shoes at Bruce. The last hour had been a battle of Alfred putting something in Damian’s suitcase, and Damian pulling it out and throwing it. All of them had been there in the living room when Bruce told them he was sending Damian to Metropolis until things calmed down, but most of them had fled on patrol before the packing had started. Now it was just Dick and Clark watching the battle of wills between the Waynes.

“I am making you.” Bruce said, his face still “You can cry and throw a tantrum, but the end result will be the same.”

“I’m Robin! You need me to…”

“I do not need you, and I do not want you.” Bruce said “I want you in Metropolis, where Clark and Jon can make sure that nothing happens to you.”

“I’m not like Drake! I won’t…”

“Damian.” Dick warned, crossing his arms. This was getting far too close to saying things that couldn’t be taken back. He turned to Bruce “You should probably leave. Go and get Clark a drink or something, just give us some space.”

“That’s…probably a good idea.” Clark said, nervously adjusting his glasses.

“I want Clark to check him and his bag before they leave. No suit. No weapons.” Bruce said. Damian opened his mouth to protest, but clamped it shut when caught Dicks eye. Alfred turned to follow, but Dick caught his arm

“Would you stay?” He asked quietly, then clarified to Damian “Not to pack right now, just to talk.”

He sat cross legged on the floor, and Alfred sat on the edge of the bed. Damian’s furious face looked them over, searching for the trap, before joining Dick on the floor.

“You have to tell him that I’m not going.” He said, but he was tired now, the rage wearing off.

“I can’t do that Damian. He’s your father and…Well…He’s Batman. If he says that he wants you to go to Metropolis, then that’s what he’s going to make happen. One way or another.” Dick said softly “And honestly, it’s probably a good idea.”

“I’ll just run back here, Jon will help me. You know he will.”

“I believe Mrs Kent is talking with Jon to discourage exactly that from happening.” Alfred said calmly

“Damian, none of us want you to go. We don’t want to send you away because we think that you can’t handle yourself. I know that you’re worried about Tim, and you want to help us to look for him. But for a little while, what we really need is for you to trust us that we are going to do everything we can to bring Tim back. And the best way that you can help us is for us to be able to trust that you are safe.”

“I’m safe with Batman.” Damian said stubbornly, but he was staring intensely at the carpet.

“The thing is Damian, and this is just a conversation between us.” Dick said, his hands clenched in his lap “Last time Batman lost a Robin…Things were very bad for all of us, and we don’t know yet how things are going to go. Has Tim ever told you about how he became Robin?”

“He replaced Jason, so that Father could be Batman again.” Damian said quietly. Dick grimaced.

“Master Timothy tracked down Master Richard a few months after Master Jason died. He, along with others, had noticed that recent change in Batman now he was out without his Robin. But he was the one who knew their identities.” Alfred smiled softly at Dick “I do believe that he became very frustrated when you refused to wear your old costume.”

Dick couldn’t help laughing at the memory “He was so serious ‘You have to go as Robin, not as Nightwing! He needs Robin!’ As though I could still wear those shorts!”

“Master Richard went to help your Master Bruce, as Nightwing. But Master Timothy couldn’t stand waiting in the cave with me! He knew that Batman needed help, and he needed Robin. So, he took the Robin costume and I drove him to where Batman and Nightwing were in desperate need of help. Completely untrained and inexperianced, he rushed in there to save Batman. Because that is what Robin does.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do, except I know what I’m doing.” Damian muttered

“The thing is Damian, it wasn’t Tim putting on that costume that saved Batman. Alfred and I…We’d seen more than anyone how much he was suffering after Jason’s death. He couldn’t move on and it was consuming him. It took all three of us to convince Bruce to even give having a partner a chance. It wasn’t just about Batman and Robin, it was about all of us, being there for each other. We’re a family, and we’re going to look out for each other. Even when it’s difficult, and we’re not even sure if we like each other any more, we will always save each other.”

“Do you think that Drake is dead?” Damian asked, very softly

“No, I don’t. Because if what happened to Tim had happened to any of us, he wouldn’t have accepted we were dead. He wouldn’t have given up on us.” Dick leaned forward slightly “And he knows that you care about him. We all know that.”

Damian gave him one stiff nod.

“As my Robin, could you help me by staying in Metropolis a while?”

“I have conditions.” Damian crossed his arms, and looked at both of them seriously.

“We will do our best, Master Damian.” Alfred said, equally serious.

“You,” Damian pointed firmly at Alfred “Will be completely responsible for all of the animals. I expect daily updates. This is your top priority.”

“Of course, Master Damian.” Alfred gave a slight bow

“And, when it’s time for me to come back, you’ll collect me in the helicopter. I’m not having Jon carry me.”

“Of course, Master Damian. It would be my pleasure.”

Damian focused his attention on Dick

“You’re going to call me everyday and tell me everything that’s happening. Everything.” He said solomly “When you need my help, you’ll send Alfred to get me right away, even if Father tells you not to.”

Dick nodded

“I can agree to that. Can I ask something of you in return?”

“You can ask.”

“Can you try and behave for the Kent’s while you are staying with them?”

Damian thought very hard before saying “I can try to behave as well as Jon.”

“That’ll have to be good enough.” Dick laughed, but he held out his hand. Damian shook it firmly.

“If I was going to stay with Mister Kent, and there was anything in particular that I wanted to bring with me, I might want to put them inside my lead lined pockets while he was giving us some privacy.” Alfred said to the room at large, triggering Damian to jump up and begin gathering his clothes frantically, along with a concerning number of knives he had stashed in every imaginable corner. Dick sighed, pushing himself up to join Alfred on the bed, and he leant his head against the older mans shoulder.

“I’m not sure that I can do this again.” He said, too quietly for Damian to hear. Alfred lifted his hand and brushed it through Dick’s dark hair, as he had done when he was a very small boy and had first come to the manor.

“I know that you can, Master Richard. The weight does not rest on our shoulders alone.”

Chapter Text

Peter and Ned had the lab to themselves today, the benches covered in bits of bat-drone. Ned had ensured that all the recording devices were disconnected before letting Peter come near them without his mask. The only thing that seemed able to cut the things open was their own bladed wings, Peter was trying to get into the body without destroying the internal circuitry, while Ned went over the footage he’d manage to extract.

“Did you see him do anything before they attacked?” Ned asked, zooming in on the masked guy as the jumped out of the way of an attack, landing in a pose Black Widow would have been proud of.

“No, I was focused on trying to evacuate everyone from the swarm. Then just Bam, turn around and this guy is there holding one of them.”

“Do you think he was trying to get them to attack you?”

“I don’t know what he was doing there.” Peter said, scowling at the inside of his bat. The thing was set up to collect visual and audio data and relay it back. They hadn’t found where to yet. They also all seemed to work off some sort of AI Hivemind which totally wasn’t creepy.

The storms and bats had been plauging his neighborhood for weeks now, only increasing in frequency and intensity. He and Ned still hadn’t found out what was causing them, except it was probably alien. A weather alien bat.

“The bat things recognised him, look here…” Ned said, bringing the clip up as a hologram for Peter to see from across the room. Rather than locking into his face, it looked like almost thermal recognition. Everything else in the background became darkened and dulled while the masked guy was clear and bright. Glowing almost white, was a circular object on his arm. The bats had set their attacks not on the guys head or torso, but rather his arms and legs. Looking to wound or incapacitate him rather than kill.

“I saw he had something on his arm! Only briefly but it was there!” Peter exclaimed, pointing at the image

“So whoever made these bat things is looking for whatever Masked Guy has!” Ned spun in his chair triumphantly “So all we have to do is find Masked Guy, and he can tell us whats going on!”

“I’m don’t know... He didn’t seem to know what the bats were either, and he didn’t really want to talk to Spider-Man. I think he’s like us and trying to work out whats going on, but I don’t think he’s a random vigilante-wanna-be. His responses were too quick, and it was like he was trying to lead the bats to the beams so I could stick them more easily. He’s just…weird…”

The last few years as Spider-Man had helped Peter to get a pretty good sense of people. He could tell by how they shifted their weight, their heart rate and their breathing, how they were feeling. What their intentions were. It wasn’t flawless and it was mostly just instinct, but to meet someone who he couldn’t suss out was frustrating. Masked Guy knew how to fight, but he didn’t want to fight Spider-Man. But he also didn’t want to work with Spider-Man. Someone new showing up and working solo after weeks of this weirdness was not something he appreciated. This was his neighbourhood.

“Maybe he stole some tech from the Weather Alien, who now is trying to get it back.” Ned suggested

“Maybe, but did he steal it to stop him from destroying the city, or because he wants to use it in his own plan?”

“Do you think it’s worth asking Mr Stark…”

“No! We’re handling this!” Peter interrupted him. Tony had announced his second official retirement as Iron Man shortly after they’d defeated Thanos. No one actually expected him to leave his suits to rust if someone else came along threatening the universe, but Peter didn’t want to be the one to drag him out for a fight unless he really had to. Especially now that there was Morgan waiting for her dad back home.

He wasn’t unaware that he was the main reason Tony would spend days at a time in the New York penthouse. If he and Ned could crack this, their first potentially big threat to the city since the blip, then maybe Tony wouldn’t feel obligated to hang around and keep an eye on things. Then Morgan wouldn’t have to grow up any more without her dad around.

“Friday, try running Masked Guy through the facial regonition software. Please.” Ned said

“Right away Ned.” Friday responded. Even with his mask and hoodie, she should be able to find a match.

“We also…need to identify this metal…” Peter said, slicing a chunk off the bat and placing it on the XRF Spectrometer “Check against all earth materials and if you don’t get a match, go off planet”

“Of course, Peter.”

“If the bats recognised him, then there’s a chance we could replicate that. Then we’d be able to scan for whatever it is about him that’s weird and talk with him. Of course it needs to be something that you can take on patrol with you…”

“And we can’t risk it feeding back to whoever sent those bat things.”

“No facial matches found for your Masked Guy in any accessible databases.” Friday interrupted. Both boys looked at each other in shock. It was very rare for Stark Tech to let them down.

“Run it again against the footage from my suit.” Peter said, Friday obliged but again, no matches.

“How can he not exist? How can someone just…Not exist? Do you think his mask is designed to confuse AI?” Ned asked, staring in disbelief at Masked Guy.

“It just looked like any old halloween mask.” Peter said, staring into the intense blue eyes visible from behind the plastic mask, that honestly wasn’t doing that great a job at hiding his face. He seemed pretty young still, he was shorter than Peter by at least a few inches. Probably still in high school. There was something that felt older about him though, the confidence in his posture and the intensity in his blue, like he was seeing right through Peter’s mask and making his own judgements about who he was. The weird almost staticky energy about him and how quickly his heart rate had returned to normal after the initial attack. He didn’t like the idea of this guy out on his streets.

“So we need to focus on making that scanner and tracking him down the old fashioned way.” Ned groaned, leaning back in his chair

“And work out whats up with the storms and the bats.” Peter moaned, slouching into his own chair. This was on top of helping May at Feast, Spider-Man patrols and school. Pepper had been talking about him actually interning at Stark Industries over the summer as well so he needed to submit an application for that, even if it was just a formality. Ned seemed to spot how he was beginning to spiral from across the room as he shut his laptop.

“I think we need fuel before working on this anymore. Lets order pizza.. You’ve still got that card from Tony right?”

Peter couldn’t help grinning “I think fuel for the scientists definitely counts as a ‘lab expense’.”

No food was allowed in the lab, so they spread the 5 pizzas, garlic bread and soda out along the table in one of the empty board rooms. With his enchanced metabolism, Peter could easily eat four on his own in one sitting, especially with the extra anxiety he was running right now.

Ned was on his laptop, working out the code and programming for their scanner, while Peter focused on designing the actual machine. He couldn’t wear it on his wrists because of his web shooters and he had to keep his hands free for swinging, so he focused on trying to make small enough to wear around his upper arm, like those phone holders some people used when jogging in Central Park. It just needed to be able to scan for Masked Guys weird energy, and then communicate the general location to Karen in his suit. This was an easier to manage puzzle, it either worked or it didn’t, and they could work on it together until they got it right. Sitting there, with the sun streaming through the window and the New York skyline below, the comforting tap of Neds keyboard keys and the smell of greasy fast food, none of it felt quite that bad. Whatever was going on, they’d get to the bottom of it. Spider-Man and his Guy in the Chair.

—

“We have lockers availible if you’d like to put your things somewhere safe while you shower.” Eleanor said with a smile that she clearly intended to be comforting. She was probably around her mid to late 20's, hadn't given up on the system yet but was growing tired. Her clothes were cheap, but she was neat and tidy. It was Tims first meeting with his caseworker and he was baginning to regret not just risking it on the streets that first night. They were in a small private office with one small, high up window and an emergancy button next to the desk. The chairs were plastic and uncomfortable and too close for comfort due to the size of the room. He knew he was filthy and probably smelt terribly, he almost felt bad for her having to be so near. His hair was becoming greasy and he’d pulled it back into a stupid small ponytail so that the lank strands weren’t in his face all the time. He scratched his right arm, the Thing concealed underneath his stupid I Love New York hoodie. His leg tucked through the strap of his stupid matching backpack.

“I’m fine.”

The Thing was probably waterproof, it had been fine in the storm yesterday. But the sight of it disgusted him. The idea of anyone seeing it, and asking questions, was just too much to contend with right now. He already had a headache.

“All of the shower cubicles have doors that lock if you’re concerned about privacy…” Eleanor continued

A single straight sliding bolt that any well placed kick could take down, not to mention the gaps above and below each cubicle to discourage anyone sneaking things in or becoming intimate. Then there was the actual taking his clothes off in the public changing room, walking wrapped in a towel to the cubicle, looking at his arm as he lathered his hair…

“I’m fine.” He said again, crossing his arms over his chest, holding the right one close so no one could grab it. No one could look.

“If you’re sure…” She said, and she rustled her papers nervously as she tried to bring the meeting back under control “I understand you’ve been in New York a few days now, do you have any plans about how long you’re going to be staying?”

“Not long. I’m passing through."

"So you don't want to apply for permanent housing? You can stay here for up to 30 days..."

"I plan to be gone before then."

"Do you know where you're going."

"Back to New Jersey."

"And you have people to stay with there?"

"Yes."

"Do you need help organising travel to them?"

Tim maintained his straight face. How he wished that Eleanor, who was just trying to do her job, was capable of helping him to get home. Sadly, travelling across universes probably wasn't in her skillset.

"I'm organising that myself." He said simply, the easiest answer that wasn't a straight up lie

"I understand you've started an application for identity documentation. There's quite a backlog so we can't guarantee it'll be processed before you leave here. Do you have an address that we can put down, in case they need to be forwarded?"

"I'll ask."

Could you set up a PO box if you didn't exist? He'd have to check.

"And do you have a phone number for anyone that we can contact, to let them know you're here and you're safe?"

"No."

This Number is Not In Service.

Eleanor chewed the cap of her biro. He almost felt bad being so unhelpful and uncooperative, but it wasn't as if there was an alternative. His arm itched and he resisted the urge to scratch and draw attention to it.

"We offer support for people who are fleeing domestic violence, unsafe situations. We wouldn't report anything to the police without your consent..." She tried again

"I'm fine."

There's no way anyone would believe that looking at him right now. He needed to get it together.

"And if anyone is threatening you, we can help."

The idea of sweet, tired Eleanor in front of Strange, asking him if he wanted to join a group session, would be funny if it wasn't so sickening. He could still see his wide grin, the manic flash in his eyes, Cass and Dukes anxiety as they waited for whatever plan he had to kick in, for him to escape...

"I'm fine. Are we done?"

He was dismissed with some more flyers about support groups and helplines. He caught a glimpse of Eleanor's nearly blank form when he stood up and felt another pang of guilt, it wasn't her fault that this was beyond her capabilities. It was beyond his.

He grabbed a paper cup of the gross coffee as he headed outside, needing to be moving right now. He couldn't stand being in the shelter, constantly having to be on guard and having everyone sizing him up. He'd managed to avoid any trouble so far by keeping his distance. You couldn't live in Gotham for any length of time without developing a good cold glare that told everyone you would fight back if they tried anything.

He had that same expression on his face now. He was sick of not having a phone that worked, having to go to the library to log into a computer for every little thing was tedious and could quickly get expensive with all the subway fares. He was sick of not having a grappling gun. He was sick of New York. It was too big, too bright, and it never shut up. But he had print outs and he had a plan.

He’d managed to get his basically useless phone logged into the wifi long enough to send his photos to his brand new email address, so he could print them out. They were all safely tucked into his backpack now, in a plastic wallet the guy behind the desk had been kind enough to give to him. He’s done his best to clean up in the library bathrooms to look presentable for this part of the plan, giving his hair a wash with the hand soap over the sink and having a quick scrub of his face. The hated hoodie was in the bag as well, so he was only wearing his cleanest and smartest of his two t-shirts. He still had to hope that a newspaper that seemed to make most of its sales hating on a local vigilante wasn’t too fussy about the apperance of their sources as he waited in the Bugles reception. The walls were covered in framed paper clippings, all by the famous J. Jonah. Jamerson.

The man himself came in, and Tim jumped to his feet. On autopilot he stuck out his hand and gave his best greeting-guests-at-a-gala smile. If Jamerson noticed, he didn’t acknowledge it.

“I hear you have pictures of Spider-Man?” Jamerson huffed as he lit a cigar. Tim’s eyes flciked up to the fire alarm and noticed that it was open, the batteries removed.

“Yes sir, recent ones. Exclusives.” Tim promised, pulling out his plastic wallet. Jamerson snatched it and rifled through. As Tim had predicted the ariel action shots were quickly tossed to the side, and while he was cursing himself for not having any pictures of Spider-Man webbing the weird not-bat-drones, Jamerson paused.

“What was happening here?” He asked, holding up the pictures of Spider-Man and the teenagers

“There were some teens trying to get on the subway tracks, they wanted to graffiti the trains and tunnels. Spider-Man stopped them because it was dangerous, then showed them some blank walls in a safer location. He hung around while they were painting and chatted with them as well.”

Jamerson puffed his cigar, looking at the pictures

“So…Spider-Man, who is the suppossed ‘Protector’ of this city, helped teens to vandalise private property? Did he at any point ask the owner of the building whether these delinquents could scrawl all over his walls?”

“No sir.” Tim replied, but he wasn’t even sure Jamerson heard, he was looking to pleased with himself, as though he had made a great discovery.

“I’ll give you $100 for these, and if you bring me more of Spider-Man assisting with the crimes he claims to be preventing, then we can negotiate. I pay extra for anything that helps to prove who’s under the mask.”

“Would that be in cash, sir?” Tim asked and Jamerson looked down at him

“Does that make a difference?”

“Yes sir, I don’t have a bank account.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust them sir.”

Tim ended up leaving with $150 in his pocket after Jamerson decided he also liked the pictures of Spider-Man webbing an unlocked bicycle to a fire hydrant. Jamerson was cheap, but his complete lack of interest in Tim himself was more than he could of wished for. He was almost smiling as he made his way to his next stop, a martial arts equitment store.

He skipped past all the kids karate belts and uniforms, gloves and helmets. Seeing the weapons lined up on the wall was the most at home he’d felt since he got here. They had escrima sticks for Dick, swords for Damien and most importantly, bo staffs. Jason needed a different kind of store for his arsenal.

None of the availible staffs would compare to his custom Red Robin staff, but he had never relied upon having good equipment. Whatever weapon he had, he’d make it work. He gently took hold of one of the metal staffs, a collapsable one. That would be most conveniant, easier to hide from the No Weapons policy and less suspicious when out in the city. It was heavier than he was used to, and expanded by pressing buttons on the central handle. A little bit finicky if you were in a rush

“Kid! Can’t you read?” Someone yelled, and Tim startled, barely restraining himself from turning to staff on unfortunate employee. He scanned quickly and saw the multiple signs stating that customers were not allowed to touch the weapons without a member of staff present.

“I’m so sorry” He apologised, returning the staff to it’s mount as quickly as possible “I was just trying to get a feel for it.”

The man was older than Bruce, but not as old as Alfred. His arms were crossed over his staff polo shirt as he eyed Tim with suspicion. He almost seemed to be evaluating him from his stance and build. Tim found himself pulling himself up to his full height almost in defence of a negative impression.

“You’ve trained with staffs before?” The man asked, his tone blunt and accusitory.

“Yes sir.”

“Which styles?”

“A variety really. Karate, kung fu, bojutsu, tae kwon do..”

“What gym do you train at?”

“Mostly with my brothers and my dad, but I’ve trained with some teachers abroad.”

The man nodded and gestured for Tim to retrieve the staff, then surprised him by locking the front door of the shop and flipping the closed sign. He turned to Tim, his face still unchanged.

“You can’t spin that thing around in here, there isn’t space. We’re heading over to the gym.”

Tim wasn’t sure if the man did this for every customer, it felt incredibly inefficent, but with the staff in his hands he wasn’t feeling too worried about following a stranger. Even if that stranger didn’t seem to think very much of him. Thankfully though he did just lead him to a gym across the street. There were some kids younger than Damian having a karate class on one side, laughing and mucking about as they threw feeble punches at each other.

“Do you have something you can move in to wear?” The man asked, looking at Tims jeans with definite disgust.

“Uh, yeah, in my bag.”

He hadn’t anticipated an outfit change to be involved in what he’d intended to be a quick retail purchase. But he got changed and warmed up as instructed. He hadn’t stretched in days, there was no space at the shelter and he’d been overwise preoccupied. It felt joyous to get his heart rate up even if it was just jogging around the mats, and to truly release some of the tension he’d been holding. The man was warming up as well, having fetched his own staff. It seemed that he had a more thorough idea of what getting the feel of a staff should involve than Tim had anticipated, but he wasn’t upset about it. He spun his staff through the air, getting the feel for it’s length and weight, feeling as though he’d regained a lost limb. When the man approached the centre of the mats, Tim joined him.

“The rules are that we spar until one of us is knocked to the ground. You have to stay on this side of the gym. Thats it.” The man said, and he lunged.

This probably would be considered poor customer service in most industries, Tim thought as he dodged lightly, easily swinging his own staff around and making contact with the mans. He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. The man couldn’t move as fast as Tim, he had to use his own staff to block most of Tim’s attacks instead of simply avoiding them. He clearly wasn’t a beginner or some washed up coach. This was a man who knew how to fight. It was almost like being back in the cave with Bruce or Dick. This man didn’t have Bruce’s strength or Dick’s agility, but he had the same confidence in himself and his weapon. He was clever in his attacks, learning to anticipate Tim’s movements and use them against him. Unfortunately for him, Tim could do the same. He wasn’t going to use his training against some random civilian (even if the man had directly challenged him), but he was confident he could outlast him. Now that they were getting the feel of each other, they were both managing to get some good hits in that were sure to leave some impressive bruises.

Instead of tiring and slowing down as he’d expected however, the mans intensity seemed to be increasing. It seemed like he knew that Tim was holding back, and he was trying to provoke him into showing his true strength. Forcing him to work harder, to fight back instead of blocking and evading. Which was exactly when Tim let him get a solid hit on his legs and bring him down. It had hurt, but honestly not enough to make him crumble naturally. He was vageuly aware that they’d attracted an audience from the karate class and he didn’t want to risk bringing more attention to them, or provoking too many awkward questions. He ignored the mans outstretched right hand to stand up on his own. He felt more alive than he had in days. There was a certain thrill to feeling the sweat on his skin, feeling his beating heart. It finally felt like, despite everything, he was still himself. He was still Robin.

“Thank you, that was fun.” He said, a genuine smile on his face, he gave the staff a satisfied spin “I’d like to buy this, if that’s still okay?”

“You let me win.” The man accused, looking far less satisfied

“It wasn’t a real fight, just a trial.”

There was no point lying, the man had seen right through him. It wasn’t a real fight, honestly if the man had come at him on the street he’d have been unconcious in moments. The fun of it had been meeting him where he was.

“I can take that back to the store for you, feel free to use the showers here, that class doesn’t finish for another 20 minutes.” The man said, taking the staff from Tim.

A shower. That was almost as good as the fight. The showers were empty thankfully. He gave his t-shirt an inquisitive sniff, he really needed to work out some sort of laundry situation soon. He braced himself before checking his arm, the skin around the Thing seemed to healing alright despite everything. He didn’t know what he’d have done if there was any sign of infection, he didn’t exactly have a doctor here who wouldn’t ask any awkward questions. Or health insurance. It hurt less than before when he tugged at it, which was somehow more distressing, as though it was becoming comfortable inside of him, becoming a part of him.

He didn’t have time for this. He didn’t have time to really enjoy the shower in general, and tried to minimise the amount of water that touched the Thing. But it was wonderful to wash off some of the city grime, even if he had to pull dirty jeans onto his still damp body. He jogged back over to the shop, still on the high of it all.

The man was behind the till, the staff collapsed in front of him.

“Thank you so much for that, seriously.” Tim said, pulling out his wallet

“What’s your name kid?”

“Tim, and yours?”

“David. You’re good, you’ve had some good teachers. Why did they teach you to fight like that?”

“I guess we all just have a mutual interest in martial arts.” Tim shrugged

“That’s not what I meant. You’ve clearly been trained to hurt, and fight to win. Why would you dad want you to fight like that?”

He didn’t like feeling seen like this, a secret part of himself being exposed and worse, judged. Even worse was the idea of someone thinking that Bruce’s training was a bad thing. He’d had to prove himself worthy of it, unlike all the other Robins who’d been chosen.

“You’d have to ask him.” He wasn’t smiling anymore, as he started to pull a few bills out of his wallet, trying to speed this whole thing along.

“Fine, none of my business. I’m not gonna stick my nose into it.” David shrugged “It’s going to be hard to stay that good if you aren’t taking care of yourself. If you need a place to train or wash, and the gymns not busy, you’re welcome to go over and use it. If anyone gives you any trouble just tell them I said its fine. Just don’t let me catch you using that thing on the streets.”

“Thanks, that’s um…really nice of you.” Tim said, taken aback.

“I’d rather you were spinning that thing around where I can see it’s not hurting anyone.”

Tim squirmed under his gaze. He felt like he was being benched from patrol for not doing his homework or something equally childish. He wasn’t some reckless kid who went around picking fights, he just knew how to win if someone picked one with him.

“Well, thank you. I promise not to hit anyone with it.”

Unless they tried to hit him first.

The staff ended up using all his Bugle money and a little more, but it was a welcome weight in his backpack that made him feel lighter. If those bat things came at him again, he wouldn’t have to rely on another hero rushing to his rescue. He wasn’t just some lost kid in the city anymore.

He was painfully aware of how quickly the money was leaving his wallet, much faster than it was coming in, but he had one more survival purchase he needed to make. The digital camera from the thrift store wasn’t anything too fancy, but it was perfect.

Tim generally had the problem that he took in too much information. He’d always been that way, and it was normally useful. It was what made him stand out as a Robin. He was the one who could see what the others couldn’t, connect the dots and form the plan. He’d always had to be that way to get by. When he was a child it was trying to find out what sort of son he needed to be in order to get his parents to stay. At boarding school it had been finding out how to make friends and muck about, while always knowing where the line was, and when it needed to be crossed. Following Batman it had been about learning the entire city, how it breathed and how it’s villains thought so he could predict its next move and how Batman might retaliate. Working as Robin he always needed to anticipate how his opponents would act and how Batman needed him to respond. What Batman needed him to be.

But it was a lot of information. It was a lot to be constantly processing and analysing and deciding his next move. His head was always busy and it was exhausting.

Just being in Central Park with his camera, learning the settings and how to use it was a welcome filter. The world only existed through the lens, and nothing outside of that needed to be perceived. New York and this universe perhaps weren’t as different from Gotham as he’d once thought. City pigeons were the same everywhere. Bold, hungry creatures in huge messy groups. They were brilliant. A headache had reminded him that he hadn’t eaten that day and he’d bought a bag of doughnuts. He’d tear of chunks, a piece in his mouth then a piece scattered for the birds. He snapped pictures of them bickering over the food, how they would puff up their feathers so they looked all silly and fluffy. He liked Central Park, how the buildings towered over the green tops of the trees. With Poisen Ivy around it wasn’t really safe for Gotham to have large green spaces like this anymore, so lots of them had been paved over (Courtesy of the Wayne Foundation). Gotham’s architecture as well looked kind of bleak and old fashioned, the low hanging smog covering the tops of the tallest buildings, giving outside an almost clastrophobic air. New Yorks big shiny buildings were awe inspiring in comparison, especially beneath the clear blue sky that reflected off the many glass windows.

Park. Pigeons. Photos. It was nice.

—

Peter was late for his patrol and restless after being inside the lab for so long. He’d decided to take the detour through Central Park because he just wanted some space to breathe. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither were scanners that were looking for something they hadn’t been able to identify. Friday hadn’t had any more luck identifying the metal than she had the masked guy. Two things that didn’t exist showing up in New York at the same time wasn’t good news. With the Stark Expo in just over a week, he really wanted this cleaned up quickly. He was expected to be at the expo as Peter Parker, Tony Starks intern and protgégé, so he wouldn’t be able to keep away any threats to the tech as Spider-Man.

He became aware of something being wrong, the sort of tension in the air like a storm was about the break. A build up of energy in the atomospher. He stopped in the path, suddenly noticing the unusual amount of pigeons. Crouched on the grass nearby was a boy, face bowed over his camera. His dark hair was covering most of his face, but he still see the slight smile on his face. The pigeons were beginning to close in on his bag of doughnuts while he was distracted. When he looked up to move the bag, Peter got a better look at his face and he was able to place him.

“Tim right? We met the other day!” Peter said, shoving down the anxiety that told him not to bring up their embarressing meeting earlier in the week. Tim flinched dramatically at the greeting, jumping up to his feet as his face flicked from defensive to vague recognition. He looked much worse than he had on thursday, which was saying something. There were deep dark circles carved under his eyes and a tension in his jaw. He wasn’t wearing his fancy school uniform anymore, but dirty jeans and a hoodie.

“Oh. Yeah. Nice to see you again.” Tim said, shoving both hands deep into his pockets, letting his camera hang from the strap around his neck.

“Did you manage to meet up with your field trip again okay? I was a little worried…”

“Yeah that was all fine. Thank you, for your help the other day. You didn’t have to.”

There was no sign of Tims field trip. He’d kind of assumed that a private school would want to keep a closer eye on its students, trying to make that they were all safe and having a good time so their parents felt like they were getting good value for money. Peter ran his hand nervously through his hair

“I’m sorry for the other day if I like…Offended you or something…With the Feast flyer.” He managed to say, feeling the heat rising to his face. Tim looked genuinly confused when he glanced at him.

“Oh…Don’t worry, you didn’t.”

Okay so he’d misread that freak out back at Starkbucks. Maybe Tim had just realised the time and needed to return to his trip. Or he hated superheroes. Quite a few people still had some resentment that the Blip ever happened in the first place. But this conversation wasn’t going any better than their one back then. He wanted to just bolt and leave. Why had he stopped??

“Do you like pigeons?” He blurted out. Smooth. Very smooth.

“I guess so. They’re kind of funny.” Tim nodded down to his camera “We’re all meant to be taking photos of life in the city for my photography class, so pigeons seemed like a good choice.

“That’s so cool. How long have you been into photography?”

“A while. I just like taking photos of cities really.”

“Oh well New Yorks the best for that! Have you been up on any of the roofs? The views of the skyline…”

“Roofs? Like…Top of the Rock and the Empire State?” Tim asked, an almost smug smile on his face. The heat in Peters face intensified. Stupid slip. Of course most teens weren’t swinging around the tops of New Yorks buildings

“Yes! Exactly! Its the best view in the world!”

“You’re always going to think your home has the best view, but I guess New York is growing on me.” Tim leant his face back, taking in the view above them.

“Where abouts are you from? Whats it like?”

“Trenton, New Jersey. I guess…It’s home and I wouldn’t want to live anywhere else, but it’s not really a place people like to visit.” Tim smiled like there was some sort of private joke here “Have you always lived in New York?”

“Yeah, but over in Queens. I just have to come to Manhatten for school and my internship stuff. Manhattens nice and stuff but Queens is home.”

“You’re old enough for an internship?” Tim asked, surprised.

“I’m 16, and I’ve been interning at Stark for over a year. How old are you?” Peter said, unable to help feeling slightly put out. Tim grinned

“I’m 17, so I win.”

Tim was at least a few inches shorter than Peter, so finding out that Tim was older was a little bit of a surprise. He had a mature confidence about him today that made him feel more adult. Thinking about internships though had made him remember his other job though, that he was already late to.

“Sorry, I really have to dash, I promised my aunt I’d help her out this evening. Hopefully I’ll bump into you again before you head home?”

“Sure thing.” Tim said, waving him off with a smile this time.

Chapter Text

Bats in Gotham were comforting. They hid in the dark and swooped to control the pest population. Most common petty criminals could be deterred by hearing the flutter of a cape, the thump of someone landing behind them or the thunk of a grappling gun. People felt safer walking the streets when they saw a silouette hopping along the rooftops beside them, or crouched over a bus stop.

Bats in New York were awful.

Tim had never been more relieved that he’d chosen Red Robin as his new handle instead of something bat themed. Spider-Mans patrols were dominated by swarms of the things, despite the lack of storms. Jamerson loved the photos he’d been brought of bats carelessly webbed to local businesses signs and cars, and Spider-Man almost knocking down a young mother as he’d swung past (Not pictured of course was him stopping to see if she was alright). Spider-Mans patrols in general at the moment were messy, lacking in the light hearted energy that had flowed from him the first time Tim had followed. He couldn’t shake the feeling that part of it had to do with him, and the masked hero resenting an unknown guy showing up and seeming to provoke the new threat he was dealing with. He’d been carefully testing how close he could get to the web slinger before there signs of being noticed. Spider-Mans meta abilities definitely included better hearing and eye sight than a normal person, it was easier to sneak up on Cass than this guy, and he seemed extra clued into Tim. Even when he was concealed in crowds, Spider-Mans head would turn and try and pick him out. If it wasn’t so irritating that it was basically impossible to eavesdrop on him, it would be fun working out his blind spots. It didn’t feel as though Spider-Man was intentionally cautious however, just clued into his surroundings. More than once he’d found the guys backpack simply webbed to a wall or a dumpster. Jamerson had mentioned paying a considerable amount of clues on Spider-Mans identity, which forced Tim to make a concious effort not to discover it. Whenever Spider-Man took his mask off in an alley he’d rapidly look away. It wasn’t like he’d recognise the guy anyway, but it just felt so fundamentaly wrong to find out someones identity for money, even if he never intended the cash the cheque. He had to draw the moral line somewhere.

Trailing Spider-Man was also useful gathering information on the weird bats. They didn’t seem to respond properly to physical attacks, all they seemed to do was temporarily knock them out of formation. They made easy work of slicing the webs that Spider-Man swung around from, and it was quite impressive seeing him catching himself, sometimes by just his fingertips on a street lamp.

Tim was constantly having to duck into the subway or shops to try and avoid them. He’d so far been able to avoid another attack, but he didn’t like it at all. He didn’t exist in this universe. Why was he the one being targetted? Even if the bats didn’t get him, they would definitely bring Spider-mans attention over. Even the bat-like design felt intentional, trying to lure him in with something safe and familar just to pin him down. It didn’t even feel like Strange’s robots had at the school. They had been huge machanical monsters, but they had felt controlled. These bats felt almost alive in how they moved and coordinated. It wasn’t like any tech he’d encountered in Gotham. It made him miss the Bat Caves lab more than ever. It was so frustrating having the questions held in front of him, when he didn’t have any means of finding an answer.

He had also been out on a few patrols on his own now. He pushed down the guilty feeling that rose in his chest when he ignored actual local crime, but this wasn’t his territory. He couldn’t just dive in and beat up local drug dealers. He didn’t know enough about how things worked here to be sure that he wouldn’t mess up some form of long term investigation. His focus was on trying to find any traces of Strange.

He’d returned to the tunnel where he’d first appeared in New York and found it devoid of any clues about why he’d been dropped off there of all places. Considering the throughness of the bats search, it was most likely just that Strange had messed up. The tech and the geography here was so different from Gotham’s that it wouldn’t be surprising if something here messed with his transporter. He’d had a look around Stark Industries and Oscorp. He tried not to be frustrated with the knowledge that if either company existed back in Gotham, Timothy Wayne could stroll up for a guided tour and meeting with the CEO, with some lie about looking at supporting whatever tech or chemical projects they were currently pursuing. Instead, he was limited to the general access areas. The first time he’d toured the Stark Vistors Centre it had been impressive, holograms of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts explaining the companies goals and how it was helping to build the future, with their current focus being clean energy. The robots and AI that were described on the plaques, even those created by Tony’s father decades ago, were beyond anything he’d ever seen before. The replicas of the Iron Man suits were so much sleeker than any of Batmans attempts at robotic armour and he longed to talk with Babs about how they could try and replicate something similar. However, after having to constantly duck into the centre to avoid the low sweeping bats, as there seemed to be more around Stark Tower than anywhere else, Tim would be thrilled to never hear the scripted banter between the two holograms ever again. As impressive as the mans achievements were, he couln’t get over having a dislike for Tony Stark. There was something about flaunting being a hero that rubbed him the wrong way. The idea of people posing with a Batman model in the lobby of Wayne Enterprises was just disgusting. Tony Stark presented himself as a hero of the world if the large section about his involvement in bringing everyone back from the Blip was anything to go by. He didn’t bother with the day to day troubles of ordinary people, but would instead show up when there was a large scale threat that needed blowing up. It also just felt so wrong how easy it was to find out information about Stark and his family - he lived just outside of the city in the ‘Stark Eco Compound’ with Pepper and their young daughter Morgan. If he had bad intentions, it wouldn’t take much to find out where Morgan went to school, what her route was. His own secret identity had hardly provided him and his loved ones with fool proof protection, but was Stark so arrogant that he believed his name and his weapons were enough to keep his little family safe?

The employee entrance for Stark was round the back of the building. It was fairly easy to watch the employees come and go, blending in with the families of tourists and school trips that constantly filled the area. Peter came and went fairly often, but always at very odd hours for an intern. He was still a high schooler so it made sense that he was often there after school, but he left after most other employees and normally in a rush. Once he’d even left with the current CEO Pepper Potts, talking very casually with her. Most of the Stark employees were dressed in standard business wear, at least business casual, but Peter would always comfortably stroll up in his jeans and hoodie, and sometimes he even tapped in his school friend. He’d probably got the internship through nepotism, but he didn’t really have the same energy of the lazy freeloaders that sometimes showed up at Wayne Enterprises to shadow their parents, or tried to mingle at Wayne Foundation events. Tim annoyingly found he had to be aware of when Peter was going in and out of the building because sometimes if he didn’t keep a decent distance, Peter would pause and look around, almost as though he could sense something odd in the area.

Oscorp was harder to get a feel for. A chemical and robotics firm didn’t feel the same need to have a tourist attraction explaining itself on the ground floor. The security team was relentless, chasing away anyone who tried to loiter. Thankfully there were the protests just a few blocks down who were more than happy to fill him in on all the latest theories. Despite Norman Osborns attempts to improve public opinion by commuting on the subway or shaking peoples hands, people were still angry about the unexplained powercuts centered around the tower. There hadn’t been one in a few days now, the power cuts and storms seemed to go hand in hand, but other than a few apologies, Osborn hadn’t shared any insight into what the company was working on that could plunge two miles of Manhatten into darkness. There were theories that the company was trying to devlelop their own clean energy source to compete with Starks Arc Reactor; they were trying to hack into all of the cities technology to spy on its citizens or that they were trying to create real life Frankensteins in the basement. He’d caught a brief glance of Harry and Norman Osborne heading into the office one of twice, escorted by many security guards from the nearest subway station. Norman would smile and wave, as Harry stormed on ahead with his hands shoved deeply into his pockets. He’d read a few interviews with Norman where he spoke about how he viewed Oscorp as a legacy, something that he could pass down through the generations. Harry did not seem eager to take up the role as head of the company, simply refusing to comment when any reporters asked him about his future plans.

If he wanted to get inside of Stark, Tim could probably just ‘bump into’ Peter on his way to his internship. Peter had always been eager to start conversations with him so far. Even if the tech he was used to seemed dated compared to what Stark was working on, he was sure that he could carry enough of a conversation to convince Peter to show him what he was working on. He didn’t seem the cautious or secretive sort. He didn’t know what sort of security Stark employed in the rest of his tower though, anything with facial recognition or fingerprints was bound to raise suspicion, or if he had to leave anything like contact details or an address.

Oscorp he would have to come back to. There was a chance that Peter or someone within Stark had connections that he could use.

—

Peter knew that he was in trouble as soon as he showed up to the tower and Happy was waiting for him in the lobby.

“Tony’s waiting for you upstairs.” He said, pressing the button for the elevator

“Did…Did he say why?” Peter asked, a million possible theories running through his head as to what he could be in trouble for now.

“I’m sure he’ll explain it.”

The plummetting in Peter’s stomach had nothing to do with the rapidly assending elevator.

He’d been stretched a little thin recently, but he was managing. Okay he hadn’t been showing up at Feast as often as he was meant to, and his patrols had been a little chaotic…And he hadn’t done as well as usual on a few tests….Or shown up to band practice a few times despite promising May he’d try and add some more ‘normal’ extra curriculars to his schedule…Then there was the recent increase in Bugle coverage and the bat problem but he was handling it!

“Take a seat Pete.” Tony said, gesturing to the chairs around the board room table. He couldn’t have chosen any of the lounges or offices, he had to have them sat around a table like this was some sort of awful formal meeting. It was like the worlds worst parent-teacher conference. Tony, Pepper, May, Happy...Doctor Strange and Wong…All sitting there looking displeased.

“Oh um…Hi…Doctor Strange…Sir…” Peter mumbled quietly. He hadn’t actually seen him since everything had started going back to normal.

“Peter, we saved half the universe together. I think we’re beyond you calling me Sir.” Strange said with a roll of his eyes

“Oh right…Hello, Steven.”

They both grimaced. That felt so wrong on so many levels.

“That feels weird but I’ll allow it…”

“So umm..What is this all about?” Peter asked, gesturing vaguely to essentially all of his guardians and two wizards.

“We think that the recent ‘Weather Problems’ are slightly beyond Spider-Mans juristiction.” Wong said simply

“So wait, you’ve come here to tell me to back off?” Peter asked, feeling more than a little annoyed. He and Ned were handling it! They hadn’t been able to pin down exactly what their scanner was scanning for, but he’d taken it on a few test runs now and it was definitely picking up Something! Wong and Doctor Strange may deal with the multiverse, but this was exclusively a Manhatten and Queens issue, it was his territory.

“Essentially, and to collect any information and technology that you’ve gathered.” Strange said. Peter looked to Tony for help

“And you’re okay with this? That’s not fair! Ned and I have been…”

“Attracting a lot of attention from the local press.” Tony sighed

“It’s the Bugle! No one reads the Bugle!”

“Peter…Someone is delibrately following your patrols. And they want you to know that you’re doing it. It’s only a matter of time before they find out and reveal your identity. We don’t know if they’re affiliated yet with whoever is causing the storms and the drones, but they might be trying to warn you to leave this alone.” Pepper said, her voice calm but firm “If you want to make your identity public, then we can arrange that. It’ll be better to do it on our own terms instead of some taboid scoop.”

“You know I don’t want to do that. I’m being careful!”

“Not careful enough…” Doctor Strange said “Kid this is looking like a multi-dimmensional problem. You can’t just stick it to a lampost and wait for the police to show up and deal with it.”

“Multi-dimmensional…?” Peter asked, his eyes widening. Maybe he and Ned had been a bit further off than they realised with the Weather Alien theory. Do not mention the Weather Alien to Doctor Strange. Do Not Mention The Weather Alien.

“How about we trade?” Doctor Strange asked, leaning forward “We tell you what we know, and you tell us what you know?”

Do. Not. Mention. The. Weather. Alien.

“That depends I guess…If we exchange information am I just…Of the case?”

“If you’re not getting in our way, I don’t think we really care what you do.” Strange said, looking at Wong

“You haven’t been helping or harming so far.” Wong confirmed

“I’m not sure I like the idea of you being involved in something like this…” May said “I thought that we were trying to keep things small scale for the moment? Friendly Neighbourhood?”

“I agree. Hand this one over to the grown ups.” Tony agreed, and Pepper nodded.

“Someones in my neighborhood!” Peter pointed out “Being ‘Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man” involves sorting that out!”

Turned out it didn't matter if you'd helped to save half the universe, everyone was still determined to treat him like a little kid.

“Being Peter Parker involves keeping certain promises and commitments.” May reminded him “I barely see you these days, I miss you.”

Okay that wasn’t fair. She couldn’t guilt trip him like that.

“I’ll work on that, but please, I really feel like we’re getting somewhere with this.” Peter pleaded

“This is your area, so I’ll let it be your call.” Tony said to Strange, giving him a very pointed look letting him know exactly what he wanted him to say. Strange met his eyes for a long moment.

“As I said, if he’s out the way, I don’t see any point us stopping him.”

May, Pepper and Tony slumped in defeat. Peter felt bad, but he felt worse about the idea of just handing this over to Doctor Strange to sort out. He wanted to prove to them that he could handle this.

“It looks like we’re working together again Steven.” He said, holding out his hand, glad that no one else would be able to hear the excited hammering of his heart

“Don't get ahead of yourself.” Doctor Strange muttered, but he shook Peter’s hand. “Now, what have you found so far?

Peter pulled up the footage of Masked Guy, the weird thermal camera quality that the bats had recognised him by. The thing in his arm. How since the bats had spotted and failed to pin down Masked Guy, the swoops had greatly increased. Especially around Manhatten. He had a prototype of the scanner they’ been working on but they still weren’t sure what the bats had recognised about Masked Guy, so it was hard to isolate what they were looking for. The weird energy that seemed to radiate off of him.

Wong and Strange looked at each other apprehensively.

“The storms themselves have been our focus. They aren’t magical, but create weak spots between our world and another.” Wong explained “This other world also seems to be experiancing the same storms, which implies that whoever is causing them on our side, has an accomplice on the other. They're creating a window between the two."

“We’d had a sense of someone coming through the barrier, but we weren’t sure if it was an accidental casualty or a delibrate journey. I suppose your ‘Masked Guy’ was brought over here intentionally, but from what you’ve seen, he doesn’t seem to be working with whoever is over here.” Strange said

“Ned and I were wondering whether he stole some tech or something, and that’s what was in his arm…” Peter suggested “He might of come here to try and escape the person on the other side

“The bat drones have been here before your Masked Friend stumbled onto the scene though.” Wong pointed out “It’s more likely that it’s been hard for the people creating the storms to communicate, and the person on our side wasn’t certain that Masked Guy had successfully made the trip. Now he knows he’s here, he’s focusing his energy upon finding him.”

“So we need to find him first and help him?”

“We need to find him first and send him back before he does some serious damage. He’s not meant to be here.” Strange scoffed

“And we need to find out who is weakening the barriers between worlds and how, so we can make sure they can’t do it again.”

“Can you look ahead to see us catching him and find out?” Peter asked Strange, who sighed

“No, I can’t. I don’t have the time stone anymore, remember? And this isn’t magic so it’s much harder for us to trace.”

"So what are you planning?" Tony crossed his arms "I can help the kid finish up his scanner project to move things along."

Strange waved his hand dismissively "Chasing his around the city is a waste of time and energy. He seems to know that storms are linked to how he got here. If we make our own contained storm, that should attract him to the area. It may also lure out the person creating the storms, who will be curious about the copycat."

Weather Wizard!

Peter jumped up to his feet

"Awesome, when do we get started?"

"I'm sure that he can handle it without someone sticky." Tony said, giving Strange another pointed look

"Wong and I will be focused upon the storm and gathering intel, Peter's skills are perfect for restraining our masked visitor. If that's alright with you?" Strange looked directly at May, who sighed

"Just get him home in one piece. Don't let him wander into any other dimensions."

"And watch out for photographers." Pepper warned

"Great, we're babysitting." Wong muttered

--

There weren't any power cuts that evening, as Tim watched the grey storm clouds begin to form over the East River. He had been waiting on a fire escape for Spider-Man to start his patrol, but the web slinger hadn't made an appearance yet. He supposed everyone had to have a night off sometimes. It was easier for the Bats because there were so many of them now, they could rotate their shifts. With the exception of Bruce. He was out every night that Alfred hadn't basically put him on lockdown.

Queens didn't look anything like Gotham. It was mostly rows of houses. The grid like structure of New York was convenient, but sterile. There was something special about Gotham with its bizarre mix of old and new buildings. Just down the street from a new shiny office block there would be a row of buildings that were as old as the city. The roofs and their gargoyles offered lots of nice nooks and cranny's for you to hide yourself and observe. However, the low houses of Queens were easier to jump between that sky scrapers when you didn't have the security of a grappling gun. Silver linings.

The run to the eye of the storm was looking like a very long way without his grappling gun. He'd definitely been slacking on maintaining regular meals, only eating in the mornings at the shelter. His body was feeling the effects, he'd forgotten how tired hunger made you. He'd have to try and pay more attention to that.

Now was not the time though. After a stretch he started making his way over to the storm, sure that somewhere Spider-Man was making the same journey a hundred times faster. He was so envious of his ability to just shoot webs at any surface and swing around. So much easier than having to aim a grapping gun and learn which ledges offered the best grip.

He went past the Queensboro bridge, jogging over the smaller Roosevelt Island bridge. There were less people than he had expected around, despite the late hour. Were they staying inside because of the storm? It was the quietest he had ever known New York to be, and it put him on edge. He stayed in the shadows, noting that the Thing in his arm wasn't responding to this storm at all. Something here was very wrong.

The centre of the storm seemed to be over the tip of the island, over the park and smallpox hospital. There were a few bats swooping around, but less than he'd expect for this sort of thing. And there was no sign of Spider-Man. He'd given up on photos for the night, zipping his camera up safely in his backpack, his staff extended in his hands. He stayed to the shadows, keeping an eye out for whoever was behind this.

He heard Spider-Man before he saw him. He tried to knock the projectile away with his staff, and ended up with a sticky blob of webbing.

"That had better come out, this is new." Tim called out. His eyes fixed on Spider-Man who was hanging casually from the hospital walls.

"Give it a few hours and it'll dissolve." Spider-Man promised. He tried to shoot another web and Tim dodged out of sight

"I guess the Bugle was right about your spider-weather powers then?"

"The Bugle's never right about anything. I'm just well connected." There was a pause "Hey you're not the one selling my pictures to them are you? Because thats not cool!"

Tim declined to comment on that. He'd known this was a trap. What an idiot. Now he was stuck in the spiders web. Spider-Man seemed quite happy to stay on the walls, out of his reach.

"I'm not looking for a fight. I don't have anything to do with these bats and storms."

"Well that's not totally true. You're not from here, are you? Like, not from this world."

It wasn't really a question. Tims heart pounded as he tried to work out how to get away from this. He'd never seen Spider-Man work with others, but he apparently had allies hidden in the surrounding area. Allies capable of controlling the weather and who knows what else.

"I'm not an alien." Tim said, to neither confirm or deny, leaping out of the way of some awful sort of web-grenade that was chucked in his direction, covering the surrounding area in its sticky trap.

"Yeah we know that much. Look, you want to get back to your own world right? We can help with that ."

Tim's staff took another bunch of webs, this time his fingers getting caught in the aftermath. It was harder to use his staff when he couldn't change his grip and he swore.

"I don't normally set traps and chuck stuff at people I'm trying to help."

"Yeah, well you haven't been super cooperative so far. You may not have noticed, but someone's kind of wearing away at the wall between realities. We're trying to make that not happen."

"Well you have the wrong guy!" Tim snapped. He couldn't run as fast as Spider-Man. He couldn't reach him. He couldn't even throw his staff now it was stuck to his arm. He wasn't fast enough for Spider-Mans next webs, which caught the heel of his shoe. As he fell, another web stuck his arm and staff to the ground. He frantically tried to pull himself out of the mess, as Spider-Man landed lightly in front of him

"Look this doesn't have to be..." he started, then his eyes looked up "Oh that's not good."

Tim turned his gaze to where Spider-Man was facing, and his breath caught in his throat. There were bats. Plenty of them. With their green gaze fixed upon him.

He started thrashing more

"Get me out of this!" Tim yelled at the masked hero who seemed to almost be in shock as a bat dived suddenly. Tim felt like he was playing the world's worst game of twister as he did his best to dodge, cemented to the floor from two limbs. Spider-Man had to have a failsafe for this right? He couldn't just leave him attached to the ground, completely helpless, for hours?

"Right, yes, right..." Spider-Man started fumbling for a small capsule from his waistband. He easily dodged the next bat, but Tim cried out as it went right for his stuck left arm, going easily through his hoodie and slicing the area underneath. It wasn't a deep cut, but still hurt.

Of course while Spider-Man was flailing around, things managed to get worse. His blood chilled when he heard a cackling laugh echo out the park. It wasn't a laugh he knew, but he'd met enough villains now to know a maniac when he heard one.

"Okay, I got it, this will dissolve the webs!" Spider-Man exclaimed, tipping a liquid over Tim's hand and foot "But don't use this as a chance to run off, we still need to speak to you."

The release from the webs wasn't instant, and another bat sliced past his side as he struggled to get free

"What the fuck is happening. Who is that?" Tim yelled, pointing in the direction of the laugh. Of the green man on a glider speeding towards them.

"That's...Green Goblin. He's not a friend of mine."

"I don't think he's one of mine either." Tim spat, flexing his fingers and adjusting his grip on the staff as he managed to get to his feet. "Does he have any powers I should know about?"

"Well theres the normal stuff like he's strong and fast. Mostly he throws bombs. He's got sort of a halloween theme going on."

"Fantastic."

"You're not slipping away from me this time Timothy Wayne!" Green Goblin laughed, aiming a bomb shaped like a pumpkin straight at Spider-Man who easily dodged and sent a web grenade in retaliation. He missed the actual glider, but caught some of the bats. Tims heart skipped a beat. It was bad enough when a villain in his own world knew who he was. But he didn't exist here. This Goblin shouldn't know who he is, mask or no mask.

"Is that you?" Spider-Man asked, as Tim managed to whack some of the approaching bats out of the air

"Can you focus on the flying guy who wants to kill us before we get to introductions?"

Tim managed to get a hit on the glider as it swooped, but it wasn't aiming for him with its blades. A green hand made a snatch at his hoodie, and he had to duck out of the way. Spider-Man sent some more webs in the goblins direction, jamming one of the engines and making it hang awkwardly to one side.

"Leave this alone bug!" Goblin screeched, sending another bomb in Spider-Mans direction as he made another swoop at Tim who swung his staff like a baseball bat. It buckled at the contact but managed to throw the lopsided glider off course.

"Doctor Strange, are you there?" Spider-Man yelled, and Tim stumbled, long enough for a bat to try and take out a chunk of his ankle.

"You're working with Strange?" Tim asked, fury building in his chest. How had he missed that of all things? He'd been following Spider-Man so closely, had been learning so much about his routines and his life. He'd never seen or heard anything related to Strange. Even if they weren't really a team, it had started to feel a bit like they were patrolling together. They were meant to be on the same side of this fight, weren't they? Unless this was all just to keep Tim busy until Strange made his appearance?

"I'm well connected, remember?" Spider-Man said, far too casually.

Tim needed to get out of here. The Thing in his arm was warm and vibrating now, almost painful with its heat. His blood was boiling as the glider made another swoop, the disgusting green hand reached out towards him. Tim dived at Spider-Man and the glider followed. All of them lost their balance as they tried to dodge at the last moment to avoid a collision, but Tim was on his feet first. He ran.

He heard them calling after him. Spider-Mans voice was panicked while Green Goblins was furious. He still had that awful laugh. Spider-Man couldn't swing out here in the open though, and the glider being down one engine had struggled to right itself after the close call. The bats swooped down like batarangs to the side of him, desperate to pin him in place. Tim ignored all of them. He ran in as straight a line as fast he could until he reached the edge of the island. Without stopping or looking back, he jumped over the wall and splashed down into the river.

Chapter Text

Barbara Gordon was beyond exhausted. The coffee pot next to her was empty, and she was contemplating if she even still had the energy to refill it.

“Everything alright Babs?” Nightwings voice came through comms, and she stifled a yawn

“With me or with Gotham? Because if you’re bored there’s plenty to do out there.”

“With you of course. I’m already on my way to the storm over the bowery.”

Benefits of experienced heroes, they had the initiative to go and investigate things on their own instead of needing to be told where to go and when to run away.

“I’m fine. Tired. But we all are.”

“God don’t I know it. When was the last time you slept?”

She wasn’t sure, she must of slept since Tim went missing. But these were power naps when her brain felt ready to give up, or random black outs that were quickly disrupted by chatter on comms.

It was another 4 hours until sunrise though, she couldn’t rest yet.

“I’ll get some sleep in the morning.” She promised

“I’m holding you to that. All the kids are off school at the moment, they can monitor things on the Batcomputer for a few hours during the day. It would do some of them good to deal with the less exciting parts of this.”

“The kids are still allowed to use the Batcomputer?”

It was meant as a light hearted comment. There had been an incident a few months ago where a Batcave movie night was attempted. Despite how sophisticated the Batcomputer was, it hadn’t appreciated having a whole bottle of soda spilled on it. Some of the keys were still sticky. Tim had been the one to rectify the worst of the damage, which was how he was the only one to escape being banned from patrol to do chores with Alfred.

She pinched at her head, forcing herself to wake up and stop thinking about Tim. The suits on display in the cave. The empty bedrooms in the manor.

Being down two members of the team was rough on all of them. Despite how…Difficult…Damian could be to deal with sometimes, he was undeniably an asset to the team. His stealth and skills were far above what any of the other Robins had at the same age. Tim was their guy with the plan. The one who could look at any situation and work out what to do. The voice of reason, especially amongst the more hot-headed and enthusiastic teens. She knew that they did things on their own sometimes without the ‘grown ups’ knowing, but Tim made sure that no one was harmed (Or caught…).

“All the rules are kind of weird right now.” Nightwing admitted “Alfred and I are doing our best to keep things normal but..Well. I don’t need to tell you what he’s like.”

“Oh Yes, I’ve got a pretty good idea.” Babs agreed, her eyes skimming over the brand new screen she’d had to set up, linked to the new ‘watches’ that everyone was now wearing, showing their vitals. Unfortunately, crime fighting meant that heart rates and breathing rates were always in the ‘strenuous activity’ zone and she was dealing with constant alerts that people needed to slow down and rest. She hadn’t been able to collect enough information about what the actual normal levels for each person were during patrol to adjust the settings yet. Hopefully the system wouldn’t be around long enough to actually need improvements.

Batman wasn’t talking on comms at the moment, but he’d still be there, listening. So neither of them could say much more.

"Oracle, we've completed the evacuation in the Diamond District. Batman and Orphan are taking down Firefly and we've handed the rest over to the emergency services. Where do you need us?" Steph's voice came through comms

"If you could scout around the sewers in Chinatown, that would be great. There's some mumblings that Killer Croc is in the area. Just remember..."

"Surveillance only unless directly told otherwise."

Someone above the city, Steph would be rolling her eyes.

"And..." Babs prompted

"Stay away from the storms. Stick with your buddy. If you see Hugo Strange, then run the opposite direction and call Batman."

"Got that Signal?" Babs asked

"Sewers and Croc. Stay away from bad weather. Stick with Spoiler. If you see Strange, run. Collect $200 when you pass go." Duke said, equally frustrated

"Well done. Now go and enjoy those sewers. Remember we're keeping an eye on you."

There was more frustrated mumbling before they switched channels, no doubt to complain, again, about the babysitting. They could mutter as much as they liked as long as they stuck to the rules.

"How's that storm looking Nightwing?"

"Wet. Cold. Not much else to say. It just seems like a patch of bad weather."

"And your signals still loud and clear..." Oracle muttered, noting it down on the map. Gotham's weather was always bad and unpredictable, which was how the earlier storms had slipped through the cracks. Only found later when searching weather reports after Tim's disappearance. If she'd noticed sooner...

But she hadn't. So now she had the map to log the storms locations and durations. Trying to track down a pattern to the weird ones that were comms dead zones. They’d been happening every couple of days over random areas of the city, but they hadn’t had any luck finding the cause yet. It was hard to find the time to focus on it, with two team members down. It felt like every villain in Gotham was taking the oppertunity to go on a crime spree.

"Can't see anything Strange either." Nightwing confirmed, answering her other question. The unspoken one.

"I never know if I'm sad or relieved to hear you say that..." She muttered, checking on the newly installed body cameras Steph, Signal and Orphan were wearing. The two in the sewer did seem to be behaving themselves as they trudged through the filthy waters. Orphan was under Batmans eye, so she wouldn't get getting up to any mischief.

"Nightwing, I'm just swapping channels for a sec. Shout if you need me." Oracle said, tuning into the only channel Batman did not currently have access to "Red Hood, any updates?"

"No one I spoke has seen him." Jason confirmed

“Do you need us to send anyone to…” She trailed off

“No. You don’t need to arrest anyone.”

The silence was heavy. It seemed to last far too long, but too soon Jason broke it.

“He knows that if I find Strange first, I’m killing him, doesn’t he?”

“Yes, he does.”

“Is he going to try and stop me?”

Babs eyes flicked over to Orphan’s body camera, showing Batman pummelling Firefly. He wasn’t using any long ranged attacks but diving head first into the fire, hitting at every inch of the arsonist that he could reach.

“I don’t know honestly…There’s still so many unknowns. We don’t know…”

If we’re looking for a body.

If he would still be the same once they found him.

She swallowed before continuing.

“Strange right now is the only one who knows where Tim is. We need him alive to answer questions.”

“Oh I’ll get answers.” Jason promised.

“Hood, if you ever need, anything, you know where to find me. I’m not taking sides here.”

“It’s sick. Why should any kid be more concerned with secret identities than his own safety?” Jason growled, not for the first time.

“If we’d known that this wasn’t just a kidnapping and ransom situation…” Babs started

“Why does that matter? Why should any kid be put in danger like that in the first place? He knows how to defend himself, but chose not to because he’s been taught that the most important thing is not letting anyone know the family secret? Strange already knew!”

“We’re all thinking the same thing, you’re preaching to the choir.” She muttered. Bruce’s knuckles had blood on them. Firefly was near unconciousness, beyond trying to fight back or flee. Bruce was thinking it. Another child lost because they’d worn the Robin costume. Tim was still slightly awkward with Bruce since Damian had taken over. Damian and Tim seemed to have accepted each other as brothers now, Tim doing well in his new role as Red Robin. But he was clearly still hurt about being replaced. Still trying to work out whether Bruce still needed him, or if he was just keeping him around out of obligation. Bruce, who despite his many talents had never quite discovered how to open up about his emotions, hadn’t been able to bridge the gap yet. Now he more than anyone was wondering if he would get the chance.

But it was bigger than just all of them as individuals. Tim understood that. He knew the consequences for your loved ones when someone found out who you were.

“I’m sorry for always ranting at you…” Jason mumbled

“It’s okay, I know it’s hard right now.”

It was hard for all of them. All trying to hard themselves together to support everyone else while stretched far too thin over a city that refused to give them a chance to grieve. An alert popped up on her main screen.

“Sorry Hood, I’ve got to change channels, Batman wants me. Shout if you need me.”

She didn’t wait for a reply, swapping back to the main channel.

“Firefly has been apprended. I’m dropping Orphan, Spoiler and Signal back at the cave.”

“Signal I understand, he already did a few hours of a day shift, but we really need…” She started

“I’m taking them back to the cave. Tell Spoiler and Signal to meet me back by the car in the Diamond District as soon as possible.”

“Great. Sure.” Babs muttered, having to mute herself to a moment to privately scream. They were already stretched so thin. No one was even out by the docks tonight or Amusmant Mile. Buddy systems, shorter shifts, the kids being banned from confrontation. She wanted everyone to be safe just as much as he did, but this wasn’t sustainable. Things were going to slip through. They were already slipping through. Petty crime in the last week was already up almost 40% compared to usual.

She switched over to Signal and Spoilers channel

“I’m never going to get this smell out of my suit…” Steph was muttering

“Good news kids, Bat says its bedtime. Meeting him back at the car in the Diamon District.”

“What, no!” Steph cried, her voice echoing around the sewer. Duke hushed her

“Oracle, seriously? We’re following a trail of claw marks here and…” He protested, much more quietly than Steph had. She was swearing in the background.

“Signal, take it up with the Bat yourself. I’m too tired to play messenger pigeon. He says meet him by the car, and if you don’t show up, he’s going to go looking for you.”

Please, she begged silently, don’t get grounded. Don’t give him any excuse to keep you all home.

“We’re on our way.” Signal replied, a bitter edge to his voice. She swapped back to the main channel to avoid their whining.

“Nightwing, do you have a totally selfish mission in you?” She asked quietly into comms.

He was there in under 10 minutes, with coffee, doughnuts and a shoulder to cry on. Hers was decaf.

“I’m sorry” She sobbed

“There’s no need to apologise, theres so much on your shoulders, supporting everyone…”

“You’re the same…” She muttered, wiping her nose on her sleeve. Dick passed her the box of tissues from her desk.

“The kids are going to be restless back at the manor, none of them are going to bed. Let them take over for the evening.”

“How long does Bruce expect us do to this for?”

“I don’t know…He’s not really talking to any of us right now…”

The frustration in his voice was evident. Babs reached to pull him gently down to her level, easing the domino mask off of his face. His bright blue eyes were so tired

“How are you?” She asked, holding his head between both of her palms. He gave a small, sad smile

“You want the honest answer?”

She nodded.

“I’m scared Babs. I’m scared we won’t find Tim. I’m scared that Bruce is going to shut all of us out completly. I’m scared that Jason is on a rampage. I’m scared of what Strange said about all the Robins coming out of Batmans shadow…”

“You’re worried that he’s going to come after you?”

“It’s not even that…” He sank down to the floor, resting his head against her legs and letting her lightly play with his hair “It’s just…Robin exists, because of me. I was the first. If it hadn’t been for me, there wouldn’t be any Robins for him to target like this. I know Bruce feels responsible because he chose me and trained me but…Robin will always be traced back to me. He’s mine. So if something happens to someone because they were Robin…”

“None of this is your fault.”

“I’ll never forget how horrified Tim was when I told him that I couldn’t be Robin anymore. If I’d tried then…”

“Are you sure he wasn’t just horrified by how low cut that disco-wing costume was?”

Dick smiled weakly

“That costume is a classic.”

“Oh of course. My apologies.”

“I showed a lot more skin as Robin…”

“That’s not something that you should brag about.” She teased, giving his hair a gentle tug.

They sat in silence for a moment, before Dick took her hand and softly started to stroke the back of it. His gloves were rough, but not unpleasant.

All too soon, the dark room was illuminated again, the bat signal projected onto the sky.

“I bet that’s Croc…” Babs groaned. If Signal and Spoiler hadn’t been pulled out while they were on his tail, then maybe they wouldn’t be having to clean up a disaster instead of preventing it.

“I should probably go check it out.” Dick said, giving her hand a kiss before returning it to her and getting to his feet. She reached for him again, gripping his wrist tightly

“Dick, be careful, okay?”

He popped his mask back into place and smiled at her

“Of course. Are you going to head to bed?”

“Not yet, but I promise I will once this is sorted. I need to end tonight on a win.”

He nodded, balanced on her window ledge

“I love you, take care of yourself.” He said, with one small, final wave, he was swinging back out into the night.

—

Steph was sat on the roof of Wayne Manor, knees pulled up to her chest and eyes fixed upon the Bat Signal in the sky. Bruce had hung around long enough to lock their suits away and ensured that they couldn’t get back into the cave without him knowing. Alfred had tried his best with hot chocolate and cookies to make it feel like they were coming back from a successful patrol, but none of them had any appetite.

She had only agreed to move into one of the manors many guest rooms because she thought she’d be able to be more involved.She’d envisioned them all working together to track down Strange and rescue Tim, keeping Gotham safe, ensuring that the citizens didn’t realise that anything was going wrong.

Instead she’d agreed to being under house arrest. Bruce had managed to get them all signed off school due to ‘stress’. Exams had been postponed. Life was on pause and none of them knew for how long. They were in an awful halfway point, unable to live either as themselves or their vigilante identities.

She felt, rather than heard, Cass climb up next to her.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steph asked quietly

“Too early.” Cass said, scowling up at the sky.

It was too early. They never used to go home to bed as soon as things started to go wrong. Now is there was more than a carjacking they seemed to end up back at the cave. Security around the manor was tighter than ever and Bruce had made it clear that anyone who tried to disobey orders would be benched permanently.

“It feels like he’s lost all faith in us.” Steph muttered “We were all there, and we couldn’t help, so now he doesn’t trust us to do anything. But if we’d all jumped in and blown our cover, he would still be mad at us for being immature and reckless.” Her fists balled up at the unfairness of it all. At least if they had jumped in, they might still have Tim.

“Tim said not to.”

Steph looked at Cass, who was refusing to look at her. She and Duke had been right there, forced to watch. The only ones who’d witnessed it. It was their obediance to Tim’s final order that had allowed Strange to escape. From Duke’s account, it had been really bad. Tims body essentially being pulled into a blender made of white light, his scream being cut off abruptly. At least it had been quick. The only hope they had was that Strange had said he wasn’t going to kill or harm him, and there hadn’t been any blood. The worlds most barbaric transporter.

“He was probably right. It you and Duke were taken as well…”

But Cass was shaking her head

“Not Robin.”

Strange wasn’t there to target them. He just wanted Tim, because he had fought by Batmans side as Robin.

Steph curled up tighter, burying her face in her knees.

Robin.

It always came back to Robin. Everyone always wanted Robin.

Damian had been sent away because he was Robin. Dick and Bruce had a massive fight in the Batcave when he was advised to leave Gotham as well for some time, until the threat from Strange was dealt with. The only reason he was still out on the streets was that he was now an adult with his own identity, Bruce didn’t have the same control over him now as he did the rest of them. She was sure he’d tried to contact Jason as well based upon the knife wound in his shoulder that Alfred had to patch up.

Steph had just been given the same instructions as Orphan and Signal however. She was Spoiler. Not Robin. Not anymore.

She’d never fully believed that she hadn’t been given the mask and cape just to bring Tim back.

Cass gave her a poke, concern in her eyes. Wondering what was wrong. Steph sighed and gave a weak smile.

“I’m not Robin either I guess.” She shrugged, then hid her face again. Disgusted with herself for being upset over something so petty. Tim was missing, maybe dead. The whole team was collapsing. Batman was losing it. And she was worried about a name she’d worn for barely three months before she’d been fired.

It was a good thing Strange hadn’t recognised her as Robin. It was a good thing that he hadn’t stormed the school looking for another victim. It was a good thing she hadn’t been sent away. It was a good thing….

Cass gave her a push, probably harder than she’d meant to, nearly topping Steph over.

“Stephanie Brown. My friend.” She said, her eyes fierce. The identity that mattered more than any other. Names and costumes could change but they were friends. They were family. That’s what mattered more than anything else.

Steph gave her eyes a wipe and smiled at her, adjusting her position to lean against her.

“Cassandra Cain. My best friend.”

They couldn’t keep up with how things were. Waiting anxiously for the grown ups to bring back news.

Steph leapt up to her feet, Cass watching

“I’ve got it Cass, Robin!”

“Damian in Metropolis…”

“No not him. Robin! I am Robin!” Steph shook her head, trying to unscramble her idea, try and get it across “Strange said that he’s after all the Robins, right? He said Robin is stuck in Batmans shadow. But we’re not! With Robin it’s never about cowering behind the Bat waiting to step into his great big boots, it’s about helping him not to be repressed muscle wrapped in kevlar. Robin reminds him who Batman is and why he fights! That’s why he needs Robin!”

“You’re Robin?” Cass asked, her head to one side. Steph paced, gathering her thoughts, her hair wild and eyes bright

“No! WE are going to be Robin. All of us. Duke must still have his contacts from when he lead the I am Robin movement. We need to show Strange and Batman that Robin is not someone you can send away, or a suit preserved in a cave.”

Cass looked at her with concern. Batman would definitely be against the idea. He’d try to stop them. Steph had to be prepared for the rejection, of his fury that she had disobeyed his orders.

Steph met her eyes and smiled. Her posture more assured than it had been in a long time.

“This is too important for us to just wait until it’s over. We can stick to some of Bruce’s rules, no one goes out alone. Regular check ins. Vary our patrol routes and have additional trackers hidden in our suits. But we need Robin’s on the street. If we’ve learnt anything this week, it’s that Batman can’t be everywhere at once. We need to be taking care of the petty crime and keeping eyes out, so he can focus on being Batman!”

“I am Robin.” Cass said, leaping up to her feet. A fresh determination in her eyes.

The two ran to Duke’s room. He startled when they burst in, but he hadn’t been asleep. Just staring at the ceiling.

“What’s happened? Is Tim…” He leapt to his feet, scrambling to grab his shoes

“No Duke, nothing like that. We just, need you to hear us out. I have an idea.”

“You scared the life out of me.” He said, but they all sat down on the floor

“So we all knows whats happening out there. Batmans falling to pieces and at this rate Gotham is going down with him. We need to get warm bodies out on the streets, reminding everyone that we’re looking out for them. Duke, are you still in contact with any of your friends from the Robin movement?

“Yeah…You’re trying to bring it back?” The concern in his face was obvious

“We are Robin.” Cass said, her eyes fixed upon him

“Don’t all of the Robins currently have like…A massive target on their backs? And you want to stick that on a bunch of kids?”

“I don’t think that it’s all the Robins. I think it’s all of the ones that are officially tied to Batman and Bruce Wayne. His little public family. If lots of well known vigilantes disappear at the same time all the Wayne Wards vanish, you don’t need to be the worlds greatest detective to get suspicious. Especially as we know he’s going to get worse if Strange manages to get hold of anyone else. It’s a double win of exposing who Batman is and taking him down. The longer we let Bruce keep us grounded and try to deal with this all on his own, the more people are going to get hurt and things will continue to spiral.”

Duke fiddled uncomfortably with the cuff of his sleeve.

“What are you basing that upon?”

“I was in the school when Strange took him. Those robot things, they got out of the corridors as soon as they had eyes on him. They weren’t interested in anyone else in that school, just Tim.”

“But Steph…You’re not…”

“I know!” She pointed at Duke “That look in your eye, the one that says ‘You weren’t really a Robin’, that’s what this is based upon. There’s a reason my old suit isn’t in a display case down in the cave and Tim’s is. He’s a Robin. Dick, Jason, Tim and Damian are Batman’s Robins.”

“I never said that you weren’t…!”

She shook her head “But you think it. Or you just forget. Whichever. That’s not what matters. When Batman lost Jason, Tim was the one to recognise that Batman needed a Robin to remind him of who he was. He’d want us to do the same thing for him now.”

“There’s no way that Batman will let us, and we can’t win against him. Especially not if we’re locked out of the cave…”

“I thought of that already. We won’t operate out of the cave. We’re going to take over the Belfry.”

Cass and Duke both looked at her stunned.

“You think that Batman won’t have his city safehouse locked down, especially once he finds out we’re disobeying direct orders?”

“Batman didn’t build the Belfry, not alone. Red Robin did.” Steph smiled “We all know that Bats have contingency plans against all of us and basically everyone else in his life. I think there’s a pretty high chance that Tim would have put something in place in the Belfry so we’d always have somewhere safe to go if Bats did ever go off the rails.”

“If we do this, we’re so fired. They’ll be even less heroes in Gotham…” Duke sighed, his face in his hands

“If we don’t, there might not be a Gotham anymore. You heard Babs on comms tonight, I’m pretty sure that she and Dick would back us up. We can’t let things go on like this. We have to step up.”

Duke groaned but Cass poked him. He met her eyes.

“We are Robin.” She repeated, taking his hand.

We are the ones who remind him what he is fighting for. We are the ones who make sure that he doesn’t get lost in the dark.

“Alright. I’m in. But I want to make sure that we can actually get into the Belfry before we start sending kids out.”

“That’s fair enough.” Steph grinned

—

Bruce woke with a start at the batcomputer, an intense dread in his stomach. Something was incredibly wrong. His eyes flicked over to the map of Gotham with everyones trackers. Babs at the Clock Tower Dick was in Downtown Gotham. Jason was in Crime Alley. Stephanie, Duke and Cass were gone.

“Alfred!” He yelled, scrambling to find their last known locations, and surveillance footage or clues to their movements.

He had to breathe. He couldn’t panic. Panicking meant that you made mistakes.

“Yes Master Bruce?” Alfred was there in a moment, his eyes flicked calmly to the screen “Ah…I see that they managed to disable their trackers.”

“What do you know? Are they safe?” Bruce pressed, his heart was hammering. Alfred was far too calm. Three members of his family, the young ones under his protection, were missing. If something had happened to them because he fell asleep, he’d never forgive himself.

“There was a lot of whispering in Master Dukes bedroom last night when they returned from patrol, I suspected that they were up to something.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was a little preoccupied attending to the second degree burns that you obtained fighting Firefly.”

Bruce glared at Alfred. Unfortunately, Alfred had faced that same glare many times over the last few decades. He was one of the few who would never cower before it.

“Fine, say your piece. You think I’m creating problems again.”

“I think that you are withdrawing, as you are prone to do. Ever since Master Timothy was taken, you have refused to work with any of your allies. It has left you, and Gotham, vulnerble.”

“I’m trying to protect them.”

“You’re making them feel undervalued. Every one of them is just as worried about Master Timothy as you are, they all want to assist you in bringing him back. They want to protect this city, and if you won’t let them, then they will find other means to do so.” Alfred cocked his eyebrow “You really think that a group of teenagers who dress up in costumes to fight criminals on a regular basis, will be happy staying home when their team is threatened? When one of their own is taken right before their eyes?”

Bruce clenched his fists. Of course none of them would stay home and let him take care of things. They’d all lost too many people. His own journey had started when he had to watch the ones he love be stolen right in front of him, while he’d watched helplessly. He was proud that all of them had maintained their cover and waited for him and Nightwing to arrive at the school. The maturity that they had shown was the reason he had allowed them to continue patrolling, even in a limited capacity.

That would be ending now of course.

“At least they’re alive. At least we know where they are.”

“Do you know where they are?”

Bruce swung his chair back round to the batcomputer, popping his comm back in his ear. It must have slipped out in his sleep.

“Barbara, when did you last hear from Cass, Steph and Duke? Do you have a current location?”

“Good morning to you to Bruce.” Babs yawned “I last heard from them around the same time the Belfry went offline. Duke was telling me not to worry about it, and they would reconnect to the Clock Tower once they were certain communication with the Batcave was terminated. That was around 45 minutes ago, so they’ll probably be back online soon.”

“And you didn’t think that this was worth mentioning to me?”

“I thought that I’d give them a headstart. Dick’s in the area keeping an eye on them anyway.”

“Dick is out there alone, while the Belfry is down?” He was yelling now, storming over to the batmobile. Thankfully he’d never changed out of his suit.

“Master Bruce, it is 10 in the morning, do you not think that the Batmobile driving at full speed into Downtown Gotham in broad daylight might cause some alarm?” Alfred called from across the cave. Bruce halted.

“And what would you suggest Alfred? That after Strange has already taken one member of our family in broad daylight, I let him take another?”

“Of course not. However, Bruce Wayne arriving at Old Wayne tower would be far less conspicuous.”

“Bruce Wayne is limited in how he can protect them.”

“They are far more likely to listen to a concerned Bruce Wayne than an Angry Batman.”

“Bruce, Dick isn’t alone. He’s still in touch with the three of them and me. If I ever suspected that any of them were in danger, I would have contacted you.” Babs tried to reassure him

“Why won’t any of you let me protect you?” Bruce roared, turning back to Alfred “Why don’t any of you see the danger that you’re in?”

“Why can’t you see the danger that you are putting yourself in? Why do you continue to ignore the advice and input from those around you?”

“And what do you advise that I do?”

“Go there as Bruce, and listen to them. Actually listen. Stop looking for ways to keep them safe, and find ways to let them help.” Alfred was walking towards him “Jason is already working on his own, Damian is in Metropolis. Don’t let this family become any more divided.”

“And if they get hurt because I sent them out there?”

“Then the blame is upon the ones who hurt them. Not you. But if you are the one who sent them out there, at least you know where they are, and will be able to help. None of you will be wasting time and resources playing hide and seek across the city.”

“Strange wants you to be paranoid and isolated, that’s why he publically went after Red Robin and threatened the others. You need to prove to him that he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does.” Babs chimed in

“He’s going to go after the others. Dick, Jason and Damian. It’s only a matter of time…”

“We have a better idea now of what we’re looking for. It won’t be easy for him to get another surprise attack in.”

Bruce’s eyes drifted to the Red Robin suit in it’s case, then further down to the origional Robin costume. It looked so small. They had all been so small.

Tim Drake had been barely 13 when he wore it for the first time. Stipped of his mask, surrounded by rubble, he confronted Batman. Forcing him to listen. Something no one else had been able to do.

Batman needs a Robin. No matter what he thinks he wants.

He’d warned him. What I do is dangerous.

Tim hadn’t flinched. He’d looked him straight in the eyes. I know. And that is exactly why you need me.

“Have I been a complete fool?” Bruce asked Alfred

“Yes, you have. But it is not too late to apologise and make amends. Go to them now, and sort this out.”

—

Bruce Wayne was not used to feeling vulnerble. As he approached the secret entrance to the Belfry from his office at Wayne Enterprises, he wished he’d been surprised that it denied him access.

“Babs, are they all still safe in there?”

“Yes Bruce, they noticed you arrive. They weren’t expecting you to knock on the front door.”

“Will you ask them to open it for me?”

There was a couple of minutes of silence. He could imagine them all on the other side, debating whether to let him in. The idea that they might decide not to made his chest tighten. He breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally slid open and he was able to step inside.

It was quiet. He couldn’t see any of them to begin with, but he could feel their eyes upon him. He tried to keep his pace even, his posture relaxed, as he crossed the large, empty circular room. Underneath the Justice bell that the tower housed. Up to the large window that overlooked Gotham, where he’d spoken with Tim before they’d repurposed it into a safehouse out of an old Court of Owls base.

I know I’ll fail, from time to time, to see that big picture. To see what we’re fighting for. I’ll forget to trust. I’ll forget to reach out…

When those moments come, Bruce, I’ll be here. Right by your side.

He heard three sets of footsteps from behind him. Tim was not right by his side. He turned. The teenagers were not wearing their usual uniforms of yellow, black and purple. Each one stood tall in their own green, yellow and red. A bold R on their chests.

Duke’s smile was nervous. Stephanie held back. But Cass was the first one to run up to him, to hug him.

When was the last time he had hugged any of his children?

He pulled her close, feeling her safe against him.

“I am very sorry for how I’ve been acting.” He said, burying his face in her soft, dark hair. She pushed him away slightly, to look at the others, to bring them over. They rushed him and he held all three of them in his arms. When had they all grown so much? He could barely reach his own finger tips around them. “I’m so sorry.” He repeated. He could feel Steph crying softly. Reluctantly, he unwrapped his arms from all of them, removing her mask so her could wipe her eyes. It was harder than he’d expected to see her back in that costume.

“Despite what he thinks he wants, Batman needs a Robin.” She said. Despite her tears, her gaze was fierce. Determined. But it flicked down the mask in his hands anxiously. He turned it between his fingers.

“This isn’t going to end like last time.” He promised, handing it back gently. She nodded.

“I’ll make sure to follow your orders.”

He gave a slight smile that didn’t reach his eyes

“I appreciate that, even if I’m not sure I can believe it based upon current circumstances.” He gestured to the Belfry, and they all looked vaguely sheepish. “But that’s not what I meant, Stephanie. I’m going to trust your judgement this time. If all of you are willing to give me another chance, I would like us to work together again. As a real team.”

They all looked at each other, but this conversation must have taken place while he was on the other side of the door.

“Batman needs a Robin, and Robin needs Batman.” Stephanie said, holding out her hand.

He shook hands with each of them, then glanced back around the Belfry

“Now we’re all working together again, would you like to fill me in on why you have stolen my safehouse?”

Chapter Text

As Tony would say, Peter had 'Screwed the Pooch'. He watched the shadow of 'Timothy Wayne' go over the barrier and heard him splash into the river below.

His mini mission of 'restrain Masked Guy' was a bust. Not only had he glued the guy to the floor to basically have knives thrown at him (Brilliant way to make friends...) but he'd also let the guy go without talking to him.

Which meant that it was extra important that he didn't let Green Goblin get away.

He pulled on the web he had attached to the glider, trying to reel it in.

"Stay away from this Spider-Brat." Goblin growled. He chucked a small bomb in Peter’s direction as a distraction and began fiddling with some sort of control panel on his arm. Peter managed to dodge, but at the cost of releasing some slack into his line. Goblin used the opportunity to try and pull him off balance, but Peter stuck his feet to the ground.

"No way...We need to have a chat..." He anchored the web to the ground, adding a few more lines for good measure. Goblin chucked another bomb in his direction that he dodged, but he couldn’t let this fight drag out with just long ranged attacks. He needed to chase after ‘Timothy’ and check that he was alright.

He felt the air around him change. The storm had been in the background of his senses up until now, the few seconds of warning before a roll of thunder or flash of lightning. He could feel the shift as the wall between worlds thinned. It was an odd sensation, suffocating, like a room that was being heated artificially but didn’t have any ventilation. A static feeling as though an electric current was in the air around him. It was harder to breathe than usual, the air thin as though he was far too high up for comfort. His ears were ringing, making it harder to think.

"Doctor Strange?" He called out again "I think something bad is happening!"

"I noticed Spider-Man." Strange called "We're dealing with it! Just stop that Goblin!"

"On it!"

He charged at the glider, thankfully taking Green Goblin by surprise and landing a solid hit to his face. The good thing about fighting Green Goblin was that he didn’t have to hold his punches as much as he normally did. The bad thing was that Goblin could hit back just as hard. It was only due to his natural stickiness that Peter managed to maintain his balance. The glider really wasn’t designed for two people to fight on, especially down one engine. It rocked dangerously.

The storm felt like it was suffocating him, pressing in far too close. His spider-sense was anxious, like he had been the first time he’d stood on the edge of a building, preparing to jump. Not quite trusting that he would survive the fall.

He aimed another punch at Goblin, hoping to knock him off the glider this time, but his hit didn’t make contact. It passed right through him. The pain in his arm as it passed through Goblin’s form though was unbelievable. It was like he’d shoved his arm into the garbage disposal, like maggots were writhing under his skin, animals biting into his flesh and tearing…Everything being torn apart from all directions…

He fell, unable to stop the scream of fear and pain. He curled himself protectively around his arm. He forced himself to look at it, convinced it would be gone, or at least in pieces. The fact that it wasn’t hurting anymore implied deep nerve damage. However, he couldn’t see any visible in juries. He carefully flexed his fingers, moving his arm. There was no pain now. It was all intact. That almost made him more nervous. How could it have hurt that much, and be fine as soon as he managed to get his arm out? He wasn't keen to take another swing at Goblin and see if it hurt again.

“Spider-Man?” Strange called, his voice filled with concern. Peter could hear him coming over in a hurry. Wong must still be hidden, trying to control the storm, which was growing larger and more aggressive by the minute. He tried to get himself together. He had to get it together. This was still a battlefield.

He scanned for Goblin; he’d managed to slice his glider free of the webs that anchored him. He was going to get away. Peter went to run at him again, only for Strange’s cape to grab him and yank him back.

Strange looked furious, as he sent out a line of his own to try and secure Goblin, but his attack passed through as well.

Goblin laughed, sounding both pleased and surprised at this development. Strange barely paused before sending another spell his way, but it went right through him, crashing into a tree behind. The trunk buckled, the spell leaving a charred hole.

“What’s happening?" Peter asked, struggling to free himself from the fabric that seemed to have decided its entire purpose now was to restrain him. Strange against Green Goblin should be a quick fight. If his attacks weren't working, that was really bad news.

Strange aimed at the glider, which fell and burst into flames. At the same time, Goblin seemed to be hit by a bolt of lightning, a pillar of light surrounding his body. Peter could only watch in horror as he seemed to be flipped from the inside out and shredded into pieces. Being dusted almost seemed merciful in comparison.

Then he was gone.

“Doctor Strange, what happened?” Peter repeated, still struggling to get out of the cloak. Strange turned to him, the anger still deeply carved into his face as he began casting another spell.

“I’m sending you to the Sanctum. Wong and I will finish here, then I need to look you over to see if there are any side effects. Wait there for me, and don’t touch anything.” A portal opened up behind Peter, who struggled more desperately.

“Wait! No, I can help! I need to go after…”

“Oh and if you could hold off on contacting Stark until I come back, that would be great.” Strange said, as the cloak pulled Peter backwards through the portal.

Going through portals was always disorienting but this felt worse than usual. It was like going from a sauna to an ice bath, the sudden change in atmosphere from the storm to the normal coolness of the sanctum. At least the cloak finally released him, fluttering off to who knows where. He wasn’t sure how long he had until Strange showed up, or if he should expect Tony Stark to burst in through the ceiling.

“Hey Karen, is Tony listening in?”

“Hello Peter, yes Mr Stark has been observing. He currently looks very unhappy.”

Peter rolled his eyes

“Awesome. He’s not on his way is he?”

“No, Mr Stark is still at the eco-compound.”

“Kid, do you need me there?” Tony’s voice came in through comms

“No! I’m totally fine!” Peter sat himself on the staircase, staring at the door. Knowing Doctor Strange, if he did try and walk out, some portal would send him to a mystery dungeon somewhere in the sanctum. He wished he hadn’t left his backpack, with his phone in it, webbed to the smallpox hospital. Going back for it was going to be annoying.

“All vital signs are showing as normal.” Karen confirmed

“I don’t like that the wizard told you not to contact me. I thought that all this extra-dimensional stuff was meant to be his area of expertise. From what I saw, it didn’t look like he had it under control.”

“Karen, do you know anything about a Timothy Wayne?” Peter asked, trying to avoid getting caught in whatever weird custody battle Tony and Strange seemed about to get into. Tony was meant to be retired; he didn’t really need to weigh in on all of this. It was also just kind of embarrassing to know that Tony had basically watched him be totally useless. He was meant to be proving that he didn’t need all of the babysitting.

“I was unable to find anyone with that name who is a match for your masked friend.” Karen said, and Peter sighed.

“Awesome...”

Timothy hadn’t known Green Goblin on sight, but Green Goblin had known him. Timothy had seemed to recognise the name Doctor Strange, but he’d panicked at the sound of it. So the Doctor Strange in his own world was evil and the one who sent him here? But that didn’t add up because Doctor Strange had said that it wasn’t magic that had brought this person over. He also couldn’t imagine Doctor Strange in any world messing up by sending someone to a random place around the city and letting him roam around on his own.

It was extra weird just having no idea why Green Goblin would want someone like Timothy. The guy could hold his own in a fight, but he didn’t seem to have any other noticeable powers. He had better reflexes than average but had been no match for Peter. There didn’t seem anything interesting enough about him to justify dragging him here.

Then again, no normal persons first instinct in another world is to put on a mask and stalk superheroes. And no normal person could successfully trail Spider-Man without him knowing.

“How long do you think Strange is going to be? I could be at the Sanctum in about half an hour for whatever debrief he has planned. What did he mean about side effects?”

“You don’t need to come, I’m fine.” Peter muttered “I thought you were watching what was going on?”

“All communication cut out shortly after Goblin arrived. It only came back when you arrived at the Sanctum. Strange wouldn’t know anything about that would he?”

“It was probably disrupted by the storm…”

“This is my tech we’re talking about, and you think it malfunctioned because of the weather? Peter, you wound me.”

“No, not Strange’s storm. Green Goblin caused one of the real ones, the weird ones, when we were there. It always makes everything feel all weird and messes with communications. You’re just not always watching live to notice it.”

“You noticed that these storms cut off your communication links to call for back up, and never mentioned it?” Tony asked, his voice cold

Oops.

“It’s fine! It’s just been the bats in the storms up until now. I’ve been evacuating people just in case but nothings been happening.”

“Until today.”

“Strange was there! Nothing happened!”

“This time. We’ll need to look at fixing that.”

Peter pulled off his mask. It wouldn’t stop Tony talking or listening in, and he’d probably pay for it later, but he needed to stop listening to Overbearing Parenting Talk for a bit.

He wished it had been Ned on the other end of the line. He couldn’t update him until he was certain that no one else was listening in, which meant tomorrow at school.

He was meant to hand in his Great Gatsby essay by 4th period and he still hadn’t finished the draft. He’d have to rush it when he got back or during lunch.

Normally he’d be so excited to here, in the Sanctum Sanctorum, he’d never had reason to visit before. But now he just felt restless. He probably couldn’t find Timothy tonight, he had too much of a head start and had already proven himself at being skilled at avoiding detection when he didn’t want to be found. But he could at least have a look around and make sure that Green Goblin hadn’t found him.

He dozed off at some point waiting for Strange, and awoke with a start at the sound of portal opening. Strange and Wong both looked increasingly unhappy.

“Did you find anything?” Peter asked, scrambling to his feet. Wong walked right past him and up the staircase

“Strange, you can play 20 questions.” Wong called, and a loud yawn echoed around the hallway.

“Thanks.” Strange muttered, but he looked Peter up and down “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, did you find Green Goblin or Timothy?”

“Timothy?”

“That’s what Green Goblin called Masked Guy. Timothy Wayne.”

“So we’re on a first name basis with the guy now?”

“Well we can’t call him Masked Guy forever. Anyway having a mask is more my thing. But if you wanted to wear one, it would probably look cool with your cape…”

“Cloak of Levitation.” Doctor Strange corrected “And no, I don’t feel the need to play dress up when I go out to work. I was unable to trace Green Goblin, but we didn’t find any bodies in the river so I suppose that ‘Timothyhy’ managed to get away. Despite someone insisting that he’d be able to restrain him for questioning.”

“I couldn’t leave him stuck to the ground to be stabbed by bat-knife-drone things!”

“But you didn’t have to let him get away.”

“I didn’t mean to…” Peter mumbled, looking away. He hated that this was now his fault. It wasn’t as if Strange had managed to catch him either.

Strange gestured for Peter to follow him to what looked like a rather dark and uncomfortably living room, and had him sit down in a tall backed armchair.

“Which arm did you use to punch Green Goblin, and what exactly happened?” Strange asked, pulling another chair close.

Peter held out his right arm and Strange took hold of it. Whatever spell he was casting tickled slightly and surrounded his arm in a yellow glow.

“The first time I punched him, it felt normal. But then it was like…my arm passed through him, and it really hurt. I can take a hit, like, it takes a lot for something to hurt but this like… really hurt. Like he was ripping my arm to pieces. But it’s totally fine now. It stopped hurting as soon as I fell.”

Strange hummed in acknowledgement, turning Peters hand over

“Are you able to take the suit off so I can see underneath?”

“Well umm…I don’t have any spare clothes with me…” Peter blushed “They were in my backpack which is back at the island.”

“I just need to see your arm.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just I can’t exactly…Roll my sleeves up…”

Strange sighed, but stepped out through a portal then returned a few seconds later with Peters backpack, still mostly covered in webbing. He left the room as Peter quickly changed out of the suit and back into his jeans and t-shirt. It had a triangle sweating and wearing sunglasses on the front, with a speech bubble saying ‘It feels like 180 degrees out here!’. If Strange got the joke, it didn’t make him smile when he came back into the room and looked at Peter’s arm again.

“Why do you think our attacks weren’t working?” Peter asked, for what felt like the millionth time. Getting any answers was like pulling teeth.

“He wasn’t fully in our world at the time. If you think again about there being ‘walls’ between worlds, he was in the walls. That’s not a space anyone is meant to exist. If you had fallen through fully, you would have been destroyed. You wouldn’t leave behind a body for us to bury.”

Peter really hoped that Tony wasn’t still listening.

“Is that what happened to Green Goblin then, with the light and everything…?” He asked, swallowing. Remembering the way he’d been ripped apart was awful. It seemed like an horrible way to die.

“No…He has some sort of anchor between his body and this world. That’s how he managed to avoid being destroyed or lost. It would have hurt a lot, travelling that way, which is why he probably only tried it once he realised that I was there. I doubt that he could maintain balancing between the worlds for very long, and wanted to make sure that we couldn’t follow him that way.”

“So you weren’t able to find out where he went?”

“No. I can’t follow him the way he came. Not without risking damage to the worlds on either side. If I’d forced my way in there, it might have made a hole right through them. It’s just luck that’s stopped him from doing that so far.”

“So are you checking that my arm didn’t cause any damage? Or it didn’t damage me?”

“No. I was essentially dusting for prints. Seeing if I could find anything out about the dimmension on the other side. Nothing stands out though.” Strange ceased his spell casting, and Peter rubbed his arm. It didn’t feel bad or anything, just a bit weird. He hesitated before asking his next question.

“When you find Timothy, do you think you’ll be able to send him home, or will he anchored here as well?”

“If he has an anchor here, we’ll break that link and send him back as soon as possible.”

“What if it was like…Something physical? Attached to his body though? Rather than something magical?”

“Then we’d remove it.”

Strange didn’t hesitate, but it made Peter feel sick. He hadn’t had a chance to closely examine the thing on Timothy’s arm, the one that the bats had identified, but he’d gotten a closer look at Green Goblins. His was more of a control panel rather than just a round shape, but it looked like part of him, merged with his skin rather than simply a device on his forearm. Timothy had been dragged through to another universe, likely feeling that same pain of being ripped apart, against his will, and there was a chance that Strange could cut his arm off to make sending him back easier.

Timothy might be okay with those terms, if someone told him to give up his arm or never go home again, he probably would choose the first option.

But he didn’t like the idea that Timothy might not get a say in it. He didn’t like the idea of it as anything other than the final option. Maybe Timothy already suspected that this would be Strange’s plan, and that’s why he was so keen to avoid him.

“Do you have a plan for finding him or Green Goblin?”

“I’m working on it. We’ll find them both sooner or later. Now do you need anything else, or are ready to leave me in peace?”

“Can you like…Make a portal to my apartment?” Peter asked sheepishly “I’m already changed out of my suit so swinging would be a pain and it’ll take me like, an hour to get home otherwise…”

—

It hadn’t been hard for Tim to break into the martial arts gym. The windows for the changing rooms had been left open for ventilation and no one had set the alarm system when they locked up. He felt a little bad, but David had said he could come by if he wanted a shower, and he needed more than that right now.

To his relief, the gym had laundry facilities. Everything he owned smelt of river and he was cold. He felt far too vulnerble stripping down to put his clothes on for a quick wash cycle, but it had to be done. His next step was standing under the warm water of the shower, taking in the cuts that the bats had left in his skin. They were deeper than he’d initially realised. He trailed his fingers over the one on his side, it was maybe four inches long. It was probably going to leave him with another scar. His body was covered in them. One more wasn’t anything to worry about. There was the scar in his neck from when he’d been shot by one of Penguins goons. The scars from the shattered glass from one of the first times that Damian had tried to kill him. The scars from when Jason had tried to kill him. The long one down the front of his torso where Ra’s al Ghul had taken out his spleen…

It was the lack of spleen that had forced him to drudge into the drug store while still damp with river water. The guy at the counter had made some comment under his breath about having to clean the floors, but Tim couldn’t find itself in him to care. The guy had accepted the bills that he’d had to peel apart from his sodden wallet. He’d probably decided that the guy who was covered in blood and river water, trying to stock up on all your basic first aid necessities, probably wasn’t worth the hassle of confronting.

Alfred and Bruce would definitely be unimpressed that he’d basically washed fresh wounds with gross dirty river water. They’d both been especially cautious of him since they found out he was sans-spleen. Any sign of a temprature was cause for concern, all wounds had to be disclosed and attended to by Alfred, he’d had to have additional vaccines and they kept a large supply of antibiotics on hand.

He was cleaning and dressing the wounds properly now though, which counted for something.

He swapped his clothes over to the dryer, going through the motions. He was so tired.

But he couldn’t rest here.

It was past curfew for the shelter, and even if he could go there, he wasn’t sure he felt safe doing so.

Green Goblin had known his name.

Even using a fake name at the shelter, Green Goblin could go looking for him. He might be searching homeless shelters right now. It wasn’t safe to keep returning somewhere with so many people and that forced him to keep a regular routine, forced him to create a paper trail of documents with his case worker meetings.

His bag was in the dryer with his clothes, but he laid out the rest of his belongings. His phone would still work after it’s dip in the water, but it hadn’t had battery for a few days now. If he ever got home, he was going to make sure he always had a charging cable in his pockets. Just in case. The money in his wallet would be fine once it dried. The leather wallet was never going to look the same again, but it could still carry out its purpose. His bo staff wasn’t looking so shiny and new now, but maybe that was a good thing. It showed he was experianced.

His camera was probably dead. Regardless, he removed the batteries and memory card. He tried to flush out the river dirt with isopropyl alcohol that he’d bought at the drug store, but honestly if it stood any hope, it needed to dry for a few days, and he didn’t have somewhere safe and dry to keep it. He removed the worst of the moisture with a t-shirt from the Lost and Found. He’d just have to hope for the best.

The last thing he looked over was his watch.

It had been a gift from his father. His real father, Jack Drake, on his 13th birthday. That had been the last normal birthday. Before the Obeah Man had killed his mother and put his father into a coma. It was probably one of the only birthdays that they had both been home for.

“You can tell a lot about a man from the shoes he’s wearing and the watch he has on.” Jack had said with a wide smile. At the time, he’d probably been more impressed with himself for buying the expensive time piece than he was excited to give it to his son. It hadn’t even fit comfortably around Tim’s thin wrists at the time. The gold watch face had been too large, the leather strap too long. Even after they had the strap changed, it looked wrong. It needed to be wound every few days. It had been a nuisance.

But every time he escorted his parents to the airport, the docks or even the end of the drive for their next trip, the last thing his father would do was shake his hand, and smile down at that watch.

Jack Drake liked what Tim’s watch told the world.

He’d stopped wearing it at some point when his father was in the coma. Bruce had offered to buy him another watch, one he’d chosen for himself. But he had declined and had kept the watch wound, tucked up safely in its box in his desk. When they had lost Drake Manor and the fortune, he’d kept the watch.

He’d worn it again for the first time at his fathers funeral. He’d worn it every day since, only taking it off for patrol.

It didn’t seem like it hadn’t taken kindly to it’s swim. There was moisture under the glass forming condensation, making it harder to see the face. The second hand was lifeless inbetween the two and three.

Even if he was back home, he’d probably need an experianced watchmaker to repair it. He couldn’t afford that here. How could he explain that the watch wasn’t stolen if anyone started asking questions? The warranty card was safely tucked in a folder back at the manor with all his other important documents. The longer it sat with moisture inside of it, the less chance that it could be saved.

He was saved from crying by the beep of the dryer. He kept his hands busy repacking his bag. Dressing in warm dry clothes. Tying the laces of his worn, second hand shoes.

Old shoes. An expensive broken watch. Items that told the world that he’d been someone once, someone who owned and appreciated nice things and had now lost everything.

He set the gyms alarm system before he crept back out of the window.

He spent the rest of the night riding the subway. Not quite awake and not quite asleep, eyes glazed over and staring into space. Whenever he’d jolt back into conciousness, he’d swap trains and repeat. He needed to come up with a plan for where he was going to sleep. What he was going to eat. How he could earn money now that his camera was gone and he couldn’t go anywhere near Spider-Man.

But he was just so tired.

—

Peter rushed up to Ned when he saw him at his locker

“We need to talk, urgently.” He said. Ned slammed his locker shut and followed him into an empty classroom. They’d be skipping homeroom today.

“Is this about last night?” Ned whispered, his eyes bright. Peter nodded. He filled Ned in on the basics about the fight, how Green Goblin was the one making the portals from their side, the pain when he’d tried to punch him and everything Strange had told him about how Goblin was travelling between the walls.

“And, I think I know who masked guy is.” Peter said softly “I’m pretty sure I know him. There’s this guy, Tim. Black hair, blue eyes and weird vibes. I’ve bumped into him around the city like twice now. He said he was here for a field trip but he’s been alone both times I saw him. Last night, when Green Goblin showed up, that didn’t really seem to phase him. Like some green dude on a glider wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d ever seen, but when he said his name…That spooked him. It was like when I was in the car with Liz’s dad, he had that same look on his face.”

“So you think he’s a superhero with a secret identity?” Ned’s eyes were bright. The idea that Masked Guy was potentially a hero from another world was incredibly cool.

“Yes! And I don’t think Tony and Stephen would get that, they’ve never needed to have a secret identity. But with the photos as well. Pepper was saying that the person taking them probably wanted to expose my identity or let me know that they were watching, but I’m like 90% sure that it’s Tim. The only reason I spotted him yesterday was that I was really looking for him, I didn’t even know he was following me before. If he’d really wanted to expose me, he probably could of. But he didn’t, because I think he’d be upset if someone revealed his identity like that.”

“But why was he selling them to the Bugle if he wanted to keep your identity secret? He made you look pretty bad, I’ve had to monitor the twitter comments way more closely.”

Peter shrugged “Jamerson pays. I’ve considered selling him photos a few times. Even if you’re dragged to another dimmension, you need to eat.”

“If you don’t think he’s bad though, why don’t you want to tell Mr Stark and Doctor Strange that you think you know who he is?”

Peter slumped down on one of the desks

“I think we really freaked him out last night. I mean, I was freaked when I punched Goblin and my arm…But he seemed really scared. And just…I don’t think Tony and Stephen would get it? I think they both just want to wrap this up quickly and move on, because they don’t want any more Big World Ending disasters. I don’t either but it’s like…I don’t know…I think we’d have a lot in common? And I think that if I was dumped in another universe on my own and every time a super hero showed up I got attacked, I’d also want to avoid getting involved. And I’d be really scared if some bad guy I’d never seen before showed up and started calling me Peter Parker. I think maybe his worlds Doctor Strange is evil as well, he might be the one who sent him here. He seemed all ready to fight Goblin but as soon as he found out Strange was nearby, he bolted.”

“Are you planning to talk to him as yourself then?” Ned asked, and Peter nodded

“He thinks Spider-Man is working with a guy who hates him, but he started to open up when I met him in the park. I think if we find him and talk to him as just like, normal people, he’ll realise there are some people here who do want to help him.” Peter pulled out his phone, looking a little guilty “I might have slipped a tracker on him yesterday…When I was removing the webs that I stuck him to the ground with…”

“The mimicry tracker?”

“She has a name now, Heidi. He’s been wearing the same hoodie for a while now, so it’s probably still on him.” Peter opened up the app to track her “I’m hoping she’s okay after going in the river…I hadn’t got around to testing her in those circumstances…”

They both leaned over the phone, watching the little loading screen of the red spider building her web, before it opened up a map of the city. Heidi’s little icon was showing nice and clearly in a library in Brooklyn. Peter went to stand, but Ned put his hand on his shoulder

“Dude, isn’t Mr Stark like, already mad at you? If he finds out you’re skipping school to chase this guy, you’re gonna be in major trouble.”

Peter groaned, but slumped back down. Missing home room was one thing, but if he didn’t show up for any of his classes today, Tony would definitely send Happy to look for him. Or even come into the city himself.

“If he’s just in a random library, then that means that none of them could have found him yet, right? So we’ll just keep an eye on him during the day and then as soon as schools out, we go find him.”

—

It was the longest day of school in the world. It seemed to never end. Every moment he could, Peter was watching Tim. Tim spent most of the day in the library and he hadn’t moved for so long, Peter was starting to worry that he’d found Heidi and removed her. But around mid-afternoon, they seemed to get the subway back up to Manhatten, wandering around the Upper East Side. It was so frustrating knowing that Tim was so close, and he was looking at Flash smirk at him from across a classroom while he bragged about his shoes or something equally unimportant. He handed in his Gatsby essay, hoping that his teacher wouldn’t notice how much of it was paraphrased from SparkNotes, and watched the tracker as Tim seemed to drift aimlessly. He hoped Tim would stay in Manatten. It would be so much easier to pretend to bump into him naturally if they were near places they’d already met. If he decided to randomly grab the train to the Bronx, he’d struggle to come up to an excuse about how they crossed paths.

It was almost like Tim was listening to him though. By the time the final bell rang, he was in Midtown. Peter excitedly showed Ned

“He’s literally in the Starkbucks that I took him to when we first met, just around the corner from Stark Industries.”

“Do you have a story planned for us seeing him?”

“Easy, we’re just getting coffee after school. There’s nothing weird about that.”

It felt easy, until they were actually nearing the Starkbucks. Peter was scared to actually pocket his phone, scared that Heidi would suddenly stop telling him where Tim was. Or that once they found Tim, he wouldn’t want to speak to them at all. There were still some bats swooping the city in small groups every now and again, but there didn’t seem to be a drastic increase despite the fight last night, and they still weren’t paying any attention to them. Even though Green Goblin knew Tim’s identity, he didn’t know Peter’s.

Ned joined the line, and Peter hung back for a moment, pretending to look for empty seats. It was quite busy this afternoon, lots of high schoolers and parents. It didn’t take him long to notice Tim, sat on a plush arm chair just in front of the till. He was still wearing the I Love New York Hoodie, but it had a few new repairs. He was reading the Daily Bugle. The coffee cup in front of him had clearly been empty for a while.

As though he felt Peter’s eyes upon him, Tim looked up. There was a moment of surprise, but he smiled in recognition. It looked as though he’d dried to cover the bags under his eyes and a new bruise with concealer. Peter smiled back, drifting over.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here.” Peter said, hoping it sounded more casual than it felt

“Hey, we’ve got to stop meeting like this.” Tim laughed. He seemed very casual and relaxed. The most relaxed he’d seemed in any of their encounters “How’s your day going?”

“Urgh, long. But I’m here with my friend Ned, so that’s fun.” Peter pointed out Ned, who was ordering a chocolate frappechino.

“Well, if you don’t have to rush off anywhere, you’re welcome to sit with me. I’m sure we can grab another chair…” Tim said, glancing around

“Yeah, that would be great!” Peter agreed, way too enthusiastically. He blushed “Do you want me to get you anything? I get a discount…Because of my internship…”

“That would be great, thank you. I’ll let you pick, I’m still new to Starkbucks, I don’t know what’s good.”

Peter ended up grabbing sandwiches and cookies for all of them while he was in the line. Since the spider bite he was nearly always hungry, burning through calories faster than he could eat them, and Tim definitely looked like he needed more than a few good meals. Plus, Ned wouldn’t turn down an after school snack, and Tim was less likely to say no if they were all eating.

“That’s the guy?” Ned whispered, peering over at Tim who had pulled up another chair for Ned and had reopened his paper. It was almost unsettling how calm he was, it was making him doubt his whole theory. Tim was not acting like a guy who just the night before had a flying green guy reveal his secret identity. If it wasn’t for the tracker, he’d almost be ready to tell Ned the whole thing was off.

“Yeah, that’s him. Do you wanna wait with me, or go over and sit with him?”

“Dude, I don’t want to go over their on my own.”

“Okay, I’ll probably need your help carrying all of this anyway. He told me to choose for him…”

Tim thanked Peter, but did not offer to pay him back for the food, or the latte with an Arc Reactor design on the top in chocolate dust.

“So how’s your day been? What did you get up to?” Peter asked, trying to be casual. As though he didn’t know every step Tim had taken that day.

“We went to the Stark Visitors centre earlier, that was cool. He’s had quite an impressive career, I can’t imagine how competitive it was applying to be his intern.”

Tim had not been to Stark Industries that day. Why would he lie about that?

“Oh Mr Stark was desperate to hire Peter. He went to his apartment in person and everything to offer him the job.” Ned said, and Peter shot him a look. Ned took way too quick a drink of frappachino to shut himself up and gave himself a brain freeze.

“That’s awesome! What kind of stuff do you normally do there?”

“Are you…Looking for an internship?” Peter asked. Tim shrugged.

“Potentially after high school. Princeton was always my first choice, but if Stark accepts interns who are still studying, then moving to New York could be a good option.”

Peter was struggling to process this, it was one of the last things he’d been expecting to talk about. Who, when they are stuck in another universe with Green Goblin after them, is thinking about their college plans? He was barely thinking about his own college plans despite Tony constantly offering to take him on tours of MIT and introduce him to the admissions team. He’d had almost this exact conversation who knows how many times at Midtown, from seniors considering their options to freshman who were just Iron Man fans, but he hadn’t planned for it under these circumstances.

But he couldn’t exactly call Tim out for lying to him. Not without revealing his own identity, which he couldn’t imagine going down well right now.

“Oh that’s really cool. You must be pretty smart to be considering Princeton. What do you want to major in?” He hoped his voice sounded enthusiastic. He hoped his face wasn’t giving him away. He wishes that Ned would stop looking at him like ‘what the fuck is happening?’

“Probably Computer Engineering, but bioengineering would also be cool. Though I’d probably be better off looking at Oscorp for an internship there. Do you know if they have any similar schemes to Stark?”

“Uhhh…No. I don’t think so. I think because they have like…Animal trials and stuff…They only hire adults…” Peter said, thinking of the Oscorp spider that he owed his powers to. It wasn’t exactly a safe place for kids to be.

“That’s disapointing. They’re surprisingly secretive about what they work on there. Do you think they’ll be showing anything off at the Stark Expo?”

“Yeah, they’ll be there. Robotics and Chemical Engineering. Is your field trip going to the expo?”

“It’s not officially on the agenda, but I’d be interested. Of course tickets are all sold out now for the events in opening week, but I might get lucky.” Tim smiled

“I mean…I have some guest passes? If you’re interested?” Peter offered. He’d wanted to bump into Tim and befriend him, but he hadn’t been expecting to be ambushed by Tim wanting free expo passes. Was he hoping to find a clue there about dimmensional travel? He’d looked over all the approved presentations with Pepper, and though some companies were trying to expand upon Tony’s Time-Space GPS, there was nothing about inter-dimmensional travel.

“That would be awesome, thank you so much! Are you heading over to Stark this afternoon? My phone was stolen the other day so it’s kind of hard for me to make plans to meet up later.”

Peter looked at Ned. Ned looked at Peter. Tony would definitely not approve of them inviting the guy everyone was looking for into his labs without telling him. If they signed ‘Timothy Wayne’ in at security, Strange would be summoned over in seconds, and they still didn’t know what Green Goblin was after. But, if they were able to make friends with this strangly friendly and assertive Tim, they might be able to get a better idea about who he was and why he was here.

“I mean, we can? Mr Stark isn’t going to be there though…And neither is Ms Potts…”

“That’s fine, I really appreciate your help!”

“Mr Stark can be kind of…funny…About me bringing people up though. It’s probably easier if we say I know you from school. Is that okay with you?”

Peter signed Tim in as Alex O’Hirn, a quiet kid in his year who was another frequent victim of Flash. They both had dark hair, so if Happy was around he hopefully didn’t have a good enough memory about Peter’s classmates to question it. And hopefully Tony had better ways to spend his afternoon than watching the cameras. He’d already seen Peter meet Tim once in this Starkbucks, he didn’t need him getting suspicous.

Chapter Text

Starkbucks coffee was really terrible. Tim had struggled not to grimace when he sipped the latte, which he wasn’t certain even contained any real coffee. If it wasn’t for the weird green guy who seemed determined to either snatch or stab him, he’d think the coffee was the worst thing about this world.

He hadn’t been able to believe his luck when Peter was the one to suggest using a fake name to access Stark Industries. He’d been worrying about how he was going to get around the security system, which would surely flag that there weren't any Tim Waynes. In an ideal world he would have introduced himself to Peter as something else that first day when they met on the street. He'd been so out of it at the time, and never expected that he’d be at a point now where he was intentionally tracking down and using the good samaritan who had stopped to help him. It was probably the only piece of good luck he'd had since he got here that Peter could get him access to Stark.

His friend Ned had even gone through the school records so he could put Alex O’Hirns real address on the visitor sign in.

Despite this, if they were caught though, it would be because of Peter and Ned. The two people who were allowed access to the building. Both of them were tense and kept looking at each other and the security cameras like they were doing something wrong. If Tony Stark was so particular about people going into his labs, why had Peter agreed in the first place? Tim hadn’t even been that pushy.

“Hiya Happy, we need to sign in another visitor.” Peter said, his voice higher than usual and his posture stiff. Happy had look from Peter to Tim with suspicion. Tim gave him a small smile, hoping that this didn’t take too long.

“Are you working up in the labs today?” Happy asked, passing Tim a tablet to sign in with. Like the phones here, it didn’t have any buttons as was much thinner than he was used to. It looked sleek, but would probably shetter if he dropped it on the tiled floor of the lobby. Regardless, he began confidently typing in Alex’s details, trying to ignore Ned checking over his shoulder that he was getting them all correct.

“We might head up there for a bit after.” Peter paused, looking at Tim anxiously “A-Alex here, is interested in the expo so we’re just going to grab him a guest pass.”

Tim kept his calm smile in place, trying not to show any of his frustration about how awful Peter was at this. Was an inability to lie something that Tony Stark valued in his interns? To guarentee that they weren’t working for the competition? He didn’t like how closely Happy was scrutinising him either, it seemed that Peter bringing along any friends over than Ned was very odd behaviour

“Have you and Pete been friends for a while?” Happy addressed Tim. The nickname didn’t suit him at all, it had to be ironic.

“We’ve been in a lot of the same classes for years, I just overheard Peter telling Ned about the expo and his internship today at lunch, and he offered me a pass.” Tim said, trying to be charming. Normally when he was trying to be charming, people fawned all over him.

Happy raised his eyebrows, glancing back at Peter

“So this was your idea?”

“Yeah, totally! Alex is really interested in engineering, he wants to go to Princeton!”

Tim passed Happy the tablet back, with the same smile he’d use when talking to Wayne Enterprise investors. Happy did not reciprocate, skimming over the false details and reluctantly handing Tim a visitors lanyard while looking at him directly in the eye.

“Well, if you need anything Peter, I’m just downstairs. Keeping an eye on things.”

“Thanks Happy!” Peter rushed Tim and Ned through, pressing the elevator button repetedly in the hopes it would close the doors faster, then he leaned dramatically against the handrail. Their anxiety felt excessive, Happy hadn’t even looked in his backpack his bizarre assortment of belongings and lack of school supplies could raise some awkward questions.

“Are you going to get in trouble?” He asked

“Oh um, probably not.” Peter’s eyes flicked to the security camera in the corner “Tony never said that I couldn’t bring people from school up, I just…don’t…normally…”

“None of your other friends are interested in engineering?”

“Peter doesn’t have many other friends.” Ned blurted out

“Dude!” Peter snapped, his face flushing. Happy’s suspicion suddenly made a bit more sense.

“Oh…So ‘Happy’ down there thinks I’m bullying or blackmailing you to check out your internship.”

“No! Of course not!” Peter insisted, unconvincingly as his face went even more red.

“He’s probably calling May now to see if you’ve ever mentioned an Alex.” Ned muttered, glancing at Tim apologetically

“He wouldn’t, would he?” Peter gasped, flinching as the doors slid apart, revealing an open plan office.

“Who’s May?” Tim asked, following them through the office. A couple of people called out hello to Peter, he was clearly a familar face around here.

“My aunt, the one who works at Feast.”

“Oh, the Spider-Man fan.”

Peter and Ned shot each other another nervous glance

“Pretty much everyone in New York likes Spider-Man. He’s an Avenger.” Ned said quickly. Tim shrugged, he wasn’t going to get into his personal feelings about Spider-Man here. Stark and Spider-Man were basically a package deal from what he’d seen. Spider-Mans suit was Stark tech, they had paired up against Captain America, joined forces to stop a ferry disaster and fought together against Thanos.

If Spider-Man was working with Strange, then that might mean that Stark was as well. However, Tim hadn’t seen anything that implied that Stark was involved yet. It hadn’t been him that Spider-Man had called for, and Iron Man didn’t exactly seem to be the most subtle of hereos, Tim doubted he would have missed him if he was on the island last night. Stark had retired from hero life, and handed over basically all of his company resposibilities over to his wife, even if his tech was somehow involved it was seeming unlikely that the man himself had a motive to bring Tim over across worlds. If Tim was able to get a better idea of what was going to be on display at the expo however, he could potentially narrow his suspects.

Peter tapped his ID against the scanner next to the glass door for Tony Starks office and ushered everyone inside.

“Friday, can you tint the windows please?” He asked

“Of course Peter” An automated voice replied, and Tim flinched as the glass wall next to him suddenly darkened, blocking their view of the corridor outside. He reached out apprehensively, his fingers not quite touching the glass for fear of smudging it. There didn’t seem to be a reflection in the now opaque surface.

“What are those made of?”

“It’s just PLDC glass, it’s synched up to Tony’s AI, Friday. She also has access to the lights and everything, it’s super conveniant.”

“Friday?”

“Well it’s not Friday, it’s F.R.I.D.A.Y. Female Replacement Intelligant Digital Assistant Youth. It’s an acronym. Tony likes to use those a lot.”

“Have you ever worried about her turning evil and locking you all in here?” Tim half joked

“I think since Ultron, Tony has been a lot more careful with that sort of thing.”

“Stark had an evil AI?” Tim asked, horrified. This somehow hadn’t shown up in any of his previous internet searches, was Stark paying for it to be buried somehow?

“It was meant to be a peacekeeping robot but it kind of got the wrong idea and tried to destroy humanity…” Peter admitted, then added on hastily “But Friday and Vision both helped to take down Ultron and Tony made both of them!”

“So is ‘Vision’ here in case Friday decides to eliminate us all?”

“No…He was also made up of the Mind Stone so Thanos…Well…” Peter swallowed and tugged anxiously at his sweater sleeves “We should probably grab that guest pass.”

Peter fished out one of the guest passes and quickly logged in on the computer to set it up with ‘Alex’s’ details

“Okay so this gets you into the main expo. There are normally a few empty seats for the ticketed events because reporters or investors don’t show up so if you hang around any of those before they start, it’s first come first serve. Or you can ask to stand at the back if theres space.” Peter explained, then locked eyes with Ned “I’m going to have to be with Tony for most of it, but Ned can go with you if you don’t want to explore on your own.”

“Oh um, yeah, totally! Way more fun in a group!” Neds fake enthusiasm was admirable

“Thank you very much, but I’m not sure exactly what my schedule is going to be like, and no phone…” Tim started to excuse himself. Ned seemed sweet enough, but hardly his first choice of sidekick for trying to work out if any of the tech companies in attendance wanted to destroy Batman.

“We can get you a phone, there’s loads of old Stark ones upstairs.”

“Oh I really couldn’t…” Tim started. He really did not like the idea of having Stark technology tracking his every move.

“You can have it for free, no one would miss it.” Peter insisted

“The guest pass and the phone is really too much…”

“If you want to see the labs, then it’s easy to grab the phone while we’re up there.” Peter said, logging off the computer and handing the pass over “Unless you really need to dash off?”

“Thank you.” Tim said, taking the pass and feeling the anxiety rise in his chest. If it hadn’t been his idea to come to Stark in the first place, he’d be worried this was some sort of trap. He wasn’t totally sure now that it had been his idea. He’d gone to the Starkbucks where he first met Peter and had spent the afternoon haunting all his regular spots trying to naturally bump into him. But Peter had been the one to suggest the fake name, potentially trying to hide Tim from Stark? Peter probably knew Spider-Man from both his aunts shelter work and Starks hero duties, could he have potentially told Peter about Green Goblin last night, revealing his name? Tim had never told Peter any of his surnames but if he was working off ‘weird guys named Tim in New York’ Peter probably hadn’t met that many new ones in the last fortnight. Peter would know that Tim would want to look around the labs now he was here, and he was holding that over his head. Accept the phone and the risks associated with it, or leave.

Had using Friday to black out the windows been Peter’s way of showing that the building was under his control, and it would be difficult to leave without his permission?

“So do you want to see the labs?” Peter asked again, seeming so innocent and harmless, all wide eyes and curls.

“If you’re sure it’s not any trouble…” Tim said, smiling at Peter again. Everything was probably being monitered by Stark and Friday, he didn’t need to give him any reason to be suspcious. He’d make sure to leave the phone on the subway later.

“No trouble at all, you’ll love it.”

Tim tried not to focus too much on looking relaxed as the elevator continued to climb. If he thought about it, he’d look as nervous as he felt. Ned and Peter were talking about actual school work, an essay that neither of them had tried very hard on and were now worrying about.

School felt like such a long time ago. Would everyone still be revising together without him, or would exams have been forgotten in the wake of a family tragedy? Would he be back in time for the exams next week?

The elevator doors opened, and they stepped out into a corridor. All the labs seemed to have the same glass walls as Stark’s office, some of them opaque and others transparent.

“There won’t be many people here at this time, but as long as we don’t mess with anything important we can have a look around.” Peter said, leading the way comfortably “This floors mostly for like your everyday Stark tech such as phones, tablets, headphones and such so nothing dangerous.”

“Was I meant to sign an NDA before coming up here?” Tim asked, holding back slightly. Peter stiffened.

“Oh…Probably…I forgot about that. Just…Don’t tell anyone you were up here?” He turned back nervously, and Tim tried to smile reasurringly as he held up his hand in a mock salute

“Scouts honour.”

The labs themself, now that most of the staff had left for the day and locked away their work, weren’t as exciting as he’d hoped. It was mostly empty workbenches and locked computers. Nothing that seemed to hint to dimmensional travel.

“Even if Mr Stark is retired, does he still work on projects for the Avengers?” Tim asked, tracing his finger along one of the benches as Peter rumaged in a cabinet for a phone

“Every now and then. The Winter Soldier and Falcon mostly rely on Wakanda for their tech, and Pym takes care of Ant Man and Wasp. I know that Tony still does bits and pieces for Mr Rhodes, well War Machine, and he still works with Dr Banner. Here we go!”

Peter held up the phone truimphantly. It looked just like a smaller version of the tablet downstairs.

“Presenting you with your very own Richard.”

“Is that another acronym?” Tim asked, taking the phone hesitantantly and turning it over in his hand, he couldn’t see a button to turn it on. Peter resumed rummaging to try and find a charger

“Reliable Intelligent Cellular Handheld Affordable Resourceful Device…I think…” Peter rattled off uncertainly

Catchy.

“I think it’s Appealing instead of Affordable…” Ned said, looking it up from his own phone “Yeah the Affordable is in the J.A.S.O.N.”

“And what does the rest of that stand for?” Tim tried to suppress his smirk

“Jazzy Affordable Sound Optimal Noise…” Ned read “It’s a speaker…”

“There isn’t one called Damian is there?” Tim asked before he could stop himself, he was getting too close to revealing something about his family. Ned didn’t notice however, quickly looking it up

“Ah…Yeah…It’s a tablet…Digital Accelerated Multifunctional Impossibly Accomplished Necessity.”

He was very glad that the Damian did not exist back home, they would never hear the end of it.

“Who names these things?”

“There’s a couple of rules like it has to be between 4 and 9 letters, non-offensive, and it can’t share a name with another Stark project or another copyright…But other than that if you make it, you name it.” Peter managed to retrieve a cable and passed it to Tim

“I bet they’re all insane at Scrabble.” Ned said in awe looking back at the lab, as though imagining the brilliant minds that worked there, coming up with the tech of tomorrow and flicking through their dictionaries for their inventions perfect names.

Peter showed off the rest of the labs, it turned out that the workbenches could create holograms, allowing staff to create and test the prototypes digitally before moving to the physical versions which saved resources. Beneficial for both the enviroment and their profit margins. Peter’s normally nervous demeanor seemed to shift when he was working, his posture was a little straighter and his face more composed as he easily navigated the complex software, describing the different features. Tim had always viewed the Batcomputer as one of the worlds most sophisticated pieces of technology but in comparison to this, it was slow and clunky. The physical keyboard felt archaic, and he kept pestering Peter with questions so that he could try and understand how all of this worked, in the hopes he might be able to create something similar when he returned home.

The meeting rooms looked the same as those at Wayne Enterprises, until Peter pulled up another hologram, this time a map of the upcoming Expo.

“Tony is going to be opening the Expo next friday in the Howard Pavillion.” Peter said, easily zooming in “This years theme in Accessibility so most of the tech that’s being displayed is focusing on helping those in undeveloped areas access necessities such as food and water, outreach programmes for schools in underfunded areas and developments to help those with disabilities.”

“Do they announce what everyone is going to be showing before the expo?” Tim asked, crouching down to look at all the blue holographic pavillions, each devoted to a different area of scientific advancement

“No, that’s classified, I can’t show you any of that. But it’ll all be worth keeping an eye on.” Peter grinned

“Is it useful for networking?”

“It is if you’re Peter…” Ned mumbled, and Peter flushed again

“The networking is the worst bit, I basically have to follow Tony around as he introduces me to all his old college pals. It’s awkward and it’s boring and at least three people try and guess who my mom is based upon who he was dating who knows how many years ago.”

So it was exactly like a Wayne Enterprises gala, except Peter probably wasn’t at risk of trying to sneak out from the roof like any of Bruce’s wards.

“While Peter’s up there rubbing shoulders with the worlds best and brightest, us common folk are limited to the scheduled Q&A sessions, and those are always a nightmare to get into. Especially if you want to see anyone worthwhile.”

“Would Oscorp be hosting a Q&A?” Tim zoomed in on Chemical Engineering, as though he could see Norman Osborn himself in the false pavillion

“Yeah, but that one will be oversubscribed for sure.”

“We’re livestreaming the most popular panels this year, you could either watch it online or there are screens in the outside spaces.” Peter pointed out

“There’s always at least one girl who manages to sneak in to try and ask if Harry Osborn is single.” Ned rolled his eyes “He’s not even that good looking.”

“I’m not sure Harry’s coming this year, he texted me recently if there were any jobs at Stark that I thought he might be good for…”

“You and Harry Osborn text? And you didn’t tell me? Dude!”

“We don’t text a lot, his dad basically forced us to exchange details because he said that I would be a ‘good influence’. It was really embarassing. He just messages me sometimes when he’s drunk or mad at his dad.”

“And he’s mad at his dad at the moment?” Tim pried

“Yeah, Oscorp was always suppossed to be a legacy corporation. I think Harry always kind of felt like he do whatever he wanted because he was always guarenteed to inherit the company. His dad recently though has been talking about choosing another heir and firing Harry. I mean, he never really had an actual job there, he just kind of hung around the building and got a paycheck but even so, he’s taking it hard.”

“Is Harry smart?”

Part of him felt slightly bad for Harry, being replaced by a mystery heir who seemed to have come out of no where. It wasn’t too far from what had happened with him and the Robin mantle being passed to Damian who everyone viewed as having a greater claim to it. But it was interesting as well that Osborn seemed to be giving up on the son that he’d always intended to take over the company.

Ned and Peter looked at each other

“I don’t want to be mean…” Peter started hesitantly

“He’s not like…A super genius…”

“He got into Yale…”

“Yeah but he’s a legacy and there’s a bunch of labs donated by his dad there, and didn’t he drop out?”

“He said he’s taking a sebatical.”

“So he did drop out.”

“Tony kind of agrees with Osborn that Harry isn’t really cut out to run a company like Oscorp, and if Tony thinks someone is irresponsible that really tells you something…” Peter sighed

“Do you think Oscorp will say anything about the future of the company at the expo?” Tim asked

“They’d better not. It’s totally not the point. It’s all meant to be about promoting new tech. If Osborn wants to announce something like that, he can host his own press conference.”

“If someone asks at the Q&A though, and they definitely will, Osborn would so try and get everyone interested. He’s all Mr Public Image right now. Have you seen his new teeth? They look so fake! And he can’t move half his face now because of the botox.”

“He looks awful.” Tim agreed “Has Osborn not always been so concerned with apperances then?”

“No that’s very new. He used to be the sort who just donates large chunks of money to get his names on things and for tax cuts but it’s like the last month, he’s suddenly trying to clean up the city. He’s tried to come by Feast a bunch, but May wouldn’t let him. She’s really against people using the suffering of others to build their own platform. Feast is lucky though because Stark helps to fund their work, the other shelters that let him in are probably just looking for extra funds.”

“Do you think he wants to swipe Spider-Man as a customer from Stark and that’s why he was so interested in Feast?”

Both Ned and Peter laughed

“Osborn hates Spider-Man, how do you think Jamerson funds his photographers for his smear campaigns?” Peter said

Tim paled slightly, he hadn’t realised he’d been taking Norman Osborns money when he’d helped out Jamerson. He didn’t think the man had noble intentions, but even in Gotham lots of people had concerns about heroes out on the streets. He’d assumed that being the only paper openly criticising masked vigilantes was just good for business. The ‘bonus’ for uncovering Spider-Mans identity suddenly felt additionally sinister. Why was Osborn so invested in Spider-Man?

Had Spider-Man been created in some sort of accident in one of their labs? Peter had mentioned animal experiments, and they specilised in chemical engineering…But surely then Osborn would know which of his former employees was the masked webslinger?

“Jamerson doesn’t like Osborn much either but he can’t get away with being too critical. Every now and again he’ll start a rant about Oscorps plans to carry out blood tests in schools and how corporate America is trying to steal our kids DNA, and then he’ll issue a big public apology just a bit later saying he didn’t have all the facts.” Peter rolled his eyes

“The blood test thing, wasn’t recent was it?”

If he was trying to find Spider-Man, checking kids for Meta DNA would be a good place for Osborn to start.

“No that was like…Two, three years ago?”

Around the time Spider-Man and Green Goblin both appeared in New York.

Was Green Goblin affiliated with Oscorp? He’d have to try and find out more about their work and technology. He had to find a way into Oscorp. His only real opening would be the expo, but that didn’t start until next week.

He didn’t have anywhere to go tonight, how was he meant to last another week here?

How was he meant to get home?

Tim closed his eyes, trying to focus on his breathing.

He needed to think.

He had to breathe. He couldn’t panic. Panicking meant that you made mistakes. He couldn’t afford to keep making mistakes and wasting his time.

Green Goblin had called him Timothy Wayne, just like Hugo Strange had. No one back home called him Timothy Wayne except journalists. They always forgot the Drake, dead business owners and archaeologists didn’t sell papers but billionaire playboy philantropists did. Norman Osborn wanted a new heir, Green Goblin had tried to snatch him, Hugo Strange had said about getting him out of Batman’s shadow, that he was practical and impressive…

He had to breathe. He had to calm down and think. He had to come up with a plan.

Where was he going to sleep? What was he going to eat? How was he going to confirm who Green Goblin was? How would he fight Green Goblin, Spider-Man and Hugo Strange? What did any of them want with him? How was he going to get home? He needed to get out of here. He had to come up with a plan. He needed to think!

“Hey Tim, Tim, you’re okay, you’re safe.” Peter started to say, approaching him carefully

“No I’m not!” Tim tried to say, but it was more of a wordless scream. He couldn’t breathe. He was going to be ripped apart again. He couldn’t breathe. He wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe at all. He couldn’t be safe here.

Ned ran out of the room, no doubt sent to fetch someone. They were going to ask questions. They’d want him to call an adult. He didn’t have anyone to call. He was all on his own and he wasn’t safe.

“Tim. You’re safe. We’re in Stark Industries, Manhatten, New York, United States of America, Earth. You’re safe. Please, breathe with me.”

It was the wrong Earth. He wasn’t safe. He felt like he’d inhaled fear toxin. The panic was making him shake all over and he gripped his arm, the one with the Thing in it, waiting for it to burn. For it to show again that the person who brought him here was looking for him. They were going to rip him apart again…

He was vaguely aware of Peter guiding him to the floor, encouraging him to breathe. Repeating that he was safe.

He tried to breathe. He locked eyes with Peter, using him to centre himself. Peter who had been so nervous about bringing him here, now acting completely composed at what must look like a random freak out. There was no fear in his eyes, he just kept talking to Tim. Reminding him that he was safe. He found himself almost believing him as he managed to inhale. Hold. Exhale. Hold. Inhale…

It felt ridiculous, but in the moment, Peter almost reminded him of Bruce. Taking his fear upon his own shoulders so that he could be free of it, even for just a little while.

“Are you feeling any better?” Peter asked quietly, and Tim gave a hesitant nod. Ned came back, alone but holding a glass of water that Tim took gratefully. His head hurt, and he couldn’t be expected to talk while drinking. He knew he needed to come up with an excuse for what just happened, but he was just so tired. He'd been forcing one foot in front of the other all day and he couldn't face doing it anymore.

He didn't know how to keep making plans when he had no resources. What was the point of continuing to gather information when he was so powerless?

"You're not in New York in a field trip, are you?" Peter asked quietly, he was crouched down, balanced on the balls of his feet. Tim paused for a moment, then slowly shook his head

"Do you have somewhere to go tonight?" Tim started to nod, but admitted defeat. His gave his head one slow shake, taking a sip of his water to avoid looking at Peter.

He hated this. He didn't feel like he knew who he was anymore. He wasn't a son, a hero or a friend. He was just lost and pathetic.

"Okay. Okay, we can work something out." Peter said, looking over to Ned, who shifted uncomfortably

"I don't know if I can bring him to mine, my Lola and parents would ask a lot of questions...And I'm not good at lying..."

Ned was a terrible liar. Tim would never be safe there.

"It's fine, I can probably..." Tim trailed off. He really didn't want to spend another sleepless night on the subway.

"I have bunk beds." Peter said simply "I'll convince May to let you stay."

"I can't go to Feast." Tim said abruptly "Spider-Man...He..."

He couldn't finish the sentence, the panic rising again in his chest, the trembling restarting. He couldn't think of a good explanation for why he had to avoid Spider-Man that didn't give himself away.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. I promise while you're with me, you won't have to see Spider-Man. It's okay. We can go back to my apartment. May will want to help."

Tim had been completely out of it following Peter home. Thankfully without him even mentioning it, Peter was aware of the bats, making sure that the coast was clear before calling him out of the subway station or ducking down side streets when they flew overhead. The apartment building was modest, the lights in the hallway flickering.

“Are you okay to wait out here for a sec, just while I let May know you’re staying over? I’ll tell her you’re Alex, just in case Happy did call her earlier.”

Tim nodded, and slumped against the wall by the door as Peter slipped inside. His eyes felt like they were filled with sand and his head hurt with a constant pressure in his temples. He knew he needed to be able to remain calm, to walk in there as the Alex that Happy had met at Stark. Confident, self assured. Not falling apart into pieces.

He hadn’t even noticed that he’d fallen asleep until Peter opened the door again and startled him awake.

“May says it all fine, do you want anything to eat, or just to go to bed?” He asked softly

“I don’t mind…” Tim mumbled, following Peter in.

The apartment was small, the lights dim. The kitchen and the living room were all one space, a dining table where none of the chairs matched to the side. The furniture was all well used, the sofas sunken where Peter and May must curl up together to watch tv, there were beat up board games on the book sleves next to photos and awards. Tim noticed that as Peter grew up, the amount of smiling faces in the frames lessened, that there seemed to be a few years without any pictures at all.

May herself was probably around her 40’s, long brown hair tied back casually in a ponytail. She was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and had the vibe of someone who’d been ready to turn in for the night.

When had it gotten late?

She looked at Tim, and he must have looked as bad as he felt. As their eyes met, and he saw the worried crease that was permantly etched between her eyes, in contrast with the faded smile lines around her lips, he felt for the first time since he’d been brought here that there was someone who understood. Someone who knew what it was like to lose everything in a moment, but to have to keep pushing through. He glanced at Peter, who didn’t shy away from his gaze. Peter hadn’t missed it in him. Peter had seen, despite his efforts, that he was alone.

They had all lost everything. They were all still here.

Tim didn’t pull away when May wrapped her arms around him. He didn’t hug her back, but he left a dampness on her shoulder, tears he didn’t have to carry alone anymore.

Chapter Text

Tim never slept well his first night in a new bed.

It never used to bother him, sleeping somewhere unfamilar. When he was very small, too small to be left at home, his parents had brought them on a few of their trips. Whether they were in a tent by an excavation or a 5 star hotel, he could always fall asleep easily to the sounds of his fathers snores and mothers breathing. He’d struggled more when they’d return home, those first few nights in his own room with only his only thoughts buzzing around his head. He’d creep down the corridors just to peer in at his parents sleeping, checking that they were still there.

But as he got older, they felt more comfortable leaving him in the manor while they went on their travels. He could never get to sleep the first few nights after they left. They always hired someone to take care of him, but they never lasted long. At first, he’d believed that if he could chase these hired grown ups out, then his parents would be forced to return. When he found that didn’t work, he began to learn where the lines were drawn, and which ones he could cross to force his parents home. Eventually he learned that it didn’t matter if there was a small fire or a broken bone, they weren’t coming.

Jack and Janet grew tired of the constant phone calls to agencies to find new hired help. That’s how they decided seven year old Tim would thrive at boarding school, the other children could help to keep their own over active child occupied. They had business in Barcelona on the day he was meant to leave, but they’d phoned before he was packed up into the car to tell him they loved him, and they would see him soon.

There had been three other boys in his dorm, all worn down children who had already learned that their parents careers took priority. Children who’d spent their lives so far amongst hired help in large empty houses, or moved constantly across cities and countries. None of the other boys had cried that first night, experiance had taught them all that there was no point crying. Nobody would come. Tim tried to remember that as he wiped his own silent tears on the unfamilar bed sheets, keeping his eyes fixed on the mattress and slats above him to avoid over analsing every shadow and noise.

He’d lasted six months at that school before they suggested to his parents that he might be happier elsewhere. He wasn’t any happier at the next school. Or the one after that. Or any of the other fine educational institutions they sent him to that gradually drifted further and further out of state as his character references became longer and more detailed. Creative and intelligant didn’t accurately describe a boy who was never caught within the walls mapping out secret tunnels or climbing over the roofs, but seemed to always be missing and when found, covered in dirt and cobwebs. A boy who never directly stole from others, but had a habit of moving things to peculiar locations such as putting the school chickens in the library, or the headmasters laundry hanging from the ceiling of the chapel. There would always be the awful few days where he was banned from attending classes or itteracting with his peers when he was officially expelled, and the phone calls were being made to ensure there would be staff at the house when he returned and a car to fetch him. His parents were busy in New Zealand. India. China. Switzerland. There was no way that they could redirect their trip to come and get him.

It had felt like that since he’d arrived in New York. Unable to interact with anyone, the looming uncertainty and the knowledge that the people who he really wanted to see weren’t coming to get him.

Peter’s nervous energy didn’t follow him into sleep. The boy on the top bunk had fallen asleep almost as soon as he’d laid down. Tim’s body and mind were exhausted, but every time he’d start to fall asleep he’d be jolted awake again in a panic. He lay in the dark, staring the the shadows of Peter’s computer cluttering up the desk, the box of assorted electronic devices, the bulging closet that was clearly the result of a rushed tidy focused simply on removing things from the floor. He tried to count the seconds betweent he trains passing. He listened into the loud voices of those who walked past, trying to guess their relationships by snippets of conversations. He tossed and turned and stared at the bunk above him until he couldn’t take it anymore, and slipped silently out of Peter’s room.

No one had shut the living room blinds, so the main apartment wasn’t too dark, the streetlights illuminating the shadows of the furniture. He was used to navigating the darkness however, it took more than Peter’s lose shoes to trip him up as he made his way over to the bathroom.

There were basic child locks on the medicine cabinet, probably left over from a previous tennant. These wouldn’t stop Peter and they certainly didn’t stop Tim. His eyes glazed over the contents of the cupboard for a moment before finally absorbing what he was seeing enough to find the melatonin.

Back home, Alfred wasn’t past slipping any of them sleeping aids. Of course slipping Bruce anything was next to impossible, if he drank anything with drugs in it then it was because he recognised he needed the extra help. Tim was an easier target once he was sleep deprived, his brain working slower. Still collecting all the information around it, but it all started getting cluttered. His brain becoming a busy mess of colours that all swirled into an unattractive brown, It was always vaguely annoying realising he was being forced to sleep, the betrayel of his body as it slipped into darkness, but Alfred was almost always right about when he needed more than a power nap.

If he could just get a good nights sleep, then would he be able to come up with a plan to get home? Would he be able to come up with answers to the awkward questions that would no doubt be coming in the morning? Was he better off just crashing here, or slipping out while May and Peter were asleep?

He discarded that train of thought. Even though it wouldn’t pose a physical challange to leave the apartment, the idea of walking through Queens alone right now with his brain so slow was unthinkable. He’d be spotted by the bats, which would alert Green Goblin of his prescence, or Spider-Man on patrol who would alert Strange.

He opened the bottle, tipping out two of the pills and rolling them between his fingers. It was probably a bad idea to try and put himself to sleep like this in a strangers apartment. He honestly barely knew Peter and had just met May. The alternative though seemed to be to spend house staring at Peter’s mattress, reminding himself that he wasn’t a powerless child anymore. He didn’t need a grown up to tell him that he could go home. He could send himself home, if he just managed to make a plan. But how could he make a plan unless he slept?

He returned the pill bottle, but kept his two tucked in his palm, making his way back through the apartment to the kitchen. He filled up a glass with water, and sat down at the dining room table, staring again at his pills.

He flinched violently when a small lamp clicked on, and he saw May in the doorway of her room, wiping sleep from her eyes

“Hey, sorry, I thought I heard something.” She yawned. May must be an exceptionally light sleeper.

“Sorry for waking you…” Tim said quietly, slipping the pills back up his sleeve.

“It’s fine…Is Pete keeping you awake?”

“No he’s asleep, I was just thirsty…” Tim gestured to his glass of water. May nodded, but instead of turning the light out and heading to bed she went towards the kitchen, grabbing her own glass of water and a packet of cookies that she put down on the table

“Do you mind if I join you?” She asked, her hand resting lightly on the back of the chair across from him. Tim shrugged and she sat down. He took a sip of water. Did he acknowledge that he’d cried on her earlier? All he really knew about Peter’s aunt was that she worked at a homeless shelter and was a big Spider-Man fan. His eyes drifted over to the shelves cluttered with photos, half surprised that the pictures at the front were all recent. Peter and Ned in suits for a school dance, Peter shaking hands with Tony Stark accepting some sort of award, May outside of Feast with Spider-Man. He had to peer behind them to see Peter and May at Coney Island with a laughing man, the two sets of wedding photos, the picture of a very young Peter with a smiling couple.

He’d suspected it since Peter hadn’t mentioned any relatives except for his aunt, but the pictures seemed to confirm that Peter, like him, was an orphan.

It seemed odd to have the faces you saw everyday at the front, while those who were gone were shoved to the back.

“My wedding photo the one on the left, with Ben. The one on the right is Mary and Ben’s brother Richard, Peter’s parents.” May said quietly. He hadn’t exactly been subtle looking at the photos. “We lost Ben in the Battle of New York. He was a firefighter. He was trying to help with the evacuation efforts.”

Tim didn’t know what the Battle of New York was, but that wasn’t the important information. He’d helped with enough evacuations himself over the years to know what they were like. Ben’s death wouldn’t have been quick and painless. He could have been crushed by falling debry or suffocated by smoke. He would have walking past bodies and having to make the call about who was too far gone to save.

“I’m sorry for your loss…” He said, making the effort to look back at May. He hated when people looked away from him when they said that, as they tried to find a way out of the awkward conversation. She gave him a soft, sad smile as she helped herself to a cookie

“Thank you. We were doing okay, pulling through, then we had the blip. Peter and I weren’t together when we blipped out. One minute I was in Feast, I was rushing to bring someone the first aid kit, and the next five years had gone by. I go home, and there’s a strange couple in my apartment. All of my things are gone and I can’t get hold of Peter and it was just terrifying.” She broke her cookie in half, then half again. It was more something to do with her hands than anything else, her eyes focused on the crumbs that fell to the table. “But I managed to find Peter. We got back in touch with friends who hadn’t blipped, who had managed to hold onto things like our photos. We rebuilt. There are still days where I’m scared to send him off to school, not knowing if he’ll be taken from me again. Or I’m scared to unlock the front door, in case someone else has moved in. But I know Ben would want me to keep going. He was a firm beliver that being brave involves being scared, and then pressing forward anyway.”

She was leaving it open for him to say who he had lost, without pressuring him with a direct question.

He took a cookie, digging out the chocolate chips with his nail.

Damian was the only one in the manor with living parents but neither of them were great examples of healthy parenting. Everyone knew how everyone elses parents had died, they didn’t really talk about it. He couldn’t talk with Dick about the night his parents died without his own emotions coming forward, his own fear and confusion that were so insignificant in comparison to what Dick had lost. Thomas and Martha Wayne didn’t feel like real people to any of them anymore, they were a legend and a legacy. If Jason had ever wanted to talk about his parents, the betrayel of his mother, he certainly wouldn’t have tried to find Tim for that conversation.

It was impossible to ever think of his own losses without comparing with everyone elses. Wayne Manor was a house of mourning. Everything they did was triggered by death. He couldn’t even think about his own homesickness in another world without worrying about everyone back home. How they might not even know that he was alive. It felt stupid and self absorbed to worry about his family mourning him. Maybe it would be different if he hadn’t moved into the manor so soon after Jason died.

But he had. He’d seen Alfred have to slip Bruce sleeping pills almost every night to stop the nightmares. He’d been out on patrol, seeing the way that Bruce tried to cover him constantly and keep him safe. The constant reminders to do as he was told to avoid anything bad happening to him. The threats that if he didn’t do as he was told, he’d be stripped of Robin. He’d trailed off mid sentance so many times, scared that he’d say something that might remind them of Jason. He’d seen Alfred change the towels and bedsheets in a room they believed no one would sleep in again, ensuring that it was dusted and vacumed. Once or twice, Tim had crept in there. Trying to get a sense of who Jason had been. All of his books had been neatly shelved so that you couldn’t tell what he had been reading before he left. The papers from his final case had been removed. All the clothes that had shown any signs of wear had been donated. The windows opened to prevent the air from becoming stale. The room felt as dead as the boy if used to belong to. The suit in the case with it’s plaque. ‘Jason Todd, Robin, a Good Soldier’. A perfect memorial to someone who didn’t exist.

He couldn’t help thinking of his own bedroom. Alfred unpacking his school bag from that final day. His pencil case had an ink stain on it from an accident when he’d been refilling his fountain pen, so that would be discarded. Alfred would probably empty and clean the pen as well to ensure that it wouldn’t be damaged in long term storage. They’d throw out the stained coffee mugs, clean up his coffee machine. Would they just throw away his actual coffee beans, or replace them regularly despite no one drinking them? They’d scrub away every trace of the life he’d lived and who he had been. The Red Robin suit would sit abandoned in the cave, no one trying to take up that particular legacy. His plaque might need to be a bit bigger than Jason’s or the text smaller, not because he was more accomplished but because there would be so many names. Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, Robin, Red Robin. A good…? Son? Friend? Assistant?

He didn’t have time for his own grief knowing that he needed to get home and take theirs away. He couldn’t shake the anxiety, that the longer it took him to get home, the more their memories of him would fade. When Jason had returned, he hadn’t just been replaced by Tim. He’d been replaced by the eternally bright eyed perfect Robin that haunted Bruce’s memories, and the corpse that he’d redressed before anyone could identify him. The real, anrgy Jason in did not take away their grief for the dead child. Tim’s legacy in comparison was pathetic. He’d surrendered as Timothy Wayne.

If they accepted him as dead, would he have an empty grave? Would be be buried amongst the Drakes or the Waynes?

“My parents were murdered.” He said quietly. The words that none of them ever spoke out loud. “Not at the same time, a few years apart. My adopted dad, his parents were murdered as well. I met him shortly after…His son was murdered, but that was before my parents were killed? He’s got a unique way of grieving. Basically everything he does is in memory of his parents but he doesn’t really let himself feel it. It hurts too much. And he’s always sort of…Keeping an eye out. Making sure that after we lose someone we don’t get too angry or anything. I’ve been trying to be like him and keep pushing forward with that detachment. Back home I could usually do it. But it’s not working anymore and I’m…”

So. Tired.

“Maybe you don’t need to keep pushing forward for a while. Maybe you need to stop.” May said. Tim started to shake his head but she continued “My grief forced me to stop, it took everything in me to keep going. But you can’t run forever, sooner or later you’ll be forced to confront it.”

“I don’t have time…”

“You’ve been trying really hard, I can see that. But if what you’re doing isn’t working, then you need to change approach. If pushing yourself through this on your own isn’t helping, maybe you need to stop and let someone help.”

“No one here can help me.”

“Have you asked anyone?”

He started sorting crumbs from chips on the table, chocolate melted to his finger tips.

“Peter…Gave me the expo pass and brought me with him tonight when…I didn’t have anywhere to go…”

“He’s a good kid. He’s very good at seeing someone else in need and helping them out.”

“He’s still just a kid though…”

“You’re still just a kid.” May laughed, but not unkindly. “Don’t under estimate him. He might be able to help with more than you think if you give him a chance.”

Most of what he’d told Peter about himself so far had been lies, which were starting to crumble around him.

“You don’t need to make any decisions tonight, that’s for certain. It’s late, we should both try and get some sleep.”

Tim nodded. He swept his cookie into the trash can. He slipped the melatonin into his mouth as he finished his water before returning his glass to the sink. He vaguely remembered what Peter had said to him before he’d going in to talk to May.

“Did Peter tell you who I was?” He asked

“He didn’t say very much. He said he’d signed you into Stark as Alex, and that you needed somewhere safe to stay for a while.”

He still didn’t quite know why Peter had been the one to suggest the fake name. It had been useful for him, but he still didn’t see what Peter gained from misleading Stark. He didn’t gain anything from misleading May however.

“I’m Tim. Tim Drake.” He told her quietly.

He didn’t look at the top bunk as he climbed into his own bed, cacooning himself in the comforter.

—

Peter listened carefully to Tim’s breathing and heart rate before he started to get up. It had probably been a bad idea to bring him here, especially so spontaniously. He hadn’t had time to prepare properly. He just hadn’t known what to do after seeing Tim break down back at Stark, he had no idea what had even triggered it. They’d had just been talking about Oscorp then suddenly Tim was on the ground hyperventilating. He couldn’t exactly just send him out on the streets again unsupervised after that, and it didn’t feel right to just stalk him as Spider-Man.

Tim still seemed to be deeply asleep, so Peter very carefully clung to the wall, picking off some of the more incriminating post its that he’d missed the night before from his wall. Spider-Man related puns he’d prepped for patrols, his web fluid recipe, things like that. He’d managed to shove his suits and gear in the very back of his closet, Tim wouldn’t be stumbling across those unless he went rummaging.

Which he might do. It would be safest to avoid leaving Tim alone in the room until he had worked out a better solution.

He gently eased open the door, and slipped out of the bedroom, heading over to May’s room.

May was awake, but just barely. She dropped her phone on her face when she saw him.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly, lowering himself down on the end of the bed.

“You’re okay.” May yawned, pulling him up towards her end of the bed and pulling the comforter over him as well. It always reminded him of birthdays joining her in bed, opening presents crammed between her and Ben before school “How’s Tim doing?”

“He’s still asleep…How do you…”

“We had a little chat last night.”

“Did he tell you anything useful?” Peter asked, far too eagerly apparrently as May shot him a disaproving look.

“I wouldn’t say that useful is the right term. He opened up a bit about his family, but if he wants to tell you that, then he will. However if you want to tell me useful information though such as why you are bringing strangers home, I would love to hear it.”

Peter rushed through what he knew, refusing to look at May in case he lost his nerve. He told her about his previous meetings with Tim. He spoke about his theory that Tim was the Masked Guy who’d been dragged into their dimmension. How Green Goblin was after him. Tim bolting at the mention of Strange, and how Strange just wanted to send him home by any means necessary, even though Tim hadn’t been brought to their world by magic and he really wasn’t sure sending him back that way would work.

And he told her about how he was pretty sure that Tim had been the one selling his pictures to the Bugle, and after being stuck to the floor in the middle of an active battle field, his opinion of Spider-Man was at rock bottom.

“He was scared to come home with me in case he saw Spider-Man. I don’t think he knows that’s me just yet, but if he’s staying here then I won’t be able to go on patrol, and then he’s going to notice that Spider-Man is suddenly gone and Tony’s going to ask a million questions and then he’ll tell Strange and…urghhh.” He buried his head in his hands, tugging at his hair in frustration “And I know you don’t really want me involved in this but I couldn’t just leave him…”

“Hey hey, Pete. I’m never going to be upset with you for trying to help.” May said, guiding his face to look at her “I’m proud of you, and I think you made the right choice. It sounds like Tim’s been through a lot, and you’re probably the first person to try and help him out since he got here. I was worried before because it seemed like you were trying to do everything on your own just to try and prove something, and I was scared you were going to get pulled into another dimmension, but you’re doing good.

“I hate that he’s scared of me. But I don’t know what to do about that.”

“I think that you’re on the right track befriending him as Peter Parker. Tim probably knows things that you don’t, he’s the one who’s been dealing with this. If you show him that you’re someone he can trust who wants to help him, then when you tell him that you’re Spider-Man it won’t be as scary.”

“You think I should tell him?”

“I think that it’s a bit unfair that you know his secret and he doesn’t know yours. As you said, he’ll probably work it out sooner rather than later. If he finds it out on his own, then he won’t trust you or Spider-Man.”

“What do we tell Strange and Tony though about the guy I suddenly brought home?”

“They haven’t ever met Tim, have they?”

“Tony’s seen him through CCTV and I bet Happy sent him pictures from yesterday. Strange had only seen him wearing that dumb mask but he knows that Masked Guy is Timothy Wayne. We can’t keep saying he’s Alex O’Hirn because that’s a real person.”

“Well, Tim’s survived the last two or so weeks without being found, maybe he’s made his own secret identity. If you earn his trust, maybe he’ll tell you. This isn’t going to work though if you’re both constantly pretending to be different people.”

“I’m not ready to tell him…”

He hadn’t ever really told anyone he was Spider-Man intentionally. Tony had worked it out from videos. May and Ned had both found out by accident. With the rest of the Avengers there wasn’t really a formal ‘coming out’ or introductions, they just kind of worked together. He knew who all they were from years of watching them save the world, he was the spiderling that Tony had brought to Germany.

The idea of telling someone he barely knew, who hated Spider-Man, was awful. The alternative of Tim finding out by accident though was worse. He was just starting to make the tiniest bits of progress with befriending him, and he couldn’t risk losing the small amount of trust he’d been able to build up so far. The whole thing made him feel sick.

May pulled him in close.

“You don’t have to tell him right now, but have a think about it. I know you’ll do the right thing.”

He hated when she said that. But he always ended up doing it anyway.

—

Tim ended up sleeping late. Peter had left the blinds closed for him. He could faintly hear him talking to May, but he couldn’t make out the words. He still felt slightly drowsy, if he wanted to then he could maybe slip back to sleep. He probably shouldn’t. Sleeping for an entire day was reserved for when he’d completed a case or the first day of vacation. The case was still ongoing.

Reluctantly, he rolled of bed and stretched, relaxing as each of his joints cracked and popped. He dreaded having to rebuild his strength when he got home, he’d definitely be feeling this long gap from training. He could take in Peter’s room properly now it wasn’t as dark. In the dark, he hadn’t been able to see that most of the pictures on the walls were actually newspaper clippings, mostly about Spider-Man and Iron Man. There was a selfie of Peter with Tony Stark taken in a car. Peter looked younger there, it must be from the early days of his internship. There were post it notes almost everywhere, mostly covered in bad puns. A few traces of Sharpie on the walls where Peter had clearly stuck the note up then written on it. Tim didn’t mean to snoop, but he couldn’t turn off his curiosity.

…ber….hyphen…

Fight…a….der

…menace

All the…..spinners

….acid….len…carbon…potass…ethyl…

There were the remains of crumpled notes in Peters trash can, had he pulled these ones down for a specific reason? Or were they just no longer needed?

The wall calander was packed full of deadlines for school and Stark, and there were little webs and spiders doodled in the corners of most of the days as well. There was never a spider on the days where Peter had written that he was helping May at Feast, but otherwise there didn’t seem to be a pattern to it.

It sort of reminded him of his own room, back when he was younger. The days when Dick and Jason had been Robin. He’d kept notes of when Batman and Robin would likely be out on patrol and their usual routes, his walls had been collaged with newspaper articles and pictures he’d taken. He’d kept all of his Bruce Wayne memorabelia seperate, in case a maid while cleaning noticed anything. He wasn’t going to risk exposing Batman because someone else saw pictures of the two side by side, with the imposing physique and tense jawline.

May and Peter were clearly close to Spider-Man for him to help at their shelter. Spider-Man was present in almost every room. It was unlikely that Spider-Man was anyone recogniseable or important, he conducted himself too casually while out on the streets. But there was a chance that Peter might have tucked away a folder of things related to his other identity. His eyes drifted over to the closet, a tool box in front of the doors to keep it propped shut. Trying to find out Spider-Mans identity would be the ultimate betrayel, but Spider-Man had already betrayed him. He’d be evening the score.

It was almost as though Peter could hear this thought as the very moment he’d decided to open the closet, the bedroom door swung open. It slammed into the wall behind it, adding to an existing hole when the handle made contact.

“I thought you were awake!” Peter said far too quickly, he seemed almost panicked. Tim struggled to process his sudden apperance while he was still waking up.

“Yeah…” Tim said. Intelligantly.

“May made breakfast, are you hungry?”

Tim nodded, following Peter. Honestly, he wasn’t hungry, he felt a bit sick, but he knew he hadn’t been eating enough recently. He needed to eat some actual food.

At home, when Alfred made breakfast you could expect protein pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausages. They could help themselves to cereal, fruit and oatmeal. There would be tea, coffee and orange juice. At the shelter, he’d mostly eaten toast and apples that tasted like they had been coated in wax. Mays makeshift continental breakfast wasn’t like any he’d seen before.

From the empty boxes on the counter, it looked like she’d used an entire grocery stores worth of poptarts. The cereal was entirely sugar, nothing like the high fibre granolas Alfred would set out for them. Peter was spreading peanut butter and marshmallow fluff on his toast. It was the sort of breakfast a kid would lay out if they’d been given control of the grocery shopping. The idea of so much sugar in the morning made him feel ill.

“Hey Tim, did you sleep alright?” May asked and he nodded again. She was drinking coffee from a Worlds Best Grandpa mug as she slipped even more poptarts into the toaster. She rolled her eyes over to Peter “That kids a bottomless pit, so we just kind of try and cram him full of as much food as possible. Did you want anything?”

“I’m growing.” Peter defended, his lips sticky with his gross toast combination. The t-shirt and boxers that Peter had slept in showed off more of physique than his usual jeans and hoodie. He was definitely lean, but his muscles were strong and defined. He looked almost like a young Dick. You didn’t get muscles like that eating junk food and working in a lab, a body like that took work. A strict diet, training and years of patrol. They were functional muscles, not aesthetic.

“Coffee?” He asked, his voice still a little rough from sleep.

“Clean mugs next to the sink, help yourself.”

None of the mugs matched. He ended up choosing one that featured a rat on a skateboard and the slogan ‘Totally Ratical!’

“What time is it?” He asked, filling it up from the coffee pot. He took an experimental sip and was thrilled that this was his first cup of coffee in this world that hadn’t just tasted of pure dirt.

“About 10:30. I called Pete’s school and Tony to say he has ‘food poisoning’, and then I signed off work to ‘look after’ him. That just gives us a bit more freedom on how we spend the day.”

Translation: We’ve both taken the day off to keep an eye on you and work out a plan of action.

He gave a nod, sitting down across from Peter and helping himself to an over ripe banana from the fruit bowl. He didn’t know how long they had both been awake, what information they could have shared.

He supposed he hadn’t really told May anything that clashed with what he’d told Peter? He’d hinted before at some sort of family problems, but he’d let Peter believe that they were caused by the Blip. He could still lean into the story that he was a runaway rather than brought across dimmensions against his will with a whole bunch of bad guys, including their favourite hero, looking for him.

He was struggling with his banana, picking off bite sized pieces and chewing them into mush.

“Do we want to get the awkward conversations out of the way, or wait until after breakfast?” May asked, sitting down with a plate of Frosted Blueberry Poptarts that turned Tims stomach. It was definitely the poptarts making him feel sick. Not nerves about the oncoming interrorgation.

“We can talk now.” Tim said, shredding his banana peel to avoid looking at May

“I promise, we’re not planning to interrorgate you. But if you’re going to stay with us, we just need to work out a reasonable cover story, one that Tony won’t dig too deeply into.”

Again with trying to keep things from Tony Stark. Why?

“Why would Tony have an issue with me being here?” He asked quietly

“Tony’s…Overprotective.” Peter grimaced “If we don’t give him anything to go on, he’s probably going to try and run a full background check on you. He’ll probably just be worried you’re like the son of some tech company that was rejected from the expo, or trying to manipulate me or whatever for company secrets.”

“But how do you know that I’m not trying to do that?” Tim pressed. Peter already knew he’d lied about being on a field trip and he hadn’t provided an alterntive explanation for being in New York. He’d been pushy yesterday to visit Stark and they had spoken almost exclusively about the expo and its attendees. Peter must know something in order to keep trusting him. He was already fidgety, looking to May for reassurance.

“Are you?” May asked, but she was smiling, which just made him feel more frustrated. None of this was a game.

“No, but I could be. I don’t know why you’d want to stop Tony from checking.”

“Do you…Want Tony to do a background check?” Peter asked, looking so incredibly confused now

“No! But I don’t know why you don’t want him to!”

He was being too snappy far too early in the morning. He took a deep breath. He couldn’t risk messing this all up more than he had already.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered

“You’re okay.” Peter said quietly “It’s more to do with me than you. I hate feeling like I constantly have to prove to Tony that I know what I’m doing, and that I can be responsible and make my own choices. I don’t need him to do everything for me, and he’s not always right.”

Tim was all too familar with that feeling. He hated more than anything when Bruce or Dick made big decisions for him or doubted his judgement without understanding the full situation. Peter may only be an intern, but he wasn’t stupid, and it sounded like Tony liked to get involved in his personal life as much as his work.

“That…Makes sense.” Tim admitted. Something still felt off, but he could accept this explanation for now.

“The easiest thing is probably if we go back to saying you’re here for a field trip and school stuff. Kids come from out of town every year for the expo, so it’s not really worth looking into.” Peter said

“I have some college friends in New Jersey, I can easily say you’re their son. It would just make sense to invite you to stay to save them from paying rent somewhere.”

May and Peter had been thinking about this a lot before Tim woke up. Peter was still looking uncomfortable.

“You have another question.” Tim prompted

“Well…Ned and I….Looked you up before. And we couldn’t find anything on you. So we were wondering if maybe you were using a different name while you were staying in the city? If you have like any records under that name, it’ll be easier for us to make you seem like a real person.”

Tim hadn’t told Peter his full name, he’d only revealed that to May. Peter must have tried to search him using facial recognition software. He didn’t like that. He also didn’t like revealing any of his identities. But he didn’t really have a good excuse not to, especially if it helped to prevent Stark from looking at him too closely.

“I’ve been staying at a shelter in Brooklyn. I applied for some identification documents under the name Alvin Draper, and I have a library card under that name as well. There’s a backlog though from the Blip so I don’t have anything really, but that name should be in the system.”

“Alvin, like the chipmunk?” Peter said. It was nice that someone could find some humour in this totally awful situation.

“No. My dad didn’t like my ex-girlfriend so I sort of dated her under a fake name for a while. Long story. It was just my first thought when I came here and needed a name fast.”

“Are you okay with still using that name?” May said. Tim shrugged. Alvin Draper in this case was just a fake name, it wasn’t forcing himself to be another person.

“It’s fine.”

“Ned and I can probably use that to make you a false school record.” Peter saod, reaching for his phone

“Wait you want me to go to your school? I can’t go to your school.”

There were so many reasons that was a bad idea. The last thing he needed was to keep making more records that he existed here for Strange and Green Goblin to track. Plus, Peter was at least one grade below him. He was going to be wasting so much time working for a high school diploma in a world he didn’t plan on staying in…

“Do you know exactly how long you’re staying in New York?” May asked, far too politely. She already knew he didn’t. He didn’t know how, but she knew. “If you end up spending any length of time in the city, it’s going to start looking suspicious if you don’t attend school. It’ll also make it easier to go to Stark Industries with Peter if you’re attending a technology school.”

“I’m a senior…” Tim muttered, as though this would make any difference.

“It’s easier if you join the sophomore class, otherwise they’ll be pushing you about college. And it means you could be in the same classes as me and Ned so we can help you find your feet.”

“Super…”

“It’s our second time doing sophomore year as well, if you just let the teachers know you blipped then they don’t mind too much if you space out a bit. I’ll tell Ned to come over after school and we can get you set up.”

“And your school isn’t going to be at all suspicious about a random transfer, in May?”

“If it checks out on the system, they’ll let it pass. Everyone’s records are a mess, they still haven’t fixed the student emails. I have to log into two different accounts depending on if I have the same teacher as I did before the blip. But if they aren’t asking questions then Tony is a lot less likely to.”

“I don’t have any school stuff.”

“We can take care of that.”

Tim was out of excuses. It seemed that free bed and breakfast was more expensive than he’d realised.

“Why are you so determined to help me? Won’t you get in major trouble if you’re caught?”

Peter seemed genuinly taken aback by this concern

“If you can help someone, why wouldn’t you?”

—

Jason didn’t flinch when he heard someone land behind him. He’d long ago learned how to tell apart the different members of the family. The perfect light landing on the balls of his feet without any scuffling for balance could only be Dick.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Jason asked. The sun had already started to rise, illuminating Crime Alley below them.

“I just came back out from the cave.” Dick said, as though this was all the explanation he needed to give. His voice was unusually cold.

He was pissed.

“And you decided to come all the way back out here to say hi?”

“You took Red Robins suit.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.

Jason turned around, seeing the fuming Nightwing before him. He hadn’t been scared of Nightwing in years, and he wasn’t scared now.

“So what?”

“Tell us where it is. Batmans furious, you’re lucky it’s me here instead of him.”

“I haven’t done anything with it. You’ll get it back when he comes back.” Jason said matter of factly, shoving his hands in his pockets. He could guarantee when the Bat did catch up with him, he was going to end up with black eye. If he was lucky.

“I thought that you two were doing okay now. Why would you do this? We’re all so overwhelmed right now and you couldn’t handle it not being about you?”

“Like you’re one to talk. All that bullshit about it being your fault if anyone dies in a Robin costume one day because it’s ‘your legacy’ and the next you’re marking half of Gothams kids with the R so Strange knows exactly who to go after next.”

“He’s not just going after anyone who wears a Robin costume. He left Steph…”

“You think that makes it any better? You might all be happy to let him keep making the same mistakes but I’m not.”

“This isn’t about you…”

“I fucking know it isn’t. It’s about some sicko targetting kids to get at Batman, because Batman keeps sending kids out on the street to fight lunatics in tights and masks!”

Dick took a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

“We’re all trying to give you space right now, but you have to give us back Tim’s suit.”

“Tim can get it himself when he gets back.”

“You can’t just take away his suit…”

“Why not? You’ve done it before.”

Dick faltered.

“That’s unfair.” He said quietly. The whites of his mask hiding his eyes, but not his entire expression. Jason could see how his jaw tightened at the reminder that it had been him, almost a year ago, who had stripped Tim of Robin mantle and replaced him with Damian.

“Tim isn’t coming home to a memorial shrine.” Jason said firmly.

“We haven’t made a shrine for him, it’s not like with you. We buried you! Batman has a theory about where Tim is, we’re working on it…”

“And when you bring him back, he’ll get his suit back.” Jason approached slowly “But I’m not letting Tim come back to be a disapointment in comparison to whatever fucked up rose tinted version Batman is currently mourning.”

“What are you on about?”

“You know exactly what I’m on about. He does this shit with everyone who dies. He just remembers how wonderful you were, and if you ever did anything bad, well that was his fault and he get to be all broody about it. Right now he’s all sentimental about how Tim was always there, always the smart one who did what he was told and knew the answers to everything. The one who was always ready to pull him back when the darkness swallowed him.”

“Tim has more than proved himself…”

“None of us are perfect, Dick. Tim’s a control freak who treats his real life as a secret identity, and only lets himself exist in a costume. If he doesn’t get his way, then he runs off solo until he’s ready to prove that we’re all stupid and should just listen to him as gospel. He’s a workaholic. And he’s a fucking teenager who decided to surrender to a mad man rather than risk Batman being mad at him for fighting at school.”

“And you’re an asshole throwing a tantrum.”

“Maybe I am.”

The two stood glaring at each other. Dick broke first. Whenever Dick stopped the fight, you knew you’d lost because he’d decided it wasn’t worth it anymore and you couldn’t pull him back.

“I just want to check, this is about your unresolved Batman issues, and isn’t anything to do with Tim himself?” Dick asked, trying to keep his tone controlled. Always the perfect golden boy.

“Sure, it’s just Batman Trauma.”

“Fine. But if you damage that suit in any way, then you’re going to pay for it.”

“It’s safe.”

Dick sighed. As he released the breath, the anger left him He didn’t have it in him to keep up another fight when the whole city was still against them. Jason almost wished he would get more riled up, there was something so annoying about watching him try and be the glue keeping the family together, always reluctant to push any of them too far away. But he could never maintain his anger at Dick either, especially not over things like this. They’d had too many arguments over the years, they saved the real fights for things that actually mattered.

“You said B has a lead on where he is?” Jason asked, Dick nodded

“It’s not much to be honest. Just more to do with those weird storms.” Dick reached for his phone, searching through the photos “There was one the other day, here.”

Jason took the phone and zoomed in on the picture. Coming almost out of thin air, was an arm. The owner must be wearing some sort of red super suit, and it was clear they’d tried to punch something. The whole thing looked slightly blurred and distorted.

“You think that’s Tims arm?” He asked

“No, of course not. But look closer, there’s a guy there as well, just not as clear. It was more obvious in person.”

Jason looked again, and just behind the arm, there was the faint silouette of a man. It looked almost like he’d been painted over, a ghost of a figure who wasn’t supposed to be seen, balanced on some sort of winged contraption.

“Who the fuck is that?”

“We don’t know yet. But the current theory is that these storms link to another world, and that’s where these guys are. And since Tim went missing during a storm like that, he’s probably on the other side.”

“Why the fuck would Strange want to send him to another world?”

“I guess the main thing is it’s hard for Batman to get him back, and hard for Tim to make his own way home.”

“Is Strange even still here in our world?” Jason demanded, the rage beginning to rise. He’d spent the last few weeks trying to find a guy who might not even be in their dimmension. It felt like a sick joke to openly declare a war against them, then vanish somewhere they couldn’t follow.

“We think so, we’ve still been getting those weird storms, we just haven’t been able to track him down.” Dick pocketed his phone again and crouched down on the edge of the building, eyes focused on the streets below “Batman thinks that his next target was Damian, but that’s been thrown off. We think Strange expected that he’d try and put Damian under house arrest at the manor and keep him secured there. I don’t think he expected Bruce to ship him off to Metropolis within 24 hours, where he’s under the watchful eye of two Kryptonians and their dog. The fact Damian hasn’t been able to make it back to Gotham yet should give you an idea on how well protected he is.”

“I’m kind of disapointed actually that he hadn’t managed to break out yet…” Jason smirked, and Dick smiled back

“Oh he’s trying, believe me. He was very angry on our call last night because Jon keeps trying to hold his hand at school and following him into the bathroom to stop him bolting. Jon’s just terrified about what Batman would do to him if he failed to keep Damian safe.”

“That poor kid. So if he’s giving up on Damian, who does Batman think Strange is going for next?” Jason asked. Dick kept his gazed focused downwards, trying to stall having to answer.

“One of us.”

“Which one of us first though?”

The silence seemed to last an eternity

“You.” Dick finally said softly “People notice when Red Hood starts to go rogue, seperate from Batman. Bruce thinks that Strange will go for you next while you’re still fighting with each other, and then Bruce will spiral because he couldn’t fix your relationship and then you were taken away from him again.”

“Good to know that I can still give the guy another mental breakdown and a few more grey hairs…” Jason muttered. He didn’t like the idea at all of being reduced to causing Bruce pain. He preferred to do that on his own terms. He also hated the idea of Bruce viewing the rift in the relationship as just another weakness that Strange would try and exploit, rather than something he should actually try and address in person.

“Even if you don’t bring Tim’s suit with you, you could come back to the cave. Or the Belfry. The extra kids aren’t really serving as Robin, it’s more just making sure they’re seen out there. It gives the impression that Batman is still everywhere and it’s harder to keep track of which of us are actually on patrol. I’m sure they could all learn a lot from you.” Dick said hopefully

“Strange is still going to come after me if I go back and play happy families with you guys. If he’s coming anyway, I’m facing him on my own terms.”

He wasn’t going to let Batman try and talk him down from shooting the lunatic in the head first chance he got. He certainly wasn’t going to train a bunch of teenagers how to die for their city.

“I knew you’d say that…Just, remember the door is always open for you, okay? And please, if you need anything, contact us. We can help.”

“Yeah yeah, I’ll send up the Batsignal next time I need a 12 year old to fight for me.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.” Dick stood, preparing his grapple “Oh and call Alfred and apologise about Tim’s suit. It’s your business if you want to make Bruce mad, but you’re messing with all of us when you upset Alfred.”

“Sure thing, I’ll make sure to sound very sorry.” Jason muttered, waving for Dick to go.

Dick swung gracefully off the rooftops, a brief moment of flight between each grapple where his arms were spread wide, his feet pointed and his back arched perfectly before he’d send out his next swing. Strange would be a fool to prioritise Red Hood over Nightwing. If he really wanted to take down Batman, then it was the first Robin, the older brother they all couldn’t help but rely upon, who’s disappearance would truly rip them apart.

Chapter Text

Peter was staying behind for the shopping trip, to clean up his room apparently and make space for Tim’s new belongings in his closet. Tim was certain that Peter was also planning to hide things that he didn’t want the guy he’d picked up off the street seeing. Peter did offer to pay for his school supplies though, which he was grateful for. He only had a couple of hundred dollars in his wallet, and he wasn’t planning to part with them unless he had to.

“I have a card from Tony, in case I need anything. New clothes and school stuff aren’t going to flag as an unnusual purchase.” Peter had explained, trying to be casual but clearly self concious. He probably didn’t use this card at all unless he had to. Which was stupid. Tim hadn’t had the chance yet to personally go through Tony Stark’s personal finances, but he had spent years taking from Bruce Wayne’s as needed. He doubted that Tony Stark would even notice a purchase had been made unless Tim made a specific effort to go overboard.

Which would be hard to do when May took him to Target. He supposed it made sense as they could buy clothes and pencils in one place, but when a billionaire was paying it felt like such a waste to choose ‘Three for Two’ shirts. May thankfully didn’t ask any awkward questions when he chose only on long sleeved shirts, and he finally managed to get a new hoodie. Plain blue. It was such a relief not to have to dress like a tourist anymore. He didn’t think that any sort of disguise would actually help him to avoid Green Goblin or Strange, but he felt more comfortable after he’d had his hair cropped short and had convinced May to buy him a pair of reading glasses. His hair had needed a trim before he came to New York and had been hanging almost at his chin unless he tied it back, and especially with how little he’d been showering recently, it had been a really bad look.

It felt weird being out with another person, having to keep track of where she was, making sure that he responded when she spoke to him. It seemed such a long time ago that going somewhere with a friend or family member had been normal. He kept having to remind himself how to do it correctly.

It was surprising how much Avengers merchandise there was. In places like D.C, Central City and Metropolis you would find more hero merch, but in Gotham it was always a bit risky. You never knew when some maniac would hold up the subway and if he did, you didn’t want to be wearing a Bat. The I Am Robin movement had caused basically everything red, green and yellow to be pulled from stores in order to stop encouraging kids to to join the masked vigillantes on the streets.

He wondered vaguely what the halloween decorations here were like. Did they have to be careful about putting spiderwebs over their door frames in case a local gang thought they were associated with the web slinger? Hopefully he wouldn’t still be here in October to find out, but he might be able to ask Peter about it.

No one seemed to be scared about showing a preference for any of the specific heroes here though. Tim could recognise a few of them from his initial searches into this world such as Hulk and Captain Marvel (No relation Shazam), and of course Spider-Man and Iron Man. But there were more than he’d realised.

“Just checking, is there a wrong answer for a favourite hero in the New York school system?” He asked May, who seemed to think about it carefully

“I’d maybe avoid saying your favourite is anyone who died, that’s a real conversation killer.”

Helpful. Though hopefully Target had enough taste not to put dead people’s faces on pencil cases. But if this was anything like home, having a favourite hero was as important as having a favourite sports team. His eyes glazed over all the unfamilar suits and faces. None of his family seemed to be represented here, they didn’t even seem to have counterparts. He picked up a pack of pens with a knock off Green Arrow on them. There was thankfully a little bio on the back explaining that Hawkeye was a ‘a skilled marksman, former member of S.H.I.E.L.D and a founding Avenger’.

Next time anyone in the Justice League tried to poke fun at Batarangs and Batmobiles, he was going to let them know that the alternative was endless acronyms.

“Thoughts?”

“Kind of a lowkey choice, he’s sort of…mysterious? Long distance attacks and such, stays on the downlow outside of battle.” May said simply. But she didn’t say anything bad about him. Nothing about him being arrogant or reckless or previously an assasin.

“Mysterious is cool.”

He ended up choosing a normal pack of pens, but he did end up grabbing a Hawkeye keyring for his new, Non New York Loving backpack and a Hawkeye notebook. They made for easy conversation starters so he didn’t have to delve into lying about his family straight away. He would have to do some more research on the hero later on, both to ensure that he could pass as a genuine fanboy and to make sure that Hawkeye hadn’t done anything awful in the past.

“I’m guessing Spider-Man is your favourite?” He asked May, looking at the wall that seemed almost exclusively devoted to him. He didn’t like having so many masked faces watching him walk down the aisle.

“I kind of know the guy, so it would feels kind of weird to say that. On a personal level, of course he’s my favourite. But if I was going to buy a t-shirt with a heroes face on it, I like Ant-Man.”

“What can he do?”

“Mostly change his size, but he can talk to ants as well.”

“Does Spider-Man talk to spiders?”

May paused for a minute, thinking carefully

“You know what? I’ve never asked him. But it would make sense. I’ll have to find out.”

“Jamerson thinks he can, he’s going to coax the spiders up through the drains and invade our homes.” Tim said in mock-sincerity, and May burst out laughing

“Oh I love his theories, they just keep getting crazier. My favourite is that Spider-Man bites people to control their brains. His suit doesn’t even had a space for his mouth to open, how he is biting people?”

“You’ll have to find out. In the meantime, wear lots of peppermint and cinnamon scentred things. Spiders hate them.”

“That also makes a lot of sense…”

When they were picking out some toiletries, May picked up strawberry and bubblegum flavoured toothpaste.

—

Ned called off school with food poisoning as well, apparently they had all eaten the same bad Thai. He was sat at Peter’s desk, paving the way for Tim’s new false identity. Tim had insisted that he could do it if they just let him borrow a computer, but they needed him out of the apartment. Plus, no one wanted him clicking around on any devices that had information about Spider-Man on them.

“Knowing that May is right doesn’t make any of it easier.” Peter muttered, flopping back on the floor and watching the Spider-Bots explore the ceiling. They had Heidi’s tracking up on Ned’s phone, so Tim’s arrival wouldn’t take them off guard. The room was currently in the worst stage of organising where it looks much worse than it did at the start, and it’s hard to trust the process. At least most of his Spider-man gear was safely tucked away in the hidden panel above his closet.

“Have you decided how you’re going to tell him yet?” Ned asked, not looking away from his screen

“He hates me, or at least Spider-Man. If I tell him in the wrong way, he’s going to bolt. And then if Stephen or Green Goblin pick him up, there’s going to be serious trouble.”

“Well what are your thoughts on him so far?”

They had cleared a drawer for Tim in the dresser, and the belongings from his backpack fit in easily. There was his staff, mask, some first aid supplies and a small selection of clothes. Tim’s poor camera had clearly seen some better days since it’s dip in the river, but Tim had the sense to remove the batteries while it dried out. They’d left it to further dry on the desk, hoping they might be able to coax it back to life later.

It seemed that Tim hadn’t been lying before when he said he didn’t have a phone. The one in his bag looked at least 10 years old and was out of power. Peter, Ned and Karen had all been unsuccessful in finding anything about Wayne Tech as a phone manufactoring company. The charging socket was odd, and they had no idea what the voltage was like back where Tim was from. They’d need his cooperation if they were going to work together on trying to rescurrect it.

Tim had also left his new phone behind, after spending most of the morning trying to disable every form of AI and tracking that he could find, and fiddling around with adding VPNs and additional security.

“He’s suspicious of basically everything, which makes sense. He seems to like May and she likes him so that’s a bonus I guess? Apparently he spoke to her about his family, so he’s probably missing them a lot. I don’t think he’s bad, but he’s not really that friendly at the moment.” Peter said finally

“He seemed friendly enough yesterday, well before…”

“Yeah but that was because he wanted the expo passes. He was only nice to us because we could help him with what he wanted. We still know like nothing about him. I don’t know how to ask him about himself without him straight up lying to me like before, or scaring him off.”

“So we keep it low pressure, no big deal. You learn about him, he learns about you, we play some board games, watch some movies. Bonding stuff. Just talk to him like a normal person.”

Peter gave Ned a serious side eye

“When are either of us good at talking to normal people?”

“It’s okay because he isn’t normal either, and he has no idea what normal in this world is.” Ned said confidently

Peter hurried back up to his feet

“Dude. At school, we need to make sure that he doesn’t stand out as being from another universe. We don’t know how different his world is.”

“Dude. MJ’s gonna notice straight away if he like, doesn’t know when the War of Independance was.”

“We might have a monarch in his world.”

“They might be ruled by bats.”

“Okay. So. The plan. Board games. Movie night. Exchange secret identity information. Find out whether or not his universe is totally insane and how worried we need to be for monday. What are we going to do about the bat things if we have to go outside during school?”

“Thought of that. He’s asthmatic and the pollution can trigger an attack so he has to stay inside.” Ned grinned, flicking to the page that showed ‘Alvin Drapers’ student information.

“Awesome."

"And if anyone tries to say anything about him being weird or not knowing anything, we can remind them he's from New Jersey. Jersey sucks."

"I know why I wouldn't go to Jersey, but I kinda wonder why he hasn't tried to go back. I mean, if I was brought to another world, I'd still try and go back to New York, try and find another version of you or Tony."

"I have a theory on that, hold on..." Ned went back to the library records, pulling up Tim's search history "So on the same day he met you, he did seem to really go to the library. So his first searches were his own name, he searched Tim Drake first so I guess that's what he uses the most. Then he looked up a bunch of normal names like Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd....then theres Batman, Nightwing, Robin...Robin Superhero...Justice League...I don't think we have anyone from where he's from here."

"Oh shit...That would seriously suck..." Peter said, something dawning on him. He dashed back to the drawer where they had put Tim’s belongings, pulling out his old phone. He put it down on the desk and pointed at the logo stamped on the back

“Wayne Tech. Timothy Wayne, Bruce Wayne, he’s got to the son of like his universes Tony Stark. That’s why he has such powerful Rich Kid energy. Maybe Goblin wants him because of the tech his dad works on.”

Ned looked unconvinced, turning the phone over in his hands

“Goblin makes his own tech though, and…This isn’t like…Impressive.”

“Maybe it’s just ugly, it could be really good on the inside. If we provide the kit, maybe Tim can work out how to make a charger for it and we can get an idea if Goblin is targeting Wayne Tech, there could be company secrets or something on it.”

“If he’s a millionaire though, maybe it’s just sort of weird ransom situation.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to shoot Ned an unimpressed look

“The tech it would take to drag someone across universes, that has to cost a fortune to develop. However rich this Bruce Wayne guy is, I doubt he just has that lying around. Plus these big companies has all sorts of policies in place for if staff or their family is taken for ransom, they wouldn’t let him just chuck everything at some random guy in the hopes they bring his son back. Anyway, if they are in different universes, how are they sending the note or organising the exchange?”

They both stared at the ugly, clunky phone. Neither of them could really believe that anyone would go through the trouble of targeting a company that made and sold that sort of tech. They also knew that they couldn’t try taking it apart until Tim gave back and gave his permission.

“Maybe it’s not really about Bruce Wayne or Wayne tech…” Ned said, turning back to Tim’s library search history “His searches are all ordered in a specific way. Bruce Wayne, Batman. Richard Grayson, Nightwing. Jason Todd, Red Hood. You said he probably had a secret identity…”

They were after Batman.

Was that why Goblins drones were bat shaped? A sick play on a familar heroes symbol to draw Tim in?

The pieces began to click into place. Peter leaned over Ned’s shoulder to scroll through. Tim had probably still been panicking during his searching, or he would have made more of an effort to vary the order that he was searching the names, to avoid the connections being made. His eyes lingered on the singular familiar name.

“He searched for Dr Hugo Strange…” Peter pointed out “He didn’t go on any of the websites for Stephen. He just searched again for Hugo Strange, Psychologist. Biologist. Arkham Asylum. Professor Hugo Strange…Monster Men…”

“He doesn’t seem to exist. If you search anything for Dr Strange you just get our Dr Strange’s medical career. It doesn’t even say anything about him as an Avenger…”

“Tony gets that stuff filtered out unless you search for it directly. He has it set up for all of the Avengers here on earth.” Peter pulled on his hair and groaned “Tim thinks I’m working with this Hugo Strange guy. Why the hell are they both called Strange? What kind of stupid name is Strange anyway?”

“It’s all very Strange.” Ned joked, but his tone was flat “What are you going to do?”

Peter began to pace, skirting around the piles that were still on the floor, when something caught his eye. Still wrapped in the plastic was Monopoly: Avengers Edition. He picked it up triumphantly, pointing at the cartoon drawing of the Avengers on the front. The designers had the sense not to use a real picture of them fighting Thanos, but everyone was still recognisable.

“Strange is one of the tokens!” He said excitedly, pointing to the little plastic figure that was visible through the boxes window “We can at least let him know in Family Board Game Night that we’re not working with the same Strange! Then it’ll be easier to tell him about Spider-Man because it’s a different Strange! We don’t need to bring up any of the stuff we’ve learned until after that’s all been sorted!”

“Isn’t it better to just, tell him though? Rather than trying to be sneaky?”

Heidi on the app made a musical sound, pulling both of their attention. Tim and May were on the move.

If they were going to keep using Heidi, they’d need to find a way to move her between outfits now that Tim wasn’t guaranteed to be wearing the same thing every day.

He forced himself to focus, calling the spider-bots down from the ceiling.

“Trust me, it’s better to reveal it in a low stakes way. We don’t want to overwhelm him so he makes a break for it again. We only get one shot at this.”

“If it was me, I’d just want to be told. I hate all this secret stuff.”

“If it was me, and my secret identity had been rumbled back home, then I was dragged into another world, I’d be instantly suspicious of anyone who knew it.” Peter said, shoving everything else that was scattered around into drawers “If we start bringing up Batman and Night Hood and the rest of it, he’s going to know that we know he’s a hero, and he might think we’re after him as well. Especially if it seems we have info on where he’s from.”

“But he practically gave it to us! He told us the library details!”

Peter looked at Ned seriously.

“You didn’t see him that day. It was like when we all came back from the blip. He was lost, scared and confused. I doubt he even really remembers the specifics of what he was looking up. He would of just been looking for anything familiar. At least when we came back, it happened to all of us at the same time and we could kind of work out what happened. He’s been trying to do all of this alone.”

It made sense that Tim was used to living a double life. It felt like he was dealing with two different people in the same body. There was confident, intelligant Tim who knew what he wanted, and what he needed to do in order to get it. The Tim who lied constantly and wore a mask. It had been unnerving yesterday at Starkbucks. It felt like Tim had been waiting for them, he’d so easily brought up Peter’s work with Stark and the expo, leading him into a situation where he almost had no choice but to extend an invitation. Even though that had been part of his plan to begin with, he hadn’t liked having it thrust upon him like that. Then there had been the look in Tim’s eyes when he was offered the Stark Brand phone, Richard. When his attempts at declining hadn’t worked, he seemed to be running every possible alternative. With the phone, he hadn’t accepted defeat. He’d just decided to act later. The whole interaction had only taken a few seconds, not even long enough to stand out as odd in the moment, but Tim was clearly used to thinking on his feet.

But then there was the other Tim. The one he’d met on the street that first day, or taking pictures of pigeons in Central Park. The one who had been so scared yesterday in Stark Industries and who had practically collapsed against May. That was the Tim who ran for the library.

If he stood any chance of getting Tim to accept his help, he needed to reach out to that side of him. The part that knew he couldn’t handle everything on his own, no matter how clever he was.

And if it was easier to tell a slightly more vulnerable Tim his own secret, then that was just a bonus.

--

Tim could tell that something was up almost as soon as he walked through the door. The small apartment didn't provide many hiding places. Peter and Ned had even more anxious energy than usual. Considering he'd insisted on staying behind to 'tidy', everything looked messier than when they had left with a new pile of clothes next to the laundry hamper.

"We cleared a drawer for you, so you have somewhere to put your stuff." Peter said, showing it off. Tim tried to shove down down the territorial part of him that didn’t like having his stuff messed with. He hadn’t specifically told them to leave his backpack alone, he’d just assumed that they would.

"Thank you." He managed to say, checking over if everything seemed to be there. Peter had even tucked his mask and phone under his t-shirts. He wasn't sure he liked the drawer. It felt too permanent. Like he was putting down roots and making a life here. It felt like the drawer, and all the new supplies were coming together to say ‘You live here now.”

"Make sure you try everything on again before putting it away." May reminded him as she dropped off the rest of the bags

"Sure, will do.”

He didn’t want to look at any of it right now.

“We have something fun planned.” Peter said, leading the way to the dining table where Ned was surrounded by board game boxes, bowls of chips and cans of soda.

“We’re going to pick games youngest to oldest, so I’m first, then Peter, then Tim and then May. Then if we really don’t feel like sleeping we can go round again.” Ned explained with a grin

“Are we enforcing a time limit?” May asked, who had fetched herself a glass of wine from the kitchen instead of soda.

“I think if a game goes over two hours, we have a vote about whether to continue.” Peter proposed

“But the people who are losing are going to end it.” Tim protested “If a game ends early because of a vote, the winner should get to assign forfeits.”

“Feeling confident are we?” May said, and Tim just smiled. Board games had become a staple of the manor in recent years, a way for them all to unwind and spend time together outside of costume. It was fun, and cut throat competitive.

Ned picked Jenga. The first round they all tackled the tower (May brought it down) then they progressed to a tournament style game. Peter won against May, and Tim won against Ned.

Peter vs Tim ended up being a long, serious match. Tim focused upon trying to maintain the towers balance, while Peter was trying to leave it unstable for Tims next move and remove the safe options. They both grew quieter as the tower became more and more precarious.

Eventually, Peter was the one who caused it to topple as he removed one of the few remaining lower pieces. Peter buried his face in his hands as Tim grinned and held out his hand

“Good game.” He said as they shook

“I’ll get you next time.” Peter promised

Ned started putting the Jenga blocks back in their box, as Peter pulled the plastic wrapping off Avengers: Monopoly

“Is it the same as normal Monopoly?” Tim asked, eyeing the box apprehensively. This game was banned in the Wayne household for very good reason. People who regularly threw batarangs were well placed to roll the dice onto their preferred numbers and sweep the board. It would be just his luck if in this world, Monopoly had some messed up rule like you wanted to spend all your money as fast as possible and the winner was the first person to have no money or properties.

Though he supposed if that was the case, then Peter would insist it was normal.

“The street names are different and so are the tokens, but other than that it’s all the same as usual.” Peter said, laying out the board and beginning to busy himself with unwrapping the chance and community chest cards.

Instead of being set in Metropolis, this board was set in New York. The utilities were Avengers Tower and Stark Industries, and instead of Free Parking/Central Park there was Avengers Compund.

Considering that Peter was the one who had suggested this game, he seemed overly anxious. Tim sat on edge as he started playing down the plastic figures in the centre of the board, pointing at each of them as he named them.

“Okay so our options are Iron Man, Smart Hulk, Thor, Doctor Stange, Falcon, Wasp, Spider-Man and Captain Marvel.”

Peter had hesitated before saying Dr Strange. Tim struggled to contain his flinch, his eyes shooting to meet Peters.

He knew.

Peter knew.

Peter, who worked with Tony Stark who famously kitted out Spider-Man. Who volenteered at his aunts homeless shelter that used Spider-Man as their poster boy. Peter, who claimed to be a lab nerd but moved lightly on his feet and had impossible reflexes. Who seemed to hear movement from across the apartment.

Peter, who just so happened to always be in the right place at the right time. Who’d encouraged him to give up the names he’d been using here and start making his existance in this world official.

Peter Parker was Spider-Man.

Tims heart hammered in his chest. He didn’t know how they’d react if they knew that he knew. Would Peter try and restrain him and call Strange here? The way Spider-Man stuck to walls and could move parked cars with his bare hands, he was clearly a meta. If it came to a hand to hand fight, especially unarmed, Tim wasn’t hopeful about his chances. Spider-Man was stronger and faster than him, with the benefit of custom technology that enhanced his abilities. Tim was still recovering from weeks of poor sleep and nutrition with only a bo staff, that wasn’t even in the room with him. He’d let himself become sloppy.

They were all watching him carefully. Gagueing his reaction. They All Knew.

“What do you want from me?” Tim hissed. Peters hands were lying flat on the table, trying to appear harmless.

“We need to talk, there’s a lot you don’t understand…” Peter pleaded “Doctor Strange, Stephen, he’s…”

“A lunatic.” Tim spat “I don’t know what he’s told you…”

“It’s a different Doctor Strange! In our universe he’s a wizard and an Avenger, he protects our reality!” Peter desperately held up a little character card, featuring a tall slender man with brown and white hair and a red cape. “Please, we want to help, really.”

“If you trust him so much, why have you been trying to hide that you found me? You’ve all been working hard to try and make me comfortable, while helping to set up false names and identities for me, hiding me from known Avengers. Why?” Tim was slowly rising to his feet, testing to see if they would let him. Ned and May stayed still, but Peter tensed. If Tim bolted, he was sure to try and stop him.

“Strange deals with magic, whatever brought you here is different and he doesn’t understand it. I worried that if we just sent you over to him, he’d just try and send you back and something might go wrong and you’d get hurt.”

“So you don’t trust him.”

“I do! I just…Don’t always like his methods? Please, we do want to help.”

“What about Tony Stark? Do you think he’ll just want to get rid of me as well?”

They way they all looked at each other, he knew he’d hit the nail on the head.

“Tony’s retired and has a family, he just doesn’t want to deal with a world-ending issue right now. He doesn’t particularly want me involved either and just kind of wants to let Strange handle it.”

“Which none of you trust him to do.” He was trembling with rage by this point. Even if this was a different Dr Strange, he didn’t sound any more sane. “What to you know?”

“Honestly we’ve just been piecing things together, we don’t really know anything and it’s mostly guess work.” Ned started babbling “There’s been all these freaky storms, and Strange said that they were to do with another dimmension and that someone had been dragged through. Then Peter, as Spider-Man, kept seeing this masked guy everywhere and was like ‘This guys probably a hero in his own world and bad guys are after him!’ Then Green Goblin was calling you Timothy Wayne, and your phone is Wayne Tech and you googled Bruce Wayne at the library so we were like ‘Oh it’s about the tech company!’ But your phone looks really bad so that didn’t make sense! But you also googled Batman like straight after so we were like ‘Dude! Bruce Wayne is Batman!’”

May looked lost. Tim started at Ned, shock and horror finally taking over from his fury.

He’d revealed Bruce’s identity. By being careless on a public computer. A highschooler had worked it out.

It shouldn’t matter. Bruce didn’t exist here. There was nothing that Ned could do. But he knew, because of Tim.

“Never say that out loud again.” He hissed. He couldn’t take Peter on easily, but Ned was an untrained child. Bruce would understand if it was for the sake of his identity. It was one of the most important parts of keeping his family safe.

“Hey.” May snapped, her voice pulling him back. Almost without noticing he’d begun to creep closer to Ned, and Peter had done the same, trapping the teen between the two of them. “You guys need to actually talk, and listen to each other. Stop with all this hackle raising. If you don’t sit down and start acting like adults, I’m going to grab something to use as a talking stick.”

Tim glared at her, but Peter lowered his defensive position. May cocked an eyebrow at Tim, getting up to her own feet.

“You’re a guest, and you’ve been through a lot, but that does not give you permission to start fights in our home. You need to sit back down, and we can all talk. We need to work this out together.”

Tim grudgingly lowered himself back in his seat, but he didn’t relax. He was still ready to spring up and defend himself if needed.

“Peter, floor is yours.” May said, sitting back down and gesturing towards him. Peter paled at this and anxiously tugged his hoodies sleeves over his hands as he cleared his throat.

“Right. Totally. Well um, clearing the air, I’m…Spider-Man. I’m an Avenger who’s helped to save the world a few times now, fought a giant purple alien. Been to space. I’ve been investigating the weird storms recently, mostly just trying to keep civilians away because we had no idea what we were dealing with.”

Peter earnetly tried to meet Tim’s eyes

“I genuinly didn’t know who you were at first, I promise. I thought you’d been blipped. Loads of us have had flashbacks like that at some point, I was really just trying to help out. It was only after Doctor Strange, Stephen.” He corrected himself seeing Tim flinch “Told us that we were dealing with other worlds and that someone had been dragged through, that I even started to look for you, but I didn’t know who you were then. Ned and I were trying to use the bat things to track you, because they seemed to be sent out to find you. I only realised who you were after we fought Green Goblin. I thought…We might be the same? Superheroes with secret identities. I knew I’d be really scared if someone knew mine so I was trying to find a way to tell you and that I wanted to help without…Freaking you out…” Peter sighed deeply, slumping further into his chair. Clearly thinking about how much he’d screwed this up.

“Your plan…To tell me that you knew my identity and that you were working with Dr Strange, but a different Dr Strange, was Monopoly?”

“Fun for the whole family…” Ned muttered quietly

Peter Parker was an idiot. But he was no longer posed to attack. He seemed genuinly distressed by the direction this was taking.

“I’ve never told someone my identity before, I don’t know how to do this!” Peter moaned

“I did tell him that Monopoly was a bad idea.” Ned said

“So what do you actually know about me, and why I’m here?” Tim asked

“Basically nothing. Stephen and Tony just want to send you back home as soon as possible, by any means necessary. Green Goblin wants you for some reason. It’s probably something to do with the superheroes in your world but we don’t know anything about them. I’m guessing that Batman is a bit like Iron Man? Head of the Avengers?”

“We have the Justice League, they don’t really have a set leader. But Batman is often the brains behind things. He’s probably more similar to you than anyone else, he takes care of his home city.”

“Gotham?”

Tim vowed to never used a public computer ever again.

“Yes. It doesn’t exist here. That might be part of the reason why they dragged me to this universe in particular, I couldn’t go to Batman for help. I kind of suspected that the heroes here wouldn’t be thrilled about me stumbling into their world univited, so I was trying to get an idea on who they were and gather some more information about what was happening, before approaching them.”

At least he’d been right about it not being a good idea to stroll up to Tony Stark when he arrived.

“What’s your Doctor Strange like? Why would he want you away from Batman?”

“Dr Hugo Strange is insane. He’s a psychologist who’s obsessed with Batman. Strange found out his identity before, but he’s mad and had no evidence, so no one paid it any attention. We didn’t think he even believed it anymore. He has this Monster Serum and when it infects someone it turns them into…well monsters. Big strong violent creatures that kill and destroy. He broke out of Arkham Asylum almost a year ago, but we hadn’t heard from him until he showed up at my school.”

“Did he turn the people at your school into monsters?” Ned’s eyes were wide, and Tim felt sick.

“No. He had robots and he just came after me. Batman rarely works alone, he has a partner. Robin. I used to be Robin…So he came to my school where he knew I couldn’t fight back without proving that he was right and giving up all of our identities. He threw something at me and everything hurt for a while, then I woke up under the Chrysler Building.” Instinctively his hand reached for the Thing on his right arm “I thought he was working with you, but if that’s not the case…Then I don’t know where he is. He’s probably back home targetting everyone else who’s ever been Robin.”

“How many are there?” Peter asked

“I was the third.” Tim said quietly. He didn’t like revealing all of this.

“Why did he come for you first if you were the third one? Why not the current Robin?” Peter asked “Is it because you’re Batman’s son?”

He was less of a son than Damian was. Damian was more bearable these days but he still wasn’t above throwing the blood relation card in when he wanted his own way.

“I’m adopted, it wouldn’t be that. I think it’s more to do with Green Goblin, and some things I pieced together from our conversation yesterday at Stark. I don’t know if Strange contacted him or the other way round. Strange is a mad genuis but I’ve never seen him do anything interdimmensional, I’m not sure he’d know how. Plus he normally works alone. I did wonder if maybe Calculator was involved…”

“We don’t have Calculator here.” Ned interrupted

“Of course you don’t.” Tim sighed. The information sharing here was feeling unbalanced. “He’s another evil genius, but mostly behind the scenes. Buying and selling information to villains. He was the one who organised Captain Boomerang killing my dad, my real dad, so he already knew my identity. If Green Goblin got in touch with Calculator somehow because he wanted something from my world, then Calculator could put him in touch with Strange.”

He hated the silence that followed. All of them trying to decide whether they should acknowledge the part about his dad being murdered.

“When we were talking yesterday, we spoke a lot about Oscorp.” Tim said, trying to get the conversation back on track. “Do you think that Norman Osman is Green Goblin as well?”

“W-What?” Peter stammered “Where did you get that from?”

“From our conversation yesterday. What sort of crimes does Green Goblin normally commit?”

“Violent ones. He glides out and starts killing people and destroying things. Why do you think he’s Osborne?”

“Oscorp created whatever made you Spider-man, right?”

All of the blood left Peter’s face. Ned and May turned to him in horror, checking his reaction.

Peter wasn’t kidding that he had never revealed his identity to them. They didn’t know.

“Peter…?” May asked gently, leaning across the table towards him. Peter’s hand was limp in her hand like a dead fish.

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Peter said quietly.

“I don’t want to talk about Batman.” Tim pointed out “It’s not fair if you get to keep your secrets when you’ve been digging into mine. I thought that we were finally being honest with each other.”

Peter winced.

“Tim, maybe we should stop…” May tried

“That’s not fair! I don’t care if you leave the room, whatever. But I’m not doing this where he holds all the information.”

Tims hands were gripped around the table, fighting the urge to rise to his feet again. He hadn’t known that was a secret or he might have been more tactful in how he’d said it. But now he knew there was a secret, he couldn’t just let himself brush past it. Not when it could be relevant, when Peter could have insight into how Oscorp worked and what they wanted.

May and Ned’s posture made it clear that neither of them were going to offer to leave. Tim couldn’t blame them, but he was outnumbered here. If they all decided to tell Peter he didn’t need to talk, then they couldn’t go any further together.

“Oscorp made the spider that bit me.” Peter said, so softly it was hard to hear him. Everyone stilled, their eyes glued to him. “During the Battle of New York, Ben was trying to help with evacuating Oscorp. The tower was damaged and people were trapped, so he and some other firefighters had to break down a bunch of their doors and security systems to try and get them out. He died trying to save their employees. He was a hero.”

There was a new venom in Peter’s voice, a fierceness in his eyes that Tim had never seen before

“And apparently alien and super hero attacks weren’t in Oscorps insurance policy. Or they just saw an oppertunity. So they tried to sue the firefighters who ‘damaged their property’. I saw May struggling and we didn’t have any money to fight them. They knew that. We were going to lose our home, and we couldn’t give him a proper funeral and it was just…So unfair. So I thought if I managed to steal something from Oscorp then I could sell it, then they would leave us alone and it felt like payback. I snuck in pretending to be someone’s kid. But I got lost, and an alarm went off. I tried to hide and broke the tank the spider was in and it bit me before I crushed it. I don’t even really remember much after that, I guess I managed to escape. I just remember everything just hurt a lot and then I was throwing up back home. I was sick for a few days and then I had powers.”

‘Dude…” Ned gasped

“Peter…” May’s voice was horrified, and she gripped his hand more tightly “We would have been okay…”

“We weren’t okay.”

"We would have been. I'm so sorry..."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want...I didn't want to worry you..."

There was an awful stillness as May and Peter held each others hands from across the table, the forgotten board game beneath them. Ned and Tim awkward bystanders to their grief and concern over a time that neither of them had been there for.

Peter was the first to break the hold, pulling back his arms and looking at Tim.

"You think Green Goblin is Norman Osborn?"

"Yes. Spider-Man and Green Goblin both appeared in New York around the same time. Probably because you were trying to right some of their wrongs, and he was trying to find you. The blood tests and everything, he knew he was looking for a kid and was hoping to find whatever that spider put in you through that. Osborn paying Jamerson for the photos, trying to get people invested in trying to find out who you are. It's probably less that he actually has an issue with you being a crime fighter and more he wants that work back. But it's easier to get the public on board with being anti vigilante that returning private company property."

"Peter's hardly company property, he's a person." May said firmly

"Oscorp probably doesn't view it that way. They had developed whatever was in that spider, so now they probably feel entitled to Peter to study the effects. But he can't come after you directly as Oscorp because he doesn't know who you really are, and he doesn't want to publicaly expose that a kid has side effects from something they accessed in his labs. Even if you did end up in there illegally, it doesn't make them look very good."

"And why do you think he wants you?" Peter asked

"I don't know for certain. It's just a theory. But what you were saying about Harry Osborn yesterday bothered me. How his dad apparently is phasing him out and bringing in a 'New Heir' for the company." Tim swallowed, but forced himself to continue "I've covered...For Bruce...Before at Wayne Enterprises. So I have some experiance in leading a company. Strange mentioned about getting us 'Out of Batmans Shadow' and I'm wondering if part of what he was hinting at was away from Wayne Enterprises and into something else...I think Strange wanted to weaken my family, and Osborn wanted to replace his son with someone who fit his ideals a bit better. They could both benefit if I was brought over."

"But what's Osborn going to do if he can't get you?" Peter asked

"You probably have a better idea than I do, you've actually met the guy. But he's got to be unhappy that Strange has a weakened Batman and he doesn't have anything to show for his efforts except Avengers getting involved. After your little stunt trying to draw me in with the fake storm." He looked at Peter, who glanced away embaressed "He knows that you know I'm here, and you're attempting to make contact. Logically, he'll try and make contact as well. He hasn't been able to catch me yet, so he needs to draw me into the open."

"Stay away from him." Peter said firmly

"Well I have to get close to Oscorp somehow if they have the tech that brought me here. But I want to do it on my terms, and do that I need to know more."

"Which is why you're so interested in the expo. Do you think he'll reach out then?"

"It's a good platform to. He must know I'll be interested. If he says anything too obvious about multiple worlds or interdimmensional travel that will obviously get your 'Stephen' involved, but he might try and get my attention another way."

There was a long pause, broken by May

“I think you guys need to bring Tony into this.”

“No.” All the boys said at the exact same time

“Tony and Pepper coming back to New York in a few days anyway for the expo. If he knows what’s happening, then he can help with investigating Oscorp. He has a lot more influence than any of you.” She looked directly at Peter “It’s going to be very difficult for you to help Tony with all his expo work and investigate this on the side without him getting suspicious. He’s still not happy that you apparently forgot to mention that you were having issues with your comms. If you ask for his help, then he’s less likely to force his way in once he knows what you’re up to.”

“Why not tell Tony about the spider?” Tim suggested. Peter looked at him horrified

“No. No way. I’m not doing that.”

“But it makes sense. Then he’ll want to investigate Oscorp as well to protect you, and he won’t care at all what Ned and I are up to. Tony will know the official and legal channels that we can use to find out more about what Oscorp is doing. He won’t look any further into why we want to look at Oscorp because he’ll think he already has the big secret. He’s not going to hurt you just because he gets an idea on where your powers are from. If he finds out the truth about me, we don’t know what he’s going to do.”

May was right that Tony would probably notice something was up anyway, but that was why it was so important to provide him with a distraction. The way that Peter had been so hesitant to bring Tony in convinced Tim that they shouldn’t reveal everything to him, not yet.

“Tony wouldn’t actually hurt you, Tim…” May tried to reassure him. Tim looked pointedly at Peter.

“Tony and Stephen wouldn’t intentionally…But they don’t know how Tim was brought here either…” Peter said uncomfortably.

“If Tony is also going to be much more invested in helping Peter, who he knows and cares about, than me. He’ll probably be able to look into things more throughly and quickly with that additional motivation. In the time he’s doing that, maybe I can meet him at least once. Then he’ll have that association that I’m Peter’s friend and he might be more inclined to hold off on trying to get rid of me before we know it can be done safely.”

“Tony is already going to be suspicious if a few days ago, Peter was completely focused on your problem and now he’s suddenly interested in a bite he got years ago. Just the other day Peter was desperate to remain involved despite Tony and myself asking him not to.” May pointed out

“We tell him that we think Green Goblin is Norman Osborn.” Tim said “We can say Peter got freaked out the other day when he saw him as Goblin, and was worried about having to see him at the expo. Tony can help investigate Oscorp to find out if they are involved in the spider bite and the creation of Green Goblin and his technology. While looking into that, they might be able to find information about the tech that brought me over here. We don’t have to lie about much. We can stick with the story that I’m staying with you because of the expo, and found out that Peter is Spider-man by accident. It’s happened enough times now that it won’t be suspicious. Once we have a better idea about what Oscorp is doing and have sorted out our own plan, we can fill Tony in on the remaining details.”

“It’s the first expo since the blip, I don’t want to freak Tony out and throw in a bunch of distractions.” Peter muttered

“Or tell him that you committed a crime when you were 11.” Ned said seriously

“That’s not the problem!”

“Are you worried that Stark will find a ‘cure’ for your spider powers? Or that if they start digging into the bite it will expose your identity?”

“I’m not super hyped about either of those ideas. Especially not Osborn knowing who I am if he does feel some weird claim over me, like you said.”

“I’m sure that Stark could protect you from that. He’s not going to let Osborn’s legal team touch you for breaking in or stealing their work. Everyone already knows that Spider-Man and Stark work together. Spider-Man revealing a tip about Oscorp being up to something isn’t overly suspicious. If anything, you could probely get a huge payout. It would be best to redirect something like that to Feast though so it can’t be traced back to you.”

“We’re not going after Osborns money. This isn’t about money, it’s about trying to get Tim home and keeping all of you safe. If you don’t start making plans about how you’re going to tell Tony, then I’m going to phone him up myself.” May said, reaching for her phone

“No no no no no.” Peter said desperately “We will tell Tony, I promise.”

“When?”

May had her hand posed over the screen. Any of them, expcept perhaps Ned, could have physically overpowered her. But she held the power. May was someone who got things done, and she wasn’t going to let them do this on their own.

“I’ll tell Tony about the spider.” Peter surrendered. “We’ll be able to look into Oscorp a bit more with that. Once we know for sure that they have the tech that brought Tim here, we can tell Tony about him and focus on getting him home.”

“And what if Tony works out who Tim is on his own?” May pressed

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” Peter shrugged

“I’ll be able to work out a plan for that once I have a better idea on who Stark really is, instead of his public persona.” Tim countered “But I’ll tell him myself if it’s necessary.”

It was his identity. He wasn’t going to let anyone else dictate who knew it, and how they found out anymore. Part of him felt a little guilty about risking Peter’s on behalf of protecting his own, but Peter had people here looking out for him. He had Tony Stark for protection. He’d be fine. It wasn’t even as though Spider-Mans secret identity was anything like Batmans. Batman was a myth, a creature spawned from the shadows of Gotham itself. Knowing that he was just a man beneath the mask would diminish his power. Spider-Mans power lay in being a local of his neighbourhood who loved it.

“If Tony by the end of this weekend isn’t involved, I’m telling him everything myself.” May promised, but she put her phone back in her pocket.

“We’ll tell him.” Tim promised.

Now he just had to hope that Tony Stark was as wonderful and powerful as they all seemed to believe.

Chapter Text

Peter dodged on instinct as someone small barrelled towards him as he entered the penthouse. Thankfully, she was used to this and it didn’t deter her enthusiasm.

“Peter!” She yelled, jumping at him again. This time he caught her easily and lifted her up high

“When did you get so big?” He asked, looking her over.

“I’m only this many.” She answered, shoving five sticky fingers that reeked of nail polish into his face

“Wow, that’s a lot!” Peter laughed, turning his head sideways to avoid a finger up his nostril

“How old are you?”

“How old do you think I am?”

She thought carefully, studying his face

“Twelve?”

“No! I’m sixteen!”

“Is that bigger than twelve?”

“Yes, a lot bigger.”

He carried her down the hallway, until he found Tony sat at the large breakfast bar in the kitchen, the entire counter was covered in nail polish, paper, markers and stickers. One of Tony’s new prosthetic arms sat in the centre of the mess, this one was a metallic pale pink, and seemed to have gone through quite a makeover.

“Is that for the expo?” Peter asked, smirking as he placed Morgan back down on the floor

“I’m helping Daddy with his designs.” Morgan explained, running up to grab her colouring pages, which, if you looked underneath her additions, were actually the blueprints for Tony’s latest prototypes.

“Someone still doesn’t like the new arm.” Tony explained “So we’re working on that, aren’t we?”

“It’s ugly.” Morgan said, reaching for the arm that had to be worth at least a couple of million dollars, and a fresh page of Care Bear stickers.

“You’ve made it so much prettier.”

“How is it progressing?” Peter asked, scanning the diagrams under the marker “Have you managed to fix the coordination problems you were having?”

“Not yet. It’s still too heavy compared to a natural arm, and there’s a delay with it releasing it’s grip. However we’ve come a long way with the AI for adjusting the strength it uses when picking things up. I’ve utilised your mimicry trackers AI to help it identify and adjust with the different textures…”

“Daddy, you’re being boring.”

“Sorry sweetheart.”

“Is it okay for her to just…decorate it like that?” Peter asked quietly. Obviously Tony’s Iron Man suits were incredbly hard wearing to survive battle, but the prosthetic felt different. It was a civilian item.

“It needs to survive life, which is unpredictable. So if it doesn’t work after having a manicure, thats a design flaw. Sweetheart, why don’t you go and find mommy?” Tony said, giving Morgan a peck on the top of her head “Pete and I want to chat about boring things.”

“I’m not finished, and I want Peter to draw me a spider.”

Morgan didn’t know Peter’s hero identity, he had his suspicions about how well a 5 year old could keep a secret. But she’d noticed how many of his designs featured spiders, and always demanded that he drew them for her.

“I need to chat with your dad for a bit Mo, but when we’re done I’ll draw you as many spiders as you like.” Peter promised

She thought about it carefully

“Don’’t be long.” She demanded, before running off to find Pepper. Tony reached for the arm and slotted it back into the port on his shoulder, giving his fingers a quick flex

“You’re feeling better today?’ Tony asked, not looking up from the splatters of polish that had been clumsily applied over his hand

“What? Oh umm, right, yeah. Once it was all out of me, I felt much better.” Peter rambled “We won’t be eating there again.”

“What was the name of the restaurant? Perhaps we should send a health inspector over. Considering you were so sick, that for the first time since we started working together, you needed your aunt to call me.”

Shit.

“Well it might have actually had more to do with May reheating the leftovers…She made the call while I was still sleeping…”

“Of course. I’m sure this had nothing to do at all with our current multiverse situation.”

Why had he ever thought that they’d be able to lie to Tony?

“Well I was also pretty tired after what happened the other night…”

“Understandably. Apparently you haven’t been in touch with Stephen either since then.”

Peter grimaced

“I didn’t have any updates for him.”

“And you had no interest in discussing Stephen’s new revelations with either of us?”

“He’d do a better job explainging the Goblin in the walls theory than I would.”

Tony raised an eye brow at Peter, who knew that this sudden ‘leaving things to the grown ups’ attitude had flagged for everyone as suspicious. Peter never let anything keep him off patrol or from sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong, so for him to suddenly go off the grid after a major event was unheard of. Peter perched himself awkwardly on the edge of one of the bar stars, failing to act relaxed and casual.

“What about this has you so…?” Tony gestured with his hands vaguely. Freaked out? Rattled?

Where to start?

“I have…A theory about Green Goblin…?” Peter managed to say. He’d run over with Tim what he needed to say to Tony, how to convince him to be the right level of involved. He felt almost guilty for claiming credit for a discovery Tim had made. He’d been fighting Goblin for years with no idea who he was. He’d met Norman Osborn multiple times at events. Tim had fought Goblin once and never even encountered Norman Osborn but put the pieces together.

He was starting to wonder if he'd delibrately avoided the signs. It Green Goblin existed because he was Spider-Man, that made him accountable for the destruction he'd caused.

“Oh?” Tony asked

“I, think Green Goblin is Norman Osborn? Maybe?” Peter focused his eyes upon Tony’s shoes, to avoid having to look at his face. Tony was wearing slip ons, he almost exclusively wore slip on shoes now.

“You want to eleborate there, kid?” Tony asked, but his tone was a bit softer now, drifting away from the initial interrogation. It would be so much easier right now to tell Tony that Timothy Wayne was back at his apartment. But that wasn’t the agreed plan. If he betrayed Tim like that now, he’d never be forgiven. He was still on thin ice.

"The spider that bit me and gave me my powers, I..." Peter swallowed "I found it in Oscorp. I didn't mean to, I'd snuck in and I got scared and broke the case. I got really sick after and I just thought it was poisonous but then I was like this and..."

"Pete, breathe. Take your time."

Peter nodded and took a deep breath. He closed his eyes and kept them closed.

"Oscorp started getting really invested in healthcare in schools straight after. All they had to go on was that it was a kid who got into their building, so they might have been looking…I didn't start working as Spider-Man until a few years later, when I had a better idea of what my powers were and stuff. But Green Goblin appeared shortly after I did. He only commits crimes in areas where Spider-Man is known to opperate, and he always hangs around until I get there and...It's my fault."

"Pete. Peter. Look at me, hey." Tony said, using his natural hand to lift Peter's chin up towards him "It's not your fault, whatever that maniac decides to do. That's on him. You've saved far more people as Spider-Man than he's ever harmed. If it wasn't you, it would have been someone else. I can't think of any one else better suited for the role."

"He might be after Spider-Man because he feels like I stole his work." Peter mumbled "You'd feel differently if I'd stolen yours..."

"Well, first of all, I don't leave my work anywhere that kids can get their hands on it. Second, if a kid did steal my work, I wouldn't start smashing up a city over it. But what makes you think this is Osborn himself, instead of just some pissed off Oscorp employee? Or some guy who might have gotten sacked due to the blunder?"

Because of Tim.

"Osborn was probably pissed that his staff messed up. He doesn't really trust his employees and tries to do things himself all the time...Harry's always complaining about it..."

Tony nodded thoughtfully, his eyes were looking at Peter, but it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

"Who else have you spoken with about this?"

"May...She said if I didn't go to you then she would..."

"I knew I liked her. I'll arrange an enquiry into Oscorp but these things take time. Are you going to be alright?"

"I'll be fine."

"Do you have any idea why Goblin would be involved in this multiverse shit?"

Peter gave a half hearted shrug, his eyes going back to Tony's shoes

"That depends on who Timothy Wayne is, and what he wants to do with him. The Manhatten powercuts at around Oscorp always happen around the same time as the storms though."

"Stephen noticed that as well...We haven't seen anything in their recent work though that shows any interest in multiple worlds."

"Maybe they're trying to keep it under wraps to avoid Stark beating them to it. They want to make sure it works. They might want 'Timothy Wayne' as a witness that what they have is real."

"Whatever they want 'Timothy Wayne' with, I doubt its good. Have you had any luck tracking him down?"

"No." Peter answered too quickly. Tony's expression was doubtful.

"If you find him, out on patrol or wherever, what would you plan to do?"

"Call you?" Peter asked, and Tony buried his face in his hand.

"You're going to try and talk with him, aren't you?"

"I just said I'd call you!"

"You're a terrible liar Pete."

"Well, what do you plan to do if you find him first?" Peter demanded indignantly

"Hand him over to Stephen so we can get the guy home as soon as possible."

"But we don't understand how he got here, if we just try and force him back..."

"Stephen wouldn't do anything that would put him, or either of our universes, in danger."

Peters expression was doubtful. Tony hadn't been there in the Sanctum. It very much felt like Tim and his universe weren't something that Stephen was particularly worried about. Stephen seemed much more upset that someone was dragging strange people into his own universe, and wanted to put a stop to that.

Tony sighed

"Would it make you feel better if I promised, that along with investigating Oscorp to see if they could be involved in Green Goblin and potentially bringing our masked guy over from the other world, I also promise that we'll try and work out to send him back the way he came before trying to magic him home?"

Peter nodded.

"I'm sorry..." He muttered. It all sounded like a lot when Tony laid it out like that

"None of that. This is what I'm here for."

"But you're so busy with the prosthetics and the expo and Morgan..."

"None of that, except maybe Morgan, matters as much as making sure you're being safe. Regarding that though, what do you remember about the spider? We've never really talked that much about how you got your powers..."

Peter ended up spending a lot of the afternoon looking at various pictures of spiders and sorting them based upon what was the closest match to what he remembered. Tony made him provide blood and, to his horror, urine samples, to send to Dr Banner to analyse the contents of. They'd already done most of these tests years ago, after the trip to Germany, but apparently now they were doing them with additional information. They were going to be directly comparing it to Oscorps research and products, both those availible publically and the ones that they were trying to keep confidential. It ended up being an incredibly long saturday, followed by trying to make it up to Morgan that he'd kept her waiting for so long.

--

Tim knew he was in trouble as soon as he woke up. His head was killing him, and his entire body ached. He was so painfully cold and shivering, despite the sweat that had soaked his pyjamas. He forced himself out of bed, so incredibly grateful that he wasn't on the top bunk. Peter was already gone, May must have told him to let Tim sleep in.

The walk to the bathroom was long and slow, one hand pressed against the wall for support. He wanted to wrap himself up warm and stay in bed until it passed. But Alfred wasn’t here to clean up his wounds. He needed to do it himself. When he took off his shirt and bandages, he let out a hiss through his teeth. The cuts from the bats, one along his left arm and the other his right side, were red and raised. When he gently prodded them with his fingers, they were warm to the touch and hurt.

Infected.

Back home, he always had antibiotics in his bag, just in case of situations like this. He hadn’t had a chance to grab his school bag before being brought here, and hadn’t exactly been able to go and grab a prescription. He had to settle for cleaning the wounds again in the sink, applying the opened Neosporin that he found in the medicine cabinet and applying clean bandages. He dry swallowed some pain killers for his head.

He didn’t have time to be sick. If Peter decided to spill everything during his talk with Tony today, then he needed to be ready to run. Even healthy, he wasn’t sure he could evade Spider-Man and Iron Man without a decent head start. If Peter’s talk with Tony was a success, they’d need to sit down and work out their plan going forward, how they could access Oscorp once they knew what was actually going on. He wasn’t going anywhere fast today. Even the journey back to the bedroom felt too far right now, he just wanted to curl up on the floor until his head stopped hurting.

If Peter hadn’t trapped him on the fucking floor, he wouldn’t have been cut. If Peter hadn’t joined with ‘Stephen’ Strange to try and ambush him, he wouldn’t have had to swim away through a filthy, polluted river with still bleeding wounds. But he was from Gotham, basically all of the water surrounding the city was toxic. On principle he should have some sort of immunity to New Yorks water, it couldn’t be worse than what he faced at home…Except of course germs and dirt were bad for fresh cuts anywhere.

He’d do anything to be back in Gotham. Something about being sick in a strange house just made home feel even further away.

He didn’t want to crawl back to Peter’s bunk bed. He didn’t want to try and find Peter’s aunt to ask her to fetch him antibiotics.

He wanted his own bed. He wanted Alfred to scold him for being reckless as he patched him up. He wanted to startle awake to see either Bruce or Damian lurking and watching from some shadowy corner while he slept. He wanted Dick to ramble on about his day, Jason to leave a book on bedside table. He wanted to be home.

Tim lay down on the cold tiled floor, shivering.

It felt like he was there for a very long time before May was knocking on the door to check on him, but he couldn’t be certain. He half heartedly reached for his shirt as he heard her open the door, he hadn’t remembered to lock it.

“Tim, are you awake?” She asked, bending down beside him and placing her hand against his forward “You’re burning up…”

He couldn’t put the shirt on from the floor, so he settle for holding it around the Thing in his arm. Her eyes were scanning him over, taking in the scars that painted his torso, his freshly applied bandages. Surely none of this should be unfamilar to her? Peter under his clothes must look similar?

He tried to remember if Peter had any visible scars from under his t-shirt the day before. None that he could remember.

“Tim, can you stand for me? You can’t stay on the floor, it isn’t hygenic.”

He gave a slight nod, forcing his body up to his feet, his left arm clutching the shirt to the Thing on his right. He hated feeling so weak and defenceless.

“They’re infected.” He said quietly “I need antibiotics.”

“I’m still going to have a look.” May wasn’t asking permission, as she guided him towards the couch instead of the bunk bed. She helped him sit down, and fetched an oral thermometer and a glass of water that she placed on the side table. He obediantly opened his mouth and let her take his temperature, and whatever the result was, she wasn’t impressed.

“Can you tell me what you’ve already done?”

“Tylenol…Neosporin…” He muttered

“Okay that’s a good start. I’m going to remove the bandages just to take a look and make sure everythings clean, then we can put on some fresh ones.”

That felt like a waste. He knew how to bandage a cut. But he wasn’t in any particular place to argue with her. It was only when she tried to unclamp his arm from around the Thing that she encountered resistance.

“That’s not infected.” He said, looking her directly in the eye with his best imitation of Bruce’s glare. She hesitated for a moment, but she was too much like Alfred to be scared off by a sick teen.

“Tim, I need to see all your injuries to make a judgement about how best to help you. I promise that anything I see or hear will stay between us.”

He glared at her with even more ferocity, but the way he couldn’t stop shivering definitely lowered the impact. It was like when Bruce tried to scold them for being irresposible while Alfred picked glass shards out of his back with tweazers. In her defence, it didn’t seem like she’d shared anything from their previous conversations with Peter.

He surrendered.

If May was horrified by the Thing, she did a very good job of controlling her face. She was very gentle as she took his arm, and inspected the now healed edges from where it had buried itself inside of him. Feeling her trace her fingers gently around it made the whole thing feel horrifically real. It wasn’t just another problem to tackle, it was a real invasion in his body.

“Is this new?” She asked

“Strange put it in me, when he brought me here.” Tim said, wincing when she gently tugged at it. “I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Does it cause you any discomfort?”

“Only during the storms. It heats up and…vibrates?”

May moved on, taking off his bandages.

“No pus, that’s good at least.” She muttered, lightly touching the scabbed over wounds “How did you get these?”

“Bat drone robots.”

“And did you clean the cuts at the time?”

“After I got away.”

From the crease between her eyebrows, he had a feeling Peter had told her about how he had ‘got away’ and she didn’t approve. She was biased though. She knew and liked Peter and Spider-Man. At the time, with the information availible to him, retreating was his best course of action.

He pointed helpfully to the medical scar on his front.

“I had a splenectomy just over a year ago. I honestly just need antibiotics.”

“Do I want to know the circumstances of that?” She asked with a sigh

“No, and it’s not relevent.”

He didn’t think the League of Assasins was involved in anything that had happened recently. He hadn’t had a chance to check though if they existed and operated in this world. It would be just his luck if there was no Batman but Ra’s al Ghul was still knocking around like an immortal menace.

There was a polite cautiousness to how May bandaged his wounds, an unfamiliar gentle care. There was none of Alfred’s scolding, and she lacked his methodical nature.

“Do you ever patch Peter up?” He asked, she was too familar with this for it to be her first rodeo.

“No, thankfully for both of us he heals faster than most people can hit him.” May laughed “I think I’d be completely grey if he ever let me see what he actually gets up to on patrol.”

“He’d fine, he’s good at dodging.” Tim admitted “I couldn’t hit him, not with the weapons I have here.”

“And if you had your weapons from back home?

Tim thought carefully. Spider-Man was fast, strong and sticky with enhanced senses and it turned out, enhanced healing. But he relied on his instincts too much, he didn’t go into fights with any sort of plan. An overconfidence that only a meta could afford. If he could overwhelm those enhanced senses, perhaps with scented smoke bombs, then it would take some time for Peter to adapt.

“I could get a few solid hits in. I have an idea about how he fights now, if I was at home I could prepare properly and then I’d stand a chance, especially if I could choose the location. He’d be easiest to take down in a large open area, or potentially somewhere enclosed like a tunnel. Somewhere where he can’t climb out of reach.”

“I think I should be glad that we’re all on the same side…Please don’t get into another fight with my nephew.”

“No chance of that until at least tomorrow.” Tim muttered, letting himself flop backwards and closing his eyes. He didn’t move or object when he felt May’s fingers drift through his now cropped short hair.

It was different from when Dick or Bruce ruffled his hair. She wasn’t messing it up, but smoothing it away from his sweaty forward, teasing apart the knots with her fingers.

“I’m going to make some quick calls to see if we can get hold of those antibiotics. Do you have any allergies I should know about? Or any other medical information I might need?”

“No allergies, nothing else wrong.” He sighed. It really was just one thing after the other at this point. Peter had better come back soon with good news.

—

It wasn’t unusual for May to call Peter with medical orders. There were a few clinics around Queens that, at some point of another, Peter had helped protect from people trying to steal some of the stronger painkillers. Most of them didn’t ask too many questions if Spider-Man showed up at their back door with a less than official prescription signed by May. Everyone knew May, either from her former work in the hospital or her current role at Feast.

It was weird to carry it home instead of to Feast. It was extra weird to come home to see Tim perched like a gargoyle on the couch, watching The Rea l Housewives. Peter had never seen anyone watch one of these shows so intensely.

“Is he…Doing okay over there?” Peter asked, passing the bag of drugs over to May

“This is his eighth episode, and I’m wondering when we need to host an intervention.” May muttered, passing Tim the antibiotics and a glass of water. He carefully inspected the box and the pills before taking them.

“Why do people go on this show?” Tim asked. Peter had the impression this wasn’t the first time he’d asked this

“Because they’re rich and awful and want to show off.” Peter said, sitting on the couch next to him

“Are any of these women villains? Like, have you fought any of them?” Tim asked eagerly. Peter looked at May in concern.

“No…I think I saved that one who’s face doesn’t move from a car jacking once? Do you not…Have Housewives back home?”

“If you went on tv to basically advertise that you were rich and nuts, you’d be dead, taken hostage or robbed blind within the week back in Gotham.” Tim mumbled. He was still flushed, and Peter could feel the heat raditating off of him.

“What happened to him?” Peter hissed to May, who shrugged helplessly

“He has some infected wounds from the fight the other day, I put the tv on in the background hoping he’d manage to get some rest and now…”

“I just hope she has a good prenup.”

Peter couldn’t help feeling responsible that Tim was now sick, if he hadn’t stuck him down…But if he hadn’t then he wouldn’t have been able to put the tracker on him. Tim may still have been hurt and become sick, but he would have been out there alone in the city, with Osborn after him. Becoming obsessed with reality tv was a much better alternative.

“Do you want to hear about my talk with Tony?” Peter asked, and Tim’s eyes locked upon him. They were so blue they looked edited, he’d never met anyone in person with eyes that colour before.

“What did you tell him?”

“You’re okay, I didn’t tell him anything about you. We just spoke about Osborn. He’s going to do some digging into what they’re up to over there. He also promised me that, if they found you, they’d try and send you back the way you came rather than risking Stephen’s magic before they are sure it’s safe.”

Tim rested his head on his knees, one hand gripping his forearm.

“I’m going to be stuck here forever.” He sighed. “Either your wizard kills me or I’m here forever.”

“No, we’re making progress! We’re going to get you home, I promise. It’s just going to take a little more time, but we have an idea what we’re looking for now.”

Tim seemed unconvinced, his eyes drifting back to the tv. Peter looked at May, begging for her to step in and fix whatever weird slump Tim was in. Was this just because he wasn’t feeling well? May looked as lost as he felt.

“I’m sure that Batman back in Gotham is looking for a way to bring you home as well, he might beat us to it.” Peter said. Tim made a not commital humming noise. “What is he like, Batman?”

Tim seemed to think very carefully before answering. He’d learned by now that if Tim answered you right away, that meant he was lying and had a prepared answer. If there was a slight pause, then that meant he was planning to tell the truth but he was going to do so on his own terms.

“I don’t think you have a hero like him. Batman, he’s a part of Gotham, made up of her darkness. He’s invincible. Even just seeing his silouette makes criminals afraid, because they know that justice has come for them.”

“And you miss him?”

“I miss all of them. I want to go home.”

“Do you get sick like this a lot back home? Is there anything they do to help you feel better?”

“I’m not allowed out on patrol until Alfred says so.”

“Who’s Alfred?”

This was a new name, one that Tim hadn’t googled back at the library or mentioned

“He’s our butler. He takes care of all the cooking and cleaning and when we get hurt, and makes sure that we don’t sneak out. He’s a really good cook.”

They’d worked out that Tim was rich, but Peter had never met anyone before who had a real life butler. Even Tony didn’t have a butler and he was one of the richest people in the country. No wonder Tim was homesick in their little apartment sitting on a couch that was older than he was.

“Okay, what sort of things does Alfred cook when you’re sick? We might be able to do something similar…” He caught May’s eye who was looking panicked at the idea of having to make something ‘similar’ to a personal chef. Her go to recipes when Peter got sick, before the spider bite, mostly included heating things up from tins. Ben was the one…

“He just makes normal things. Soup and eggs and stuff…Sometimes he puts stuff in it so we’ll sleep…”

Tim was looking worn out, but his eyes were still fixed upon the tv, where the women were all shouting at each other over a dinner table. Normally it would be concerning to hear that someones butler drugged them to sleep, but Tim seemed to be forcing himself to stay awake. Was it some weird way of trying to feel like he was winning over his bodies infection?

Tims home life seemed weird, worlds away from Queens. But they could work with this.

“May, do we still have Bens recipe book?” Peter asked

“It’s on the shelf in my room…Peter…”

Peter dashed into her room, finding the old notebook that contained all of Ben’s family recipes. Neither of them cooked, that had always been Ben’s thing, and once he was gone they couldn’t face the apartment smelling of home cooked food when he wouldn’t be there to serve it. The recipe book was an old, hardback notebook that contained at least three people’s handwriting. He’d never asked Ben which ones had been his mothers or his grandmothers and now they would never know. But he flicked open to the back of the book, where Ben’s familar scrawl laid out how to make his chicken noodle soup. The ingrediant list wasn’t very precise. It would say things like ‘lots of garlic and then some more’ and ‘mushrooms’ without any indication of quantity. They wouldn’t be able to replicate it properly. He brought it back into the living room and began rummaging to find the ingredients he needed. Following a recipe was just like following the instructions for a lego kit. He would be fine.

Chapter Text

Out of Tim's siblings, Peter was probably the most like Dick. He liked to take care of people, he couldn’t ignore anyone who needed his help. He talked almost constantly and moved with an ease that most people could only dream of. He was also a terrible cook. By the end of the weekend, Tim was sure that the food was making him feel worse than the infection, which was thankfully being brought under control due to the antibiotics. But he couldn’t not eat the food when Peter would serve it so apprehensively, when every dish was accompanied by stories of Ben, when he saw how much Peter lit up in the little kitchen trying to decipher Bens recipes.

A consequence of enhanced senses was you highly underestimated how much seasoning was recquired for food to taste like anything to a normal person. Alfred might have been British, but he would use more than a pinch of salt, a single clove of garlic and then call it a day. Peters food was bland, and he’d try to remove basically anything resembling a texture. Soggy noodles and boiled vegetables in watery broth. Pasta with sauce closer to soup in consistancy. The worst were the mashed potatos. A seemingly endless supply of smooth bland mush.

It was a relief when monday came. A break from tasteless food, bad television and being watched too closely. Tim was almost embarressed that he now not only knew the names of all the Real Housewives of New York and their families, but could place the season based purely upon their hairstyles and plastic surgery, and had a good idea of their addresses based upon the skyline from their penthouses. Even at the best of times he wasn’t built for resting and domestic life.

Peter and May were fussing over him all morning, seemingly expecting him to be nervous about his first day at a new school. The actual school part was fine. He wasn’t going to be losing any sleep over grades or his social life when he wasn’t planning to stay here for longer than he had to. The main issue was having a timetable again, having people know where he was for every hour of the day. He’d managed to avoid detection for this long by not keeping a specific pattern, roaming the streets and avoiding talking with anyone. Now, he’d be fully making himself known here.

Even having Peter at school wouldn’t help is Strange or Goblin showed up. Peter couldn’t risk his identity in a place where he was so well known. The only comfort was that anyone who came for Tim at school would do so already knowing who he was, it would take some seriously bad luck at this point to be a victim of a random villain attack. He wouldn’t have to pretend to be a scared civilian this time.

“If you start to feel sick or feverish, get a cab home. Don’t feel like you have to stick it out for the whole day.” May said, as she tucked even more snacks into his backpack. She seemed to have forgotten during her time raising Peter that not ever teenage boy needed to eat an average of 8,000 calories a day. She then pulled out the bo staff from his bag. “Tim…You can’t bring a weapon to school…”

“Peter has his web shooters.” Tim said simply

“Those aren’t a weapon.” Peter defended, as Tim raised a sceptical eyebrow

“But you might get pulled over for a bag search and if they find that…” May continued

“I need something.”

May and Peter looked at each other. Tim hated when they did that, as though they were communicating telepathetically on how to parent their difficult teenager. Peter was younger and less responsible than he was, he didn’t need Peter to tell him what he could and couldn’t do.

“Peter will be there with you all day, he won’t let anything happen to you.” May promised

“I know how to protect myself.” Tim scowled. Peter wasn’t the only experianced hero in the room, he’d probably done more than Spider-Man if they were being completly honest. He’d been trained by Batman. Despite showing up that first night and embarressing himself by crying, and then following it up by getting sick, he wasn’t frail or weak. He just didn’t have the advantage of additional powers. Or all of his organs. Which was why it was more important that he had something to arm himself with.

He wasn’t sure that May had believed him when he said he could probably take Peter in a fight. If Peter didn’t have his enhanced healing, he was sure that he’d be covered in just as many scars as he was. His scars showed how many fights he’d walked away from, they weren’t anything to be ashamed of. He’d survived Joker, King Snake, Ra’s Al Gul and so many more. But none of that would mean anything to them.

“Tim, I know that this is a lot…” May started in a soothing tone, and Tim bristled. May was nice, and she’d been helping him out, but she wasn’t his parent or his guardian. She didn’t get to start thinking that she was an adult who got to dictate what he could and couldn’t do.

“No, you don’t.” He snapped “I’m not going unarmed.”

Peters eyes drifted to the clock in the hallway, it ran 10 minutes fast but they were still cutting it close.

“I’ll check my proteotypes…” He mumbled, heading for his closet with it’s false ceiling and pulling down a disorganised plastic tub of lose spider themed tech.

“Have you never thought about expanding your arsenal?” Tim asked, pearing into the box Peter brought down and seeing that it was mostly spider shaped robots and new web shooters.

“I can make my webs do most things, and I don’t really want to be carrying a ton of stuff when I’m swinging around the city…” Peter said, picking up what looked like a smart watch “This connects to our Spider-man network, you could use it…”

“I don’t need a red button to summon help. It probably won’t work if theres a storm anyway.”

Peter tossed it back into the box with a sigh, then Tim caught sight of something that almost felt familar. He picked up the bladed boomerang with a spider cut out in the centre and balanced it on his finger. It wasn’t as light as a batarang, but it was clearly designed for the same job.

“Do you have any more of these?”

“Like two…I think…It still looks a bit weapony for school…” Peter hesitated

“More discreet than the staff.” Tim pointed out “I won’t let anyone catch me with it.”

“You’re just borrowing them for today, until we work out something else.” Peter insisted, but he pulled out the other two…spiderangs?

“What do you call them anyway? Please don’t tell me you made an acronym out of boomerang or something.”

“I didn’t really bother naming them…I only really name the things that have their own AI and personality.”

Tim supposed spiderang would have to be their official name for the time being.

—

Peter’s enchanced hearing was annoying. Despite Tim not outwardly showing any tension, Peter definitely noticed his heart rate increase as they approached Midtown School of Science and Technology.

“We’re going to go to the office first to get your timetable, then we can find your locker and homeroom.” Peter said quietly, and Tim nodded.

He’d forgotten how crowded public school was, or maybe they were just busier in New York? There were teenagers everywhere. The corridor was filled with the sounds of them updating each other on their weekends, chucking books into their lockers and the endless squeaks of shoes against linolium. Ned had said that Peter didn’t have many friends, but quite a few people called out hellos to him. At the very least, Peter was known.

When they asked the lady in the office for Tim’s timetable, she seemed confused

“I didn’t know we were expecting an Alvin Draper…” She said, and Tim pulled the letter Ned had forged for him out of his bag and unfolded it.

“I was told to come today…” He said as he handed it over. She glanced at it then searched through her emails, finding responses she didn’t remember writing that contained her signiture, and an ‘Alvin Draper’ on the sophomore register.

“We’ll just see about getting your timetable for you.” The she forced a smile, but her mind was clearly elsewhere, wondering how she could have over enrolled the Sophomore year without remembering it.

“I’m kind of insulted that she didn’t even question my age…” Tim muttered, skimming over his timetable as Peter led the way to his locker.

“You’ll be grateful for it…” Peter began to tease

“Don’t you dare finish that sentance.” Tim said, giving him a light bump on the shoulder. Peter had a definite baby face and could easily pass for fourteen, maybe younger once you got him talking. When you were young, looking younger didn’t have any advantages. It just meant that no one took you seriously.

He had to follow Peter to their homeroom, trying to make a note of the schools layout and exists so he’d be able to navigate it himself as needed. Mr Harrington, their homeroom teacher, also taught science, and forced Tim to stand at the front of the class to introduce himself before sitting him in the single empty seat next to a boy called Flash Thompson.

Peter had mentioned Flash in passing, warning Tim that he could be a jerk and to ignore him. The boys clothes were noticeably nicer that most of the other kids in the class, but they were still just mall brands. His watch was a fake and his brand new trainers were too white. Flash wasn’t subtle that he was looking at Tim’s clothes either, and was clearly unimpressed.

“How do you know Parker, you his boyfriend or something?” Flash asked. Tim forced a smile

“Nice to meet you as well. No, my parents are friends with his aunt. They invited me to stay for a while because of the Stark Expo.”

“You don’t actually believe that Peter works for Tony Stark, do you?” Flash laughed, turning around to where Peter was muttering quietly with a dark eyed girl with an intense gaze and lots of curly hair “Hey Penis, what lies have you been telling this dork?”

“Shut up Flash.” Peter yelled back, rolling his eyes.

“You don’t think he actually works for Stark?” Tim asked, a little confused.

“No of course not! Tony Stark never publically advertised for a high school intern, if he had then I’d have heard about it. He’s just lying to get out of class and try to impress people.”

“But…He does work for Stark? We went up to the labs together just the other day.”

Tim had wondered how Peter had managed to maintain his secret identity when he seemed to be so careless. It turned out that the Peter Parker Persona was so well established that even the parts of his life that he openly admitted to were under scrutiny.

“Oh sure, did you meet Tony Stark and the other Avengers while you were there?”

“No, but…”

“Did you take any photos?”

“No.”

Flash smirked, and Tim held his smile. He knew he wasn’t lying and he didn’t honestly care what this kid thought of him, but it was still infuriating.

“Has Parker told you the one yet about how he’s friends with Spider-Man?”

“No, he didn’t mention that.” Tim glanced back at Peter, who was still talking with the girl. Why would you admit to knowing your own identity, when it brought attention to the fact you were never seen together?

“Last year…Well it was more like 6 years ago with the blip but anyway, last year he promised that he’d bring Spider-Man to a house party. Obviously Peter showed up without Spider-Man and then he left after like 10 minutes because he was so embaressed.”

“Weird.”

Who promises to bring their hero identity to a party without arranging for someone to cover the role? Peter was just lucky none of his villains heard about this and managed to put the pieces together. Tim’s eyes drifted to the Spider-Man patch on Flash’s jacket.

“Is Spider-Man your favourite Avenger?” He asked, pointing to it.

“Obviously! I’ve met him you know.”

“Really? When?”

“We were in DC, I’d just won us the Decathalon Championships and we were heading up the Washington Monument then BAM!” Flash slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, causing multiple students around to jump “The elevator stops working! A cable snaps and we’re going to crash down, we all would of died, but Spider-Man swooped in and saved us.”

“He should of let you fall.” The girl Peter was talking to called out. Her face was almost expressionless, her tone deadpan.

“Maybe he should of let you fall.” Flash bit back

“I wasn’t in the elevator, genius.”

“Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” Tim said, smiling at her and trying to divert the conversation. She stared back at him, unblinking.

“I didn’t give it.”

“This is MJ.” Peter said “She’s not a massive people person.”

“Well, nice to meet you MJ.” Tim gave a small wave then turned back to the front.

The day would be more bearable if he pretended it was a mission. A way to gather more information about how the world worked.

In Physics he learned that the laws of physics were the same here as they were back home.

In History he learned that the war of 1812 took place in 1812.

By lunch time he had learned that he was so done with high school.

Tim grimaced at the room temprature and rock hard slice of what was apparently pizza on his plastic tray, with a cartoon of milk and a bag of potato chips. He was starting to understand why May had put so many snacks in his bag as he pulled out a pear and some animal crackers.

“How is your first day going?” Peter asked, picking up his own slice and biting into it. It didn’t seem to bother him.

“Counting down the hours until it’s over.” Tim said

“Has your fever been staying down, right?”

“Yes I’m fine. Anyway I’ve had through much worse.”

“Like what?” A familar voice asked, and the MJ from homeroom slid onto the bench across from Tim. She watched him far too closely for comfort.

“Last time I was in Italy I ate some bad calamari the day before I flew home. A nine hour flight is bad enough when you aren’t wanting to hurl at the smallest movement.” Tim lied with a smile. MJ didn’t need to know about any of his real injuries or illnesses back home. It was a harmless lie, just a false anecdote that spring boarded the conversation into chatter about an upcoming trip to Europe with the school in a few months, but Tim could tell that MJ didn’t believe him. She had a look in her eyes like she was planning to check all the museums and restaurants he recomended as soon as she had access to a computer.

He’d have to keep a close eye on her as well. If Peter hadn’t told her his identity, there must be a good reason.

—

Duke was supervising two Eggs, the new nickname for the Robins in Training. Kayleigh was one of Jason's Alley Kids, she knew how to hold her own and didn't scare easily. She knew where the vulnerble people were and was able to approach them. Elliot was from Old Gotham, his dad had worked for the GCPD before a Scarecrow attack had forced him on indefinate sick leave. He wasn’t much for violence, but he was great with victims. They could teach him to throw a punch, it was a lot harder to teach Eggs how to talk down someone who was in a panic to get a clear statement.

"Look, down there." Kayleigh whispered, pointing at a teenage boy smoking against a bus stop. A missing poster for Tim was plastered to the side. There was a missing poster for Tim on almost every flat surface around Gotham, but this one was especially annoying because it brought the boys resemblance to the front if everyones mind.

Duke sighed.

"Okay, lets go check in him."

If the boy was surprised to see three teens in Robin costumes in the middle of the afternoon, he didn't show it. The fixed his eyes on Signals mask as he took another drag of his cigerette.

"You guys don't have anything better to do?" He asked

"We're just on patrol, and wanted to check if you needed any help getting somewhere." Kayleigh said, remembering after the last word to force a smile. Being bright and light didn't come as naturally to her as it did the other Robins, but she was trying.

"Nope, I'm good."

"Due to recent events, it's not safe..." Elliot started

"I'm good." The boy interrupted, his tone harsher now. "Go bother someone else."

Duke loved Gotham. Really, he did. You'd struggle to find a city with cleaner air or friendlier people. It was never at all frustrating when Gothamites had walls thicker than the Batcave.

"Buddy, I hate to tell you this, but you're standing right under a picture of Timothy Wayne." Duke pointed out "And there's been a lot of recent incidents where kids who look like him go missing. So unless you want to be another statistic, I'd stop loitering."

The boy turned and looked at the picture of Tim, then back at them

"You know, most missing people if they aren't found within 24 hours are dead."

"Thanks, we know." Duke said, glad his mask hid how he rolled his eyes. He loved protecting people. He loved helping them. "It's still an open investigation. But we've had multiple people brought forward as fakes to try and cash in on a ransom so..." He gave a gentle shooing motion

"Is this like an official curfew now? Against people with dark hair?”

“Take it as friendly advice from The Batman, and remember that if you’re swiped after being rude to us, we might take our time getting to you.” Duke said, giving a customer service smile as he gestured for the Robins to follow him as they grappled back up to their rooftop, keep an eye and an ear out for any sign of trouble.

“What an asshole.” Kayleigh muttered, shooting a dark look back in the teens direction

“Part of the job I’m afraid, dealing with Gothamites. Thankfully if they aren’t actively in danger, you can just leave them to their own devices.”

“I’m so bored of just being a chaperone service to teenagers…” Kayleigh said, spitting off the rooftop

“Yeah that’s how everyone feels until something bad happens. Don’t do anything to jinx it.” Duke warned

“How long do you think it will be though until Batman trusts us to do more?” Elliot asked

This was the awkward question that they’d been chewing over back at the manor. What was the long term plan for their mini Robin army? Batman had mostly trusted the teens with the recruitment and training, but they couldn’t reveal any of their identities to such a large group of people. They couldn’t take any of them to the Batcave. The opperated exclusively from the Belfry, which had never been intended to work as a long term replacement for the cave. With nearly twenty five kids in Robin suits now seen dashing around the city, and all of the teens having put their individual identities currently on hold to prevent the newbies from being targetted, the abscence of Red Robin and the real Robin had been hard to track.

But if any of the Eggs were hoping for a permanent promotion like the one Signal had received, they were going to disapointed.

“It took me months of training before Batman trusted me, if you can’t be patient then this probably isn’t the line of work for you.” Duke said, eyes still skimming over the city below them while the teens turned to mutter to each other. The problem that came up with teens with hero worship as their main motivator is that they found the reality of hero work disapointing. It was a good thing that Gotham finally seemed to have calmed down after the initial crime surge, it was good that the presence of additional Robins seemed to be deterring any major incidents.

The bad thing was they hadn’t found Tim.

Duke may not have Batman Level Detective skills, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew that the Robin Project was mostly viewed as busy work by the ‘adults’, that kept them out of the Tim’s case. Oracle wanted more eyes on the streets. Batman wanted his children to stay out of the major incidents. The teens wanted to feel needed and to help out. Entrusting them with babysitting kids that they didn’t want anywhere near the bad stuff was a win for everyone in theory. Except it gave Batman easy ammunition to avoid questions about what he’d discovered regarding where Tim was, or what he knew about Strange’s plans going forward. He could easily side track them with practical questions about what supplies they needed at the Belfry, the progress of the new recruits, the investigations into the further missing boys. While Batman and Robin were officially partners, it was no secret that everyone viewed Robin as the lesser of the two, the shiny little distraction. The fact that Batman was almost exclusively focused on Strange and Tim, while the Robin’s tried to find the ordinary missing citizens, had not escaped the publics notice and was not improving the situation for any of them. These days Batman and Robin felt like less of a partnership and more like two seperate teams.

Dick refused to share with any new discoveries with them either, which meant that it must be bad. He’d only been able to reassure them that Steph’s theory about only the mainline Robins being targetted was a shot in the right direction, which was great for morale. The idea of not being seen as important enough to Batman be targets was a very encouraging thought.

Steph refused to have anything to do with Jason since he stole Tim’s suit. Cass had tracked him down, and he’d come out worse for wear in the fight, but she’d also returned empty handed. Duke was just trying to stay out of the drama.

He was the only one of them with any experiance leading a team of untrained teens. Steph lacked practical training and would often rush into situations with the ‘punch first and question later’ attitude that he was really trying to discourage in the new Robins. Cass almost had too much training of the brutal assasin kind. She either threw the Robins too far into the deep end and let them drown, or had them stand as mere bystanders while she took care of the situation. Neither of them knew how to help the shy kids open up, the exciteable ones to stay calm or the aggressive ones to know where the line was.

He caught a movement from the corner of his eyes, the darkening of clouds and the rolling of thunder. The light around the artificial storms was different from a normal storm, the whole sky seemed to be rippled with static and holes seemed to be ripped through the very air. He didn’t need Oracle to tell him to grab his kids and clear out the area, but that didn’t stop her voice from coming clearly through his comms.

“Signal, can you hear me?” Her voice was panicked, more so than felt necessary. He was at least 8 blocks from the storm, she should be able to see that from his tracker

“Yeah O, I’ll take the Eggs…”

“No, all Eggs are ordered, directly by Batman, to immediately make their way back to the nearest safe house. Any who ignore this order are immediately fired permanently from the team. We need you…”

She paused, and Duke looked back up at the sky, where more storms seemed to be breaking. They seemed to be opening all over the city.

“Signal, I think I’m going to lose you. Please, do any of the storms look different from the others?”

“You need to head to the Founders Island safehouse, now.” Duke ordered Kayleigh and Elliot, who had drifted next to him and were watching him expectantly for instructions. He saw how every visible part of their faces creased with the scowls behind their masks.

“We can help.” Elliot insisted “You need as many…”

“If you don’t head immediately for the safehouse, then Batman will personally fire you.” Duke warned “I don’t have time to go with you, I’m trusting you to obey orders.”

He didn’t hang around to see their response, he couldn’t handle if they were scared to be left alone. He couldn’t risk losing Babs as the sky seemed to almost be painted red and orange as the storms kept growing in intensity. He kept his eyes locked up at the sky, looking for irregularities.

“Downtown Gotham O, it’s worst…”

He only heard the disjointed crackle of her voice, then silence. He had no idea if she’d heard him.

He had to find the others. Without his ability, they wouldn’t be able to see the difference between the storm clouds. But he also had to rush to downtown to see what could be causing the focus over there. He kept flicking through the comms channels as he swung as fast as he could, but no one responded to his calls for backup.

He didn’t have time to stop and help with the locked traffic, as people abandoned their cars and tried to flee on foot. He could hear screams and gunshots but he had to trust whatever was happening below to be handled by the GCPD. He needed to head downtown, hope that someone saw his trackers location and would follow.

He finally exhaled as he saw the familiar helmet of the Red Hood on a roof, until he landed next to him and saw what he was doing. He seemed to be firing directly into a crowd of panicked civilians rushing out the cinema.

“Hood, what’s happening?” Duke asked, as he tried to watch the replay. It was hard to see the details amongst so many people, all pushing and shoving each other to try and get away from the creature that was now getting onto it’s hind legs, towering above all of them…

“Monster Men. Strange is at it again. Fucking Bastard.” Jason spat, and Duke finally got a glimpse of the creature they were trying to flee, as it ripped open a car with it’s bare hands and threw it, and it’s passengers, down the street into the fleeing crowd.

The creature was maybe eight or nine feet tall and grotesquely muscular. It had a thick head of black hair, that contrasted with the bright colours of the Robin uniform it was wearing. Duke felt sick as it’s ice blue eyes turned up towards them and he stumbled back from the edge of the roof, scared to look any closer.

“That…That isn’t…” He couldn’t ask the question, he couldn’t face the answer.

“That’s not Tim. Look, are you here to help or just watch?” Jason sp

“Help, just tell me what to do.” Duke said, taking a deep breath as he straightened up.

“Focus on getting people away from that thing so I can get a clear shot.”

“On it!” Duke promised as he jumped from the roof, landing lightly just in time to pull a woman out of the way as a huge fist headed in her direction. This creature was smaller than a regular Monster Man, but it didn’t make it any less violent or horrifying. He focused upon the monsters future moves, yanking civilians out of harms way as he begged all of them to run to safety, to leave the dead and wounded that already littered the ground.

“Where’s Batman?” Someone cried as a bullet lodged itself in the monsters shoulder, making it roar and turn its head to try and identify where the pain had come from.

Duke would love to know why Batman wasn’t rushing to their aid himself. Surely, even without comms, Bruce would know they needed him? He always seemed to know where he was needed…

Jason swore loudly from the roof, and Duke pulled civilians to the ground the avoid the car that had just been thrown at them. He wasn’t fast enough to grab everyone, a young mans upper body was crushed, his legs still. Someone cried out a name, the mans name? But Duke barely had time to process it, yelling at them to run as he turned to see the second monster man. Another black haired, blue eyed Robin.

“This is sick…” He muttered. The monster Robin’s didn’t seem too interested in the regular civilians, it wasn’t like previous attacks where they mindlessly went for anyone who moved. The way their hands groped the entrances of buildings, ripped the sides of cars and how their ice blue eyes were constantly moving, these creatures were searching for something.

But they weren’t paying any more attention to Jason or Duke than any of the civilians. They were after someone else. Dick? He was the only other true Robin currently in Gotham…

“What’s that kid doing here?!?” Jason yelled from the room, aiming another shot at the first monster that made it stumble and nearly fall. Duke lifted his gaze and saw a familar costume with it’s yellow cape and green tights grappling over to them. He couldn’t recognise her from this distance, she was shouting something about back up. Was she requesting it, or saying it was on it’s way?

The monsters saw her as well, they locked their eyes upon her with an intensity that they hadn’t had before. With a grace that should of been impossible for any creature so large, so horrifying, they both pounced like cats, snatching the Robin out of the air. She screamed only briefly. Duke didn’t even have time to move before her small body with it’s brittle bird bones was thrown carelessly to the ground. Jason roared from the roof, leaping down and charging. He pulled two small guns from his belt, aiming that directly at the monsters faces. The ammunition must have been explosive because both monsters fell, their heads missing.

Duke rushed for the Robin. The Egg.

Every single one of them was His Robin. One of his Partners. They were a team.

She was gone, that was obvious as soon as drew close. There was no light left in her.

She would need to have a closed casket funeral.

At least it would have been quick.

He was close enough now to see who it was, though he would never have removed her domino mask out here in the open.

Lacey Rosewaithe. Gotham Academy Junior. Lived with her grandparents after losing her parents and brother when Two Face had flipped a coin and it landed on the wrong side.

How was he going to show up at their house and tell him he’d killed the last of their family?

“We have to move her…” Duke said, turning to Jason who’s eyes were fixed upon the poor dead girl in her Robin costume.

“I’ll fucking kill him…” Jason said, and it sounded like he meant it. Duke wasn’t sure who Him even was in this situation, there were so many options.

“We have to get her back to a safehouse…” Duke tried to say again, but his eyes were brought back to the sky, another Robin flying up to them, the storm and the sky growing fiercer in the background. Duke quickly ripped off Lacey’s cape to cover her as the other Robin landed with a stumble, practically hyperventilating as they tried to talk around tears.

Kieran Taylor. Gotham High Senior. Tennis player with three younger brothers who had nightmares about the Joker.

“Robin, report.” Duke managed to say, hoping he looked more composed than he felt

“The safehouse…” Kieran managed to say, before his eyes fell on the bloodied yellow cape on the ground, the boots that stuck out from the end.

He wished Batman was here. Batman would be able to tell him what to do, where to go. He didn’t want to leave Lacey here next to the monsters corpses, he didn’t want to leave Crime Alley which now seemed to be at the centre of the storm. But he had to go to his Robins.

He looked desperately to Jason, hoping he could give an order, tell him what to do. Jason was trembling, his fists clenched so tightly around the handles of his guns that it seemed amazing that they didn’t crumble in his hands.

“How many kids are going to die in that fucking costume?” He spat

“Was anyone else alive when you got away?” Duke asked Kieran

“I…Don’t know…There was screaming…They found…” Kieran was trembling too much to continue talking.

Duke had to make a decision.

“Red Hood, take Robin and…Our fallen Robin…Back up to your roof. Keep an eye out for more monster men and Strange. This seems to be the centre of the storm, keep trying to contact Oracle and let her know. I’ll go to the docks safehouse to see if they need help.”

He was scared that Jason would tell him to fuck off and not to give him orders. He probably would have, if Duke hadn’t mentioned about it being the centre of the storm, which meant it was one of the areas where they were most likely to bump into Strange. If Jason wanted to put a bullet through his head, this was the place to do it.

Jason didn’t say anything as he picked up Lacey’s body, not yet stiff, and grappled back up to the theatres roof. Duke headed off the way Kieran had come, towards the docks.

As soon as he saw the safehouse, he knew he was too late.

There was one monster still inside. Black hair, blue eyes and a blood stained costume. They’d ripped the door right off the wall. There was a loose monstrous arm on the floor with a spool of wire. These Robins hadn’t gone down without a fight.

But they had gone down. There was no more screaming from inside as the monster tried to pull the computer off the wall, as though someone could possible crouch behind that. Duke didn’t dare go inside, he couldn’t win that fight on his own. He couldn’t handle seeing more broken bodies.

Had Kayleigh and Elliot headed to the Founders Island safehouse, to die in a similar scene? Had he sent them to their deaths? It would take him too long to swing over to check, his comms was still radio silence. Surely Oracle would see that their safehouses had been compromised, would be trying to warn them…

He couldn’t save anyone in there. He had to head to the next one. See if he could arrive in time.

“Robin!” A voice cried out, and Duke could of sobbed as Batwoman landed next to him. She looked him up and down before sighing “Are you one of the real Robins, or just another kid?”

“I’m Signal.” Duke clarified, he must look really shaken if she had to ask “Have you seen Batman?”

“He’s at the Belfry, most of the Robins on patrol headed there…”

“How bad…” He managed to ask

“Some injuries, but no bodies when I passed by. He asked me to check the other safe houses that were less secure.”

“Have you seen anyone else? Nightwing, Spoiler or Orphan?”

“No one since I left Batman.” She looked at him, and he could almost sense pity from behind her mask, surrounded by flames of red hair. “He doesn’t want any of you fighting the monster men, he wants you to focus on evacuation efforts.”

He looked out over the city, taking in the sky that was so similar to when Tim was taken, and forced himself to exhale. To clear his mind.

Batwoman was already checking the safehouses. He could waste so much time and energy on a wild goose chase earching the city for everyone while they looked for him. Batman was protecting the Belfry and most of his Robins.

“I’m going to head back to Crime Alley to help Red Hood. If you find any more Robins, send them there instead of to the safe houses.”

The paid more attention to the streets as he swung back. He saw more monster men tearing apart buildings. He found the body of Robyn Donovan, Gotham University Freshman, a nursing student who’d seen too much, and hid her up on a fire escape, he covered her with her cape as he whispered a promise to return for her.

He wondered where Steph was. Bringing in more Robins had been her idea, was she blaming herself for the bodies that were beginning to pile up? It would be easy to say it was all her fault, but he’d gone along with it. He’d reached out to the old movement to find those who were still interested, who had shown the most potential. He’d helped take over the Belfry. His hands were covered in the blood of his Robins and it was his fault as much as anyone elses.

He stumbled as he landed next to Jason, more relieved than he could say to see Kieran still there, even if he was holding a gun. As he aimed a bullet between the eyes of the monster man that was trying to scale the side of the building, it was clear it wasn’t his first time. Kieran looked at Duke, who’d arrived alone, with fresh blood on his front.

“Batman is protecting the Robins at the Belfry, Batwoman is going between the safehouses to see if anyone needs help. She’s going to send any more Robins that she finds to us.” Duke reported

“Why is this happening?” Kieran asked quietly

“To fuck up Batman, why else?” Jason growled, shooting down another monster man that had come onto their street. They seemed to be making their way to the centre of the storm, drawn to it somehow. Duke had to hope everyone else would notice and make their way here. At least the streets now were empty of living civilians. “That’s all Robin is to these bastards, Batmans weak spot.”

Duke had known this. He’d known this and still sent them out there. They’d put too much faith in the idea that Strange wouldn’t hurt any of them apart from the real Robins. The attack at Gotham Prep hadn’t had any civilian casulaties, they’d assumed he’d keep to that.

He saw Kieran and Jason aiming their guns as three more monsters turned the corner, approaching slowly. They were almost in a triangular formation, their arms held around…

“Hold your fire! They have hostages!” Duke cried out, diving to knock both of them off balance, their bullets flying wildly off target. Jason swore, but Duke didn’t have time for that. He swung down.

The two exterior monsters each had a Robin gripped in their hands, their legs kicking wildly as they squirmed in the monsters grips. He recognised Elliot’s sandy blonde hair, that always flopped forward into his eyes, and Francis Umbers black curls. Both of them were splattered with blood.

Was it their own?

How many Robins were even left at this point?

The third monster, the one in the centre, was not holding the person he was carrying with the same force, it gently held Dr Hugo Strange in front of him, the man grinning wildly. Duke pulled out his escrima sticks and slipped into a stance, preparing to pounce at the first oppertunity.

“Release them.” He ordered, and he heard a thud as Jason landed beside him.

This wasn’t like the last time he was eye to eye with Strange. He wasn’t just a teenager in a school uniform this time.

He was Signal. He was Robin. He was a hero.

“You would think that Bruce Wayne would have learned by now not to send children into an adults fight, wouldn’t you?” Strange said, addressing Jason directly, as though Duke wasn’t even there. Duke focused his attention on His Robins. Both were clawing helplessly at the arms that restrained them.

He wished that Batman was here. Red Hood was a great ally for many things, but calming down a situation wasn’t one of them. Batman would know how to get all of them out of this alive, no more crippled bodies.

“Are you here to negotiate or just bore us with a monologue?” Jason growled, his gun aimed at Strange’s head. He couldn’t shoot though, not with the Robins so helpless.

“I want the real Robin. Damian Wayne.” Strange said simply “Where is he?”

Even if Strange knew Damians name, it was a relief to know he didn’t seem to know where he was. Lex Luther’s efforts to make Metropolis difficult for Superman to operate in made it incredibly difficult to track down anyone through normal means. Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne were never seen interacting in public beyond organised interviews. If nothing else, at least Damian would be safe.

“Read the Gotham Gazette, Wayne evacuated the kid after you publically attacked his other one.”

Elliot gasped as the monsters grip tightened. Duke looked at Jason desperately, begging him to somehow negotiate their release.

“I’ll leave all your decoys alone, when you send me the real Robin.”

“Batman doesn’t bargain with other peoples lives.” Duke said, perched on the balls of his feet

“That’s all Batman does when he sends you out here on his doomed little mission. He’s not strong enough to control this city. Not fast enough to save you.”

Jason growled, but a large gloved hand was placed upon his shoulder. Duke and Jason were pulled behind the imposing figure of Batman himself, almost as though he was trying to hide them from view.

Batman had never felt so deadly and dangerous.

He’d never been worried before about Batman breaking his most important rule.

“You have my attention, Strange. Release the children.”

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for the real Robin. He’s meant to be mine.” Strange sounded furious and demented.

“What’s with this fucked up Robin obsession anyway? Why do you want a bunch of kids anyway?” Jason demanded, stepping out to the side of Batman to aim his gun at Strange again “Leave them out of whatever this is.”

Strange’s grin widened, and Bruce tried to step back in front of Jason, until he realise if he did so that would leave Duke exposed. He couldn’t pull either of them closer to him, without restricting his ability to go for Strange directly.

Elliot’s movements were slowing down. They were running out of time.

“Take me instead of them, please.” Duke pleaded, trying to side step Batman but ending up just closer to his back

“No Robin.” Batman growled

“We need to help them!” Duke begged, gesturing desperately.

Jason took his chance while Batman was distracted, charging forward at Strange with a roar that was quickly drowned out by the sound of gunfire. Duke and Batman both cried out as the monster holding Strange easily turned, it’s back taking the brunt of the assault. Duke didn’t get a chance to see what happened next, he was quickly tangled up in Batman’s cape and pushed to the ground, as the Bat himself charged after Jason. Duke struggled to untangle himself from the weighted fabric, trying to piece together the fight from the yells and thuds that he could make out. He’d just managed to get his head out, began crawling out of the fabric and onto the rain and blood soaked road when there was a blinding light and a pained cry. Duke froze as he saw the silouette of Jason get ripped apart from the circular device that Strange had attached onto his chest. He saw Bruce’s hand reach desperately for his son, a fist forming around the empty air as he vanished.

The storm began to part, the skies static rippling out of sight as the rain stopped falling.

Duke had to move. He tried to piece the fight together through the replay, how the monsters had thrown the Robins to the side to rush in defence of their master…

They hadn’t crushed them.

Duke ran to Elliot, shoving his fingers against his neck and letting out a sound that was both a laugh and a sob as he felt the gentle and feeble pulse beneth them.

“You’re okay, you’re okay…” He reassured him, gritting his teeth as he had to ignore how Elliot flinched and groaned as he was dragged out of the way. Duke had to get to Francis, who was lying too still on the other side. But was still a light around him. For now, he appeared to still be alive. He looked back up to the roof, where Kieran’s white face was peering over and gestured him to come down. He only hesitated for a moment before swinging over.

“I need you to get Robin up to the roof, can you lift him?”

Kieran looked down at Elliot, who was at least a foot shorter than him and he nodded. Elliot to his credit did his best to loop his arms around Kieran’s neck and hold himself up, from his laboured breathing there had to be some serious damage to his ribs. As soon as Kieran’s feet were off the ground, Duke rushed over to Francis.

Francis’ mask had cracked, a wild and scared blue eye visible from beneth the lens. His hand reached for Duke almost blindly, his words incoherant.

None of them had been prepared for this. This was never supposed to happent to any of them.

“Stay with me, you’re going to be alright.” Duke said, guiding Francis’ face away from where Batman was attacking the monsters with a never before seen ferocity. Francis’ arm was bent at an unnatural angle, and contained a large amount of glass, it looked like he’d been tossed through a window at some point. He let out a strangled yell as Duke hoisted him roughly to his feet, trying to support him with one arm and raise his grapple with the other. They were almost the same size, the best he could hope for was just getting up. He wouldn’t be able to swing while carrying him.

Batman grabbed both of them and shot his own grapple up, depositing them on the roof. His timing couldn’t have been more perfect as one of the monsters feet slammed down on the section of road that they had been on moments before. Batman didn’t stop to see if they were injured, immediately disapearing back down to finish off the fight and Francis’ eyes rolled back into his head. He was losing too much blood.

Duke wasn’t a medic. He did his best to pick out the glass, ripping off chunks of his cape to use as makeshift bandages. The yellow fabric quickly turned red.

“If you can hear me, please respond. Urgent, please respond.” Babs voice came through the comms desperately, it sounded hoarse as though she’d been repeating the message the entire time.

There was a clamour of noise as almost all of them replied at once, their voices merging into each other.

“Oh thank God. Name yourselves one at a time, please.”

“Nightwing present.”

“Spoiler here.”

“Orphan.”

“Batwoman.”

“Signal, Batman is here too, he’s busy…Red Hood…”

The line was silent for a long second, no doubt Babs taking in Jason’s absent tracker.

“Signal is located on Crime Alley, across from the cinema. Nightwing and Batwoman…”

“On my way.” Nightwing said

“I have a badly wounded Robin with me.” Batwoman said

“Spoiler, go an meet Batwoman at the Opera House. All wounded Robins need to be relocated to the Belfry, Agent A and Dr Thompkins are already there. Batwoman, as soon as you see Spoiler, go to assist Nightwing and Batman. Signal, what’s your current situation? Are you injured?”

Duke’s hands were covered in blood. Francis didn’t seem to be able to stop bleeding. He wasn’t making any noise now, his mouth gasping like a fish on land.

“I have a critically injured Robin…He’s not…I don’t…”

“Change channels, Agent A will advise. Do not under any circumstances reenter combat.”

Duke flicked over to the other channel

“Signal, is the patient currently responsive?” Alfred’s calm British accent came through the comm

“Robin, can you hear me? Can you look at me, to let you know you can hear me?” Duke asked, and Francis’ visible eye met his briefly, before it drifted shut “He just looked at me when I asked, but I don’t think he can talk. He doesn’t seem able to breathe properly and he’s bleeding…”

“Are there any visible injuries on his torso?” Alfred asked, helping to curbe Duke’s panic. Francis let out a pained cough as Duke felt him over, opening the Robin costume to get a better look.

“There’s significant bruising, but I can’t see anything impaling him…A, he can’t breathe…”

“Roll him onto his side and into the recovery position.”

Duke did so, Francis exhaled. He didn’t inhale. Duke felt his neck, there was no pulse.

“His hearts stopped, he’s not breathing. What do I do?”

“Back onto his back, do you remember CPR?”

“Y-yeah…” Duke stammered, and Alfred tried to talk him through the timing for the compressions and rescue breaths. He could taste blood. Francis wasn’t breathing.

After a few minutes, Alfred’s voice trailed off. Duke kept up the compressions. He kept breathing into Francis’ mouth.

“Please, please…” He breathed, his arms aching with the effort of maintaining it. He didn’t notice Nightwing land, not until his gloved hands gripped his own, pulling them up from Francis. Duke tried to pull away, tried to explain that he had to keep trying, he couldn’t let Francis die here, not like this…

“It’s okay, you can let him rest now. You’ve done really well…” Dick said, pulling Duke into his chest, a hand behind his head to stop him from turning around to see the body.

“How many Robins…?” He asked quietly. Dick didn’t let his body flinch.

“We don’t know for certain yet. Once we know that all the monster men have been dealt with, we’re going to retrieve them and return them to their families.”

Duke shuddered. The image of going to door holding Lacey, Robyn, Francis…Explaining that he’d failed to protect them…That was meant to have been his one job…

“I’m going to tell their families, you don’t need to be there unless you want to be.” Dick reassured him, then gently released him from the hug “I need to go find Batman, if I leave you here will you be alright?”

Duke managed a nod, and Dick carefully propped him up against the edge of the building. He covered Francis and disapered down off the roof. It felt wrong that the city was still so loud. He could hear the sirens of emergancy service veichles, screams of civilians and the shots of guns. Occassionally a voice pop into his ear through comms, Oracle directing all of the adults who remained in the field, but he couldn’t bring himself to focus upon it.

He just stared at the body in front of him, wrapped in bloodstained yellow with green boots.

Duke never wanted to wear a Robin costume again.

Chapter Text

Tim had nearly made it through his first day at Midtown without incident. He had just sat down in his final class of the day, Calculus, when the storm had started. One moment the day had just been slightly gloomy, then there was a crash of thunder and the lights went out. Tim leaped to his feet as a couple of people screamed dramatically. The Thing on his arm burned.

“It’s alright, it’s just a storm.” He said to the screamers, who gave him an odd look before laughing amongst each other.

Apparently, you could scream in New York. They didn’t seem to teach them that if you pretended to be hurt or scared, then people might not believe you when you really needed their help.

Or that screaming was an excellent way to let an attacker know your location and that you were vulnerable.

“Alvin, you can sit back down…”Peter hissed, shooting a look at Flash who was watching them with interest. Tim ignored him, heading over to the classroom door and peering out into the corridor. No one else was doing the same, and there were no signs of Strange or robots.

“Can you return to your seat please?” The teacher asked, polite but irritated, as Tim hurried over to the windows to see if there was anything on the street that he needed to be concerned about. Other than a few pedestrians pulling jackets over their heads or dashing into the subway, none of them seemed to be worried about the storm.

“Sorry Mrs Garcia, it’s his first day at a New York school, he’s not used to the power outages.” Peter rambled, he got up to try and grab Tim, who turned and met his eyes. His face was almost green.

“I think I need to go to the nurse's office…” Tim said quietly, gripping a desk as he nearly lost his balance. Peter was given a hall pass, grabbed both their bags, and asked to accompany Tim, who straightened up as soon as they were out of sight.

“What do you normally do when you need to leave school in the middle of the day?” He asked, the colour back in his face and a fierce intensity in his eyes

“I normally get Mr Stark to call in and say he needs me, but he won’t do that unless it’s important. What’s wrong? Is it your infection?”

“I’m fine.” Tim snapped, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose “We wouldn’t be able to get anyone to call in now because of the storm anyway, all communication will be down. By the time we could get a message to him asking to be pulled out, it will be too late.”

“It’s just a storm…”

“No, it isn’t. It’s one of those weird ones and it’s big.”

“We can’t leave school every time there’s a weird storm…” Peter tried to reason, but Tim was walking again with urgency. Peter chased after him “How do you know it’s one of the weird ones anyway? I thought you didn’t have like…special senses.”

Tim checked the hallway was clear, before pulling Peter quickly into a nearby bathroom. He checked that it was empty before leaning against the door and pulling up his right sleeve, revealing the Thing. May had already seen it by this point, so it was no longer a secret, and he needed Peter to understand. Peter’s eyes fixed upon it in horror. It truly did look awful, a huge metal thing buried in his arm with scarring on the flesh surrounding it. It was more than just warm, it almost hurt how hot it was, like the time he’d accidentally touched Steph’s straighteners before they had cooled down. The skin around it was visibly moving in response to the vibrations.

“I think this is how Strange brought me here, it embedded itself in my arm just before I came to New York.” Tim said, his voice hushed and urgent “It was a normal school day, then there was a storm, the power went out and none of our phones worked. Now I’m in the exact same situation, and it’s freaking out."

Peter's fingers twitched by his side, resisting an instinct to reach forward and touch it.

"Go for it, see what I mean," Tim muttered, thrusting his arm forward. Peter's fingers flinched away from the initial heat but he gently traced them over it. Tim could feel him through the metal, as though it was truly part of him now. He didn't like it.

"Ned and I, we could kind of see it when we went through the footage from the bats, it's what they were using to identify you. I wonder if it's made of the same metal..." Peter was muttering under his breath "Our original theory was that whoever was behind the bats was trying to get hold of it, like maybe it was stolen tech. Do you think that Goblin wants..."

"No, if it matches the bats that almost confirms this is his tech. If it was just they wanted some tech to go from Gotham to here, they wouldn't have gone after me. They would have taken someone who no one would have noticed vanishing from the streets to bring it over instead of publically declaring war against Bruce Wayne and Batman."

"Strange mentioned that Goblin was anchored on this side, and that's how he could go into the 'walls' between our worlds without getting lost or ripped up, maybe that's your anchor here."

Tim yanked his arm back and quickly pulled his sleeve back down.

"We're not ripping something that we don't understand out of my body on a hunch. For all we know I'll just get ripped to shreds again when your universe tries to reject me."

"I wasn't going to suggest us just removing it!" Peter said defensively "And what do you mean again?"

"We need to try and get to Oscorp, to see if the storm is different close to the source. If what you said about the bats is true, then Osborn might not even know what I look like, we won't even need suits to observe."

"May and Tony..."

"The phones are down, who's going to tell them? We have a hall pass."

Peter still looked apprehensive as Tim slipped out of the bathroom. Classes seemed to be going ahead as usual so no one disturbed them as they slipped outside. There didn't seem to be any disturbances outside, which helped Tim to relax a little, it didn't seem that this storm was caused by him being at school at least. No one was looking for him here. Both of them pulled their hoods up as they stared at the sky, unable to see where this storm ended. Something had to be happening to need a storm this size.

Tim lead the way, walking at pace in the general direction of Oscorp. On foot it might take them 20 minutes to get there, the storm could be over by then, and with the power outage, there were bound to be issues with the subway. He also couldn't face not knowing what was going on above the ground, being trapped in an enclosed space when someone might be searching for him, or any reminders of the moment he arrived in New York.

"The previous storms we focused over small areas, this was probably because they were aiming for specific targets, like when they took me, or it was easier for them to communicate that way." Tim muttered, more to himself than Peter but trying to keep his accomplice in the loop. "This might mean they're targetting someone and they don't know where they will be, or haven't found a way to restrain them in smaller area. My family will be better prepared than they were after the first attack, and they probably haven't been following their usual routines so they'll be harder to ambush. There's also a chance my family has been using the storm locations in Gotham to try and track down Strange's base of operations. They've been consistantly in the same place here, so it might be the same back home and they are trying to throw things off..."

"Or Osborn is trying to lure you into a trap." Peter offered, anxiously looking over his shoulder. Tim rolled his eyes

"This would be a shit trap, it's too big. I could be anywhere. At least when you tried to trap me you had the decency to choose a small island, or did Stephen Strange come up with that?"

"The storm was Stephen's idea, but Roosevelt Island was mine. If you can tell the fake and real storms apart, why did you show up? That could have been really dangerous if we weren't the ones who'd set the trap."

Tim shot Peter a scornful look

"Because I was confident I could get away, and I needed to know who might be looking for me. If I hadn't shown up, I wouldn't have found out about Green Goblin."

"But you could have been hurt! You were hurt!"

"Only because someone had the bright idea to secure me to the ground so I couldn't dodge. Anyway, I managed to get away."

"You got an infection."

"Which is now being treated. Everything worked out."

"I just think that you need to be careful about charging into these kind of things. Right now we're heading towards someone we know wants to hurt you, no one knows where we are and we don't have any suits or masks."

"Are you this anxious all the time? Is this just because I don't have powers?" Tim scoffed, and Peter flushed. He'd hit the nail on the head. "Gotham is much more dangerous than New York, and only one of our heroes has powers, and they're not linked to healing, strength, speed or anything that you take for granted."

"We're not in Gotham though, and we're going against a guy who does have super healing, strength and speed." Peter insisted "And you're planning to do it in a hoodie."

"We're not fighting, we're observing. That's much easier than we're dressed as civilians."

"But what if he sees you?"

"You didn't."

Peter seemed to reluctantly admit defeat, at least for the time being. They'd turned a corner to another Oscorp protest, yelling about the lack of concern they showed for the communities they were impacting with the power outages and demanding more transparency.

It was amazing that any of them were able to hold down jobs when they seemed to spend half of their time yelling on street corners under the watchful eye of Oscorp security.

"There's much more security in the area now than there has been when I previously scouted out the area..." Tim said quietly, eyes skimming over the guards who weren't being careful about concealing their weapons. The storm itself wasn't any noticebly different this close to the Oscorp tower, but the Thing was vibrating even more rapidly, to the point it was distracting. "I don't know if that's because they are expecting trouble during the outage, or they're preparing for something else. None of them seem to be looking for anything specific right now at least, so they might not be aware of what exactly is going to happen."

"What do you think is going to happen?" Peter asked quietly

There were a lot of guards, but if Osborn was going to unleash monster men on New York then he'd want more of them around his tower, and he'd want them to be prepared. All of these guards had a vaguely disengaged look about them, they weren't looking for anyone in particular or expecting a particular threat. If he wanted to bring Hugo Strange to New York, he'd probably want to do it at a less obvious time. New York, and particularly Manhatten, was never exactly quiet, but in the middle of the afternoon there were so many civilians in the area. It took a lot to phase New Yorkers but anyone who saw Strange would be able to tell he was bad news and someone to be avoided, if he was just dropped suddenly amongst tourists, field trips and parents preparing for the school run it would pull eyes to Oscorp even more.

He hadn't been able to confirm Calculators involvement, but it was likely. Calculator relied upon knowledge and his own technology, it was hard to imagine a price that would willingly bring him over to New York. It was also hard to imagine how much Calculator would be charging Osborn for his services with hiring someone like Strange to ambush and kidnap Tim, or if that price would be negotiated when he hadn't got the person he was promised.

He could think of two likely scenarios. One, the best option, Osborn was unhappy with his business dealing with Gotham, and wanted to send Tim home for a refund and everything could end today. The other, more probable but less appealing option, was that Tim's disaperance hadn't disrupted activities back in Gotham as muvh as predicted and they were going to take another swing at Batman.

"I think that they might be trying to bring more of my family over here..." Tim said quietly, leading the way to slip behind a middle aged pair of tourists and following then loosely. If anyone was scanning for trouble, they just looked like another of the many families in the area.

"What do we do?"

"We'll have to keep an eye out. I materialised here underground. I think part of why they so many guards around is to keep an eye out for anyone..." Tim's stomach dropped as he thought of an awful idea. The large storm had immediately put him on alert. He could only imagine the reaction back in Gotham if they were seeing the same thing. Bruce would probably be trying to tackle any threats to Gotham on his own, trying to keep his family away from any danger, but a storm this size over the city would be impossible to ignore. It sent a very clear message that you weren't safe, wherever you were hiding. None of them in those conditions would be staying home in their civilian identities. Taking someone in their hero identity would help to create even more uneasiness because that was when they were able to fight back. If Bruce couldn't protect someone when he was right there as Batman...

"They're going to be dressed as heroes, whoever they bring over." Tim hissed. He stopped suddenly and pulling Peter aside and pointing up at a random building, playing the part of eager tourist as he tried to fill him in quickly. He was starting to regret being so cautious earlier about revealing anything about his team back home. He just hadn't factored in the chance that Peter might be meeting any of them. "Nightwing, has a black with a blue bird on it. Red Hood, has a red metal helmet and he wears a black suit with a big red bat on it. He normally wears pants and a jacket over it. Robin's a tiny kid, red tunic, green boots and a black cape with yellow lining. If you see any of them, appoach with caution. Especially Red Hood and Robin, neither of them have flawless track records with the No Kill rule."

"You think they might kill someone?" Peter hissed, his eyes wide with horror

"Probably not, but they're going to be freaked out. It really hurt, and if they get dropped off somewhere crowded it'll be even more disorentating...."

Both of them flinched as there was another roll of thunder, quickly followed by lightning. The storm was right overhead.

He didn't know how much time they had. He didn't know if they'd drop directly in Oscorp or the surrounding area. None of their hero costumes would exactly blend in.

There were too many armed guards. It was too crowded for a quick getaway. Tensions were already high with the protests and school rush. They didn't know if Green Goblin was planning to show, or if Osborn was planning for his first impression for any of his brothers to be more civilised than screaming from a glider.

He let his eyes glaze over the streets and the crowds. It wouldn't do to run aimlessly if the need arose. They needed a safe destination to aim for.

"Tim, are you alright?" Peter asked quietly

"I don't have a plan yet." Tim said through gritted teeth, eyes still skimming as he tried to look for any sign of something happening, something to react to, something that provided information so he wasn't having to rely off hunches and guesswork

"What are you thinking of, maybe I can help?"

"If we need to get away quickly..."

"Aim for the subway." Peter said simply, pointing out their nearest entrance point. It seemed a lifetime ago that Tim had been watching Norman Osborn on his public image campain exit from that same staircase.

"Train's are too predictable and the crowds..."

"We skip the train and go straight onto the tracks. I do it all the time on patrol, the trains don't run during the power outages anyway." Peter twitched his hoodie sleeves, revealing his web slingers locked into position.

Did he wear them all the time, or had Tim just missed him putting them on?

"If anyone in your family does show up, you focus on just grabbing them, and I'll lead the way for our escape." Peter said simply with a shrug.

Tim nodded in acceptance. He could work with that. He'd almost forgotten that Peter must need to navigate the city without swinging from skyscrapers at least some of the time, like how they frequently utilised Gothams sewer system.

He flinched as there was more thunder. A part of him wanted the storm to just end and nothing to happen at all, for it to all of been him being paranoid. Another part of him was desperate to see a familar face, to have any sort of sign that Gotham was a real place he could return to.

Peter reacted before Tim had even noticed anything was happening, pulling him down to the ground a split second before there was a flash blinding of light just across the street in the main Oscorp plaza.

Everything was white.

Everything was burning.

Tim screamed.

He was being torn to pieces, turned inside out and stretched so he'd snap in two. His vision was a blurred mess of shapes and shadows. He was aware of someone crouched in front of him, their voice too muffled for him to hear any of the words. But he could see the silouettes of large shapes, a huge black shadow that was roaring...He was being stretched and pulled and twisted and torn. He was going to die here.

He was curled up on the side walk. Everything hurt and he wanted to throw up.

A crowd had begun to form around, too many people trying to ask if he was alright. Too many voices and strange half formed faces settling into view. He didn't want to stretch out again, to risk his body falling to pieces. But he had to. He had to keep moving. He had to see if he was still the only one...He forced his hand out to grab Peter's arm from right in front of him, taking comfort in him being solid and right there.

"He's okay." Peter assured the crowd, as he tried to coax Tim up to his feet and shoo the crowd away "He was struck by lightning before, I think he just had a panic attack."

"What happened?" Tim asked quietly, gripping Peter for support more than he'd like to

"I don't know, you sort of...Flickered isn't the right word. You were like half here and half not. I think you slipped through the walls." Peter said, his large brown eyes filled with concern "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been dragged through a wall. Did you see anyone else?"

"No, I was focused on you..."

Both of them flinched as everyone started screaming, running away from Oscorp and the sounds of gunfire. Peter had to put his arm around Tim to avoid him being sweapt away in the crush.

The Oscorp guards were running towards the gunshots and shouting. Through the noise Tim could pick out one voice that didn’t belong. A loud, rough, East End Crime Alley Gotham accent.

Of course it would be Jason. A guarenteed emotional reaction from Bruce, and he was certain to cause a scene as soon as he was dropped in an unfamilar enviroment.

“Is that…?” Peter trailed off, unable to find a delicate way to ask about the blood covered man in the red helmet, who’s legs were trembling beneath him like a baby deers as he sent warning shots towards the guards. Shouting at everyone to stay back, demanding to know where Strange was.

“Red Hood.” Tim confirmed

Not all of the blood on Jason's jacket looked fresh, but none of it looked older than a few hours. Most of it was spread across his front, as though he'd been carrying injured people or being splattered by the aftermath of shooting someone. He didn't seem to be sporting any injuries beside the pain and confusion of being forced through to another world.

Jason's still seemed to be overflowing with the addreniline of a fight, but he wasn't shooting at any of the guards, not to hurt or kill. Just enough to keep them away. Once that adreniline gave out however, he probably wouldn't be able to defend himself for a while. The anxiety, confusion and pain had taken hours to settle when Tim was first brought over, and he'd had much better circumstances to process it all.

None of them were shooting back either, though their weapons were still aimed on Jason. They might have orders after all not to harm or kill anyone who was brought through.

"Kneel on the ground and put your hands behind your head!" The guards were trying to order

"Where the fuck is Strange?" Jason yelled back "I'll kill him, I'll fucking kill him!"

Peter looked at Tim hesitantly

"That's your brother?" He asked quietly, and Tim nodded

"He's not always like this..." He muttered, not quite truthfully. Jason may not always be a foul mouthed lunatic with a gun, but it wasn't exactly uncommon.

Peter helped Tim to lean against a wall, he still felt sick and shaky. He hated this.

"Can you try and stay out of trouble here, just for a second?" Peter said. When he was Spider-man his mask always hid his face, but Tim could imagine that he often wore this calm determined expression before heading into a fight. He'd perfected the tone of voice for talking to frightened victims, letting them know that the situation was handled.

Instinctively, Tim always wanted to protest whenever anyone took that tone with him. Normally Bruce or Dick trying to take the world on their shoulders again. But if Tim charged in their knowing Red Hood by name, he'd be exposing himself to all of Oscorp. He wasn't certain he was up to running away or fighting either.

"If you need me, I'm right behind you." Tim promised, straightening up against the wall, trying to ignore how his legs trembled in protest. If Peter did need him, he'd find a way to force his body into action and deal with the consequences later.

"Great, thanks. I'll be right back." Peter said with a smile, before turning over to where Jason was still standing his ground. Peter's hands were raised in a limp surrender as he approached, his pace slow and predictable

"Red Hood!" He called out, and Jason spun around, but he lowered his weapon as soon as he saw that Peter was just a kid

"You need to get out of here." Hood growled, storming towards Peter, his stance immediately going from aggressive to defensive.

"Strange isn't here, you're alright. We’re in New York, by the Oscorp tower." Peter assured Jason, keeping his own pace consistant as he headed towards Jason. The Oscorp guards were forced to hold their own fire for fear of shooting the teenager who had seemingly just appeared and was attempting to deescalate the situation

Jason seemed to allow himself to look beyond the immediate threat of the guards, taking in the Oscorp tower, the plaza, the skyscrapers

"How did I get here?" He asked suspiciously

"Strange sent you. I can explain more later, we need to get somewhere safer."

"We need to take him into custody." One of the guards said "This is private property and he's shot firearms..."

"He's injured and confused. He needs a hospital." Peter said, his voice sterner than usual

"No hospital." Jason snapped

"We have a medical team inside who can look him over."

"He's not going with you."

"Our instructions..."

As usual, Peter reacted before it was clear to anyone else what was happening. He pulled Jason behind him, taking a defensive stance. Tim followed his gaze up, to where a red and gold metal suit was descending rapidly into the centre of the ring.

"Aren't you meant to be in school?" A voice asked through the helmet, slits locked upon Peter who's confident demeaner immediately shifted to kicked puppy. Jason tried to adjust himself to be in front of Peter, between him and the approaching hero.

"This is a privately owned place of business, hired security have juristiction over any incident." One of the guards stated, approaching Iron Man with his weapon still gripped in his hands

"That's my intern, so I have juristiction over any incident involving him." Tony Stark said, the helmet of his suit seeming to disapear at will as he turned to face Peter "Anyone hurt?"

"N-no Tony, we're all fine."

"You can take your intern, but we need to guy in the helmet." The guard pressed "We have orders..."

"Yes I heard you the first time." Stark interrupted, his eyes passing over Jason, who was still in a losing battle with Peter for the defensive position at the front. "Is this guy involved with you kid?"

"Yes." Peter said quickly with a firm nod. Tony turned back to the guards, arms outstretched as though defeated

"Seems that involves my intern as well, so he'll be coming back with me."

"You have no authority..."

"If you have an issue with it, send a note to my office. I probably won't deal with it personally, that's not really worth my time, but I'm sure I employ somehow who replies to emails like that."

"You can't just..."

Tony was messing with something on his arm, some form of communication device?

"Happy's sending a car over, do you think your friend there..."

"Red Hood." Peter contributed

"Red Hood...Do you think he can hang in there a little longer?"

"Mr Osborn is on his way down." One of the guards shouted out, a radio in his hand "He'll want to discuss this with you."

"Then lets hope he's faster than my car." Stark said with a smile, inputting something else onto his arm.

Tim hadn't factored in Stark getting involved, but it made sense. If he was anything like Bruce, it made sense that he probably had some sort of tracker on Peter, or at least his phone. Once the storm cleared he'd have realised that they weren't where they were suppossed to be and come to investigate. Tim had to go over to talk with Jason, but he couldn't go over there and have his first impression to Iron Man be struggling to keep it together. He especially couldn't go over there is Osborn was coming down. Peter glanced at him over his shoulder so Tim shot him a small wave and smile to show he was still there and fine, but he made no effort to approach.

"You guys knows each other long?" Stark asked, his tone was casual but his gaze was intense. Understandably so considering a blood covered unknown hero was trying to get between him and his mentee.

"We just met." Jason muttered "Who the hell are you?"

"Tony Stark, Iron Man, any of the above. Any particular business bring you to New York?"

"Its a Strange Situation." Peter said quickly, looking delibrately at Jason

"How do you know about that?” Jason asked

"Later." Peter hissed, before urgently saying something quietly to Stark that Tim couldn't hear.

Tony raised an eyebrow, but seemed to notice Peter's intensity and didn’t push it.

The guards parted, allowing Norman Osborn into the centre of the ring. He had a wide smile that sent a shiver down Tim's spine. His veneers made his smile too big and bright for his face, and did nothing to hide the cold gliny in the mans eyes. He didn't seem very impressive physically, barely taller than Stark and scrawny.

"Mr Stark, always a pleasure to have you drop in." Osborn said with a forced laugh, holding his hand out. Tony kept his arms by his side

"Seems like it's been a busy day for you here. I didn't know Oscorp needed it's own army these days."

Norman forced another laugh

"You know how it is with protestors, you never know quite how they're going to act up. Betrer safe than sorry. Peter, you're here to, what a nice surprise."

"Hello Mr Osborn, sir."

"This whole situation seems to have escalated quite suddenly, would you like to step inside so we can sort it all out?"

"Thanks but no thanks, this is a Stark Industries affair now and I'd rather take this back to my own building."

Osborns smile twitched

"As the incident occured on my property..."

Stark didn't let him finish before turning to Peter

"Legally in your contract kid, you're not suppossed to enter any direct competitors offices without written consent from a Stark Internship Manager."

"But with your permission Mr Stark..." Osborn tried to continue

"But I don't give my permission, and I believe that's my car." Stark said, pointing to a black car with tinted windows that pulled up a short distance away, the driver having stepped out and making his way over.

"I must insist..."

"We'll see you at the expo in a few days Norman, maybe try your best to keep the lights on until then." Stark said, waving for Peter and Hood to follow. Jason hesitated, talking with Peter quietly before following him over to the car.

Peter looked over at Tim, who reluctantly slid over trying to catch up with the group. His limbs ached. He could feel Osborne's eyes on the group, watching Jason slip through his fingers. His fury directed at Stark thankfully seemed to distract him from the additional teenager who slipped into the car.

"Leave your helmet on for now, at least until we're at Stark Industries, there's a chance that he might retailiate." Tim said quietly to Jason, who recoiled which made him collide with Stark who was sat on his other side, who also looked at Tim in surprise.

"Holy shit..." Jason said, looking time up and down "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Stark gave Jason a slight push away, leaning forward to address Peter

"I'm assuming you also know our stowaway?"

"Yes Mr Stark, sir."

"Where the hell are we?” Jason asked Tim

“New York, but a different New York.” Tim said quietly, not appreciating how close Tony was. He’d hoped to get a moment alone with Jason before they were all forced into confined areas so he could fill him in on what was happening and the rough plans he’s created with Peter. Now they were being forced to do everything under the ferocious gaze of an unhappy guardian figure.

Jason thankfully didn’t push the issue too much. He seemed a little out of it, potentially dissociating or going into shock.

Tim still hadn’t had a chance to ask him who’s blood was staining his clothes. How Bruce and everyone else were coping.

It had felt too easy to get Jason, but maybe it wasn’t about him. Perhaps Osborn was counting on wherever Jason went, Tim was sure to follow, and he could bide his time to get both of them later?

But what would he want Jason for?

Tim wasn’t sure how, but Stark’s driver seemed to be able to avoid the typically gridlocked New York traffic flawlessly. Far too quickly, all three of them were following the man into Stark Industries and up the elevator, until they were all sat awkwardly in Stark’s office. It was the perfect setting for making them all feel like naughty children who’d been caught breaking the rules. It was Stark’s space so he had the advantage, and it was inpersonal which meant that while he could grill them to learn more about what was going on, they would gather very little intel on him.

“Time to disolve this fancy dress party I think…” Stark muttered, the rest of his suit seeming to retract into the glowing arc reactor on his chest. Tim was surprised when his right arm seemed to retract and vanish as well, apparently it had just been part of the suit today instead of a seperate prosthetic. He looked pointedly at Jason. Tim gave him a nudge, and Jason crossed his arms across his chest.

“I’m keeping the helmet on.” Jason insisted. Tim sighed, and turned to Stark

“Are we able to have a minute please, Mr Stark?” He asked with a smile, as Stark sat down behind his desk, eyeing them all.

“No can do, kid. I don’t really want to give you the chance to get your stories straight.” He fixed his eyes upon Peter “Can you introduce our guests?”

“I’m Alvin…” Tim started, standing up and offering his hand with a smile. Stark raised his own hand to stop him.

“I was asking Peter.”

Peter was stewing, looking ready for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He looked desperately between Tim and Stark before sighing.

“That’s Tim Drake, he’s the Masked Guy.” He said, staring at his shoes

“That’s what you’re going by now?” Jason muttered

“No.” Tim snapped

“And the guy in the stupid headgear?” Stark pressed

“I only know that Tim called him Red Hood and that’s his brother.”

“So Little Red Riding Hood strayed too far off the path and got lost?” Stark asked Jason

“I’m only here because I wanted to make sure the kid was going to be okay.” Jason said, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed

“I’m 16!” Peter corrected

“So you’re a minor.”

“It looked like the ‘kid’ was the one saving the day back there. Where were you lurking?” Stark directed at Tim

“Peter told me to wait out of the way, so I stayed where he told me to until it was time to leave, sir.”

“And you do what Peter tells you to do a lot?”

“Yes sir.”

Peter scoffed.

“So was it Peter’s idea to leave school in the middle of a storm?” Stark asked

“No sir, that was me. Peter wanted to stay because he knew that is what you would want him to do.“

“How long have you known Peter?”

“A while, sir.”

“How long is ‘a while’?” Stark turned to Peter, who was better than a lie detector. It seemed that Stark was determined to avoid any and all attempts at avoiding telling the whole and complete truth.

He might have more in common with Batman than Tim had origionally given him credit for.

Peter was fiddling with his sleeves, staring intently at the ground.

“We first met a few weeks ago, but he moved with May and me a few days ago.” He said reluctantly. Stark’s face hardened.

“And when were you planning to tell me about your new roomate?”

“It was a unanimous decision not to tell you, sir.” Tim answered for Peter, who had somehow managed to droop even further. Jason was tensing up beside him, no doubt something triggered in him by the ‘disapointed dad’ vibe this whole conversation had taken. “We don’t understand the technology that brought myself and Red Hood here, but it’s apparently nothing that your Dr Stephen Strange is familar with or can trace. We were keen to avoid a situation where an unsuccessful attempt to return me home was attempted. We strongly suspect that Norman Osborn is involved, and so that is why Peter approached you about investigating their company. I was going to pay attention to see if he made any attempts to contact me during the Expo later this week. If either route led to a discovery, we would likely have come to you for further support.”

“So you didn’t tell Strange…”

Jason lurched, and Tim stuck an arm out in front of him as a warning to stay seated

“Different Strange.” He said fiercely, tensed to restrain Jason by force if he didn’t relax back down into his chair.

He couldn’t normally take Jason on if it came to hand to hand combat, but his reactions did seem to be dulled somewhat at the moment. It wouldn’t set a good impression however for them to scuffle in Stark’s office.

“Dr Stephen Strange in this universe is a wizard and former surgeon.” Tim clarified for him, and Jason slowly lowered himself back down as the arm in front of him was lowered. Tim addressed Stark directly “Dr Hugo Strange is an insane psychiatrist back in our own universe who’s attack origionally sent me here. To avoid any misunderstandings, please specify which Dr Strange you are referring to.”

“But this Stephen Strange guy here is involved?” Jason asked

“Apparently not, because somebody decided not to keep him informed about new developments in the case, despite agreeing to that condition.” Stark directed at Peter, Tim’s hand was flung out again to restrain Jason

“He was going to cut Tim’s arm off…” Peter mumbled, Tim’s right arm twitched.

“For fun, or did he have a reason?”

“That’s where Tim’s anchor is…Goblin and Tim both have anchors on their bodies tying them to this world so Stephen’s theory is that if he removes the anchor then he can send Tim back through a portal without him dragged back here.”

“There’s no point even considering that avenue anymore, Red Hood’s anchor isn’t located anywhere that you can easily remove it.” Tim said, pointing out the Thing in Jason’s chest. Stark stared at it, it was located a little way below Jason’s collar bones, almost in the same place as Tony’s arc reactor, and he slumped back into his chair, rubbing his remaining hand across his face.

“Kid, when have I ever done anything that made you think I’d let the wizard chop off some kids arm?”

Tim and Red Hood both looked at Peter, who was the same colour as his Spider-man suit, hands clenched together. He might of mumbled an apology, but it was too quiet for any of them to make out the words. Tony let out a loud sigh.

“You know, stuff like this is why we wanted this whole situation to be handled by the grown ups.”

“If the kid didn’t feel safe going to the ‘grown ups’ then surely that’s on you?” Jason said, and Tim groaned internally

“This is not the time or place for your issues with B.” He muttered, and he was sure that under that helmet, Jason was glaring at him “Mr Stark isn’t Batman, Peter started working as a hero on his own. He wasn’t recruited.”

Peter grimaced.

“You were recruited?” Tim asked, his eyes narrowing

“Well I’d been Spider-Man for a few years when Tony approached me about helping out in Germany…”

“If you’re 16 now…” Jason started

“Nearly 17.”

“How old were you when he recruited you for Germany?”

“He was 15, and more mature than most teens at that age. He tried to decline to offer at first.” Stark said, clearly proud of Peter’s apparent intelligance, but Tim leapt to his feet the same moment that Jason lunged for the desk.

“You should of fucking let him! He was a kid!” Jason was yelling, and Peter had joined Tim at Jason’s shoulders holding him back from the mildly startled looking Stark

“Sit down.” Tim was hissing in Jason’s ear, but he was being ignored.

“He said no and you forced him into your fight for what? If it was bad enough that you didn’t feel you could handle it, why did you need some kid there? To be your little therapy pet when it all started to get too much for you?”

Stark opened his mouth to retort

“Don’t say anything.” Tim snapped “However you’re going to justify it, you’ll make it worse.”

Peter and Tim won against Jason, if Peter hadn’t been trying so hard to match Tim’s force then it wouldn’t have been a struggle at all.

“If you don’t stay down, I’m going to have Peter web you down.” Tim threatened, Jason went to stand again and Tim looked pointedly over at Peter

“Oh fuck off, you weren’t the one just picking up the bodies of B’s latest child army.” Jason spat, and Tim froze. His heart might of stopped. His eyes fell back down to the blood on Jason’s jacket.

Damian. Duke. Steph. Cass.

“Who…” He managed to gasp out

“New kids. Untrained ones he grabbed off the street.” Jason said, his voice filled with venom “He couldn’t cope without his little Red Robin, so he went by Crime Alley, picking up all the little kids there who needed a purpose, who were sick of all the shit they had to deal with. Dressed them up in a brightly coloured costume then watched them die. He’s probably back home in his cave now, scavenging the costumes off their corpses as he works out how he’ll make sure no one works out he had anything to do with it, and plotting how to save the bastards life who ended theirs.”

He’d only been gone a few weeks.

How could it already be so bad?

Jason hadn’t been there after he’d died. Tim had. Tim had seen how it broke the man.

Bruce had lost two of his sons, and now apparently, had the blood of multiple children on his hands.

Bruce would make sure that the families were taken care of. The Wayne Foundation had all sorts of charities availible to help people with the costs of funerals and grave maintenance. Sensors for if anything tried to get in, or out of, the grave. Jason wouldn’t appreciate the practical aspects. He wouldn’t appreciate that Bruce needed to protect their identities even in the face of tragedy. Being able to make those sort of decisions was part of what made him a hero.

But why, after everything, would Bruce be letting untrained kids take on the name? After what had happened with Steph and Jason, after what happened to his dad because he was Robin…

He wanted to call Jason a liar. But he couldn’t.

The blood was right there.

Jason was right here.

“We need to get you home. Now.” Tim said, he was shivering uncontrollably and he wanted to throw up.

Jason being there wouldn’t fix things, but it would help. If Bruce was having to deal with that loss, on top of everything else, that could be the top of the iceberg.

He’d wasted so much time here, trying to be careful. He kept trying to play the long game when he knew, back in Gotham, they would be struggling. If he’d just fixed this, then Jason wouldn’t be here and it wouldn’t have become this bad.

Someone touched him and he recoiled, flinching away from the desk and the red helmet.

Bruce had seen them all be hurt because they had been Robin. He’d always been worried that one small mistake would ruin Bruce’s belief in his abilities and the mantle would be ripped away. He’d had to fight so hard for Bruce to let him help.

At least Bruce had waited a few months before letting Tim become Robin.

It had only been a few weeks.

His mind was filled with young, faceless bodies in red, green and yellow.

They needed to get Jason home. That would help fix things. If they could just get Jason home…

In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

Osborn has essentially proven his involvement by pulling Jason through exactly onto his front door.

In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

Goblin had come looking for, had called for him by name. If he was the one that Osborn wanted, he might be able to negotiate.

In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

They needed to get Jason home. That had to be their number one priority.

In for four. Hold for seven. Out for eight.

He couldn’t trust Jason to cooperate, not when he was so angry at Bruce. He was too emotional about these sort of things. He hadn’t been there. He didn’t understand. They were targetting them, believing they were Bruce’s weakness, but they had to prove that they weren’t as weak as they believed. He had to show that they could come back. If he managed to get Jason home, then everyone would know that he was alright on the other side, until he managed to find his own way back.

He couldn’t panic. If he panicked, then he’d make mistakes. He’d already made too many mistakes, and children had lost their lives because of it.

In for four.

Hold for seven.

Out for eight.

His eyes snapped open. He was on the floor. He could see the desk, where Jason and Stark were still sitting. Stark was staring. Jason was looking pointedly away. Peter was crouched down in front of him, balanced on the balls of his feet. The way Spider-Man always crouched down. The sky outside was a clear blue. There was a pile of vomit on the carpet in front of him, containing his half digested lunch. He found that Peter had thrown his hoodie over his shoulders.

“You’re okay, you’re safe.” Peter was saying softly, and Tim forced himself up to his feet, concentrating on every muscle so that he wouldn’t tremble. He fished a tissue out of his jeans pocket to wipe his mouth and dropped it in the trash can as he took his seat back across from Stark. Jason very delibrately moved his chair away.

“I’m sorry about that, sir.” He said, taking the hoodie off from his shoulders and folding it neatly in his lap.

Stark had already demonstrated that he had influence over Osborn, he could potentially be of use.

“I’m going to call May.” Peter said firmly, getting up to his own feet in a single easy motion.

“I’m fine now. We need to…” Tim started

“Call May. Move somewhere comfortable, and we can talk again once she gets here.” Stark said, getting to his feet and looking directly at Jason. “Do I need to keep you boys seperate, or are you going to play nice?”

Jason got to his own feet, he was significantly taller and broader than Stark.

“I don’t hurt kids.”

“I’ve just seen evidence of the contrary.”

“It’s fine Mr Stark, it’s a family matter.” Tim said.

It wasn’t as though there was a non-upsetting way for Jason to tell him how bad things had become. If he didn’t know, he couldn’t do anything about it.

Stark looked at him, Tim kept his face calm. His posture controlled.

“I don’t know what your families like kid, but here, we don’t do things like that. Not on purpose.” He turned back to Jason, his eyes cold “I’m going to give you some space to work through whatever the hell it is that your problem is, but know the I have eyes and ears everywhere. Any more trouble, physical or verbal, then I’m going to send you somewhere more secure than a clean office. Got it?”

Jason crossed his arms, ready to challanged, but Tim gripped his arm.

“He’s not B and you’re not helping anything.”

“He might not be, but you’re B’s spitting image right now.” Jason said, heading for door and looking back at Stark “Where can I go where I don’t have to look at his fucking face?”

“Right this way.” Stark said, leading the way. Peter called May and said they needed her at the tower, and he’d explain more once she got here. He lead the way to the bathroom, and let Tim rinse his mouth out under the sink.

“You never said that your brother was like that.” Peter said quietly, and Tim shut the tap off.

“He isn’t really, he’s just stressed. It sounds like things back home are worse than I realised.”

“Even if he’s stressed, that doesn’t mean that he…”

“Do you remember that I mentioned I met Batman, shortly after his son was murdered?” Tim interrupted, meeting Peter’s eyes

“Was that his brother or…?”

“Red Hood is the son who was murdered.”

Peter blinked, processing

“But he got away?”

“No. He died. His birth mother sold him out to the Joker, who beat him up with a crowbar and then blew up the building. Batman was too late to save either of them. He was buried. Dead. Killed because he was Robin at the time. He crawled out of his own grave six months later to find that not only was Joker still alive, but I was wearing the costume he died in.”

Comprehension turned to horror on Peter’s face.

“So he hates you because you replaced him?”

“Not anymore, we worked through that. Right now he hates Batman because he sees him making the same mistakes over and over again. He hates whoever is killing kids because adults put them in unsafe situations. He hates that Strange has sent him to another universe because it hurts like hell, and he knows that when he gets back Batman is going to be unbearably protective and brooding. He hates that basically the only thing he now knows about Tony Stark is he recruited a 15 year old to fight his battles for him. He can’t do anything about any of it right now, so he’s lashing out.”

“May and Tony aren’t going to let him get away with talking to you or them like that.”

“It’s fine. He’ll calm down eventually.” Tim ran his hand through his hair and sighed, leaning back against the sink counter “Dick and Alfred were always better at talking to him than I was, even Damian can get through to him sometimes. I’m too much like Bruce and we have too much history…”

“Alfred’s the butler right? Are Dick and Damian your other brothers?”

Tim’s hand clenched around his hair.

He’d slipped up. Again.

He wasn’t planning for Peter to meet any more of his family. He needed to put a stop to this before Strange got a chance to send over Dick or Damian. He didn’t know how they’d pull back from that.

He sighed and lowered his hand.

“We’re all adopted apart from Damian, he’s the youngest. He’s the most like Jason so they have an understanding. Dick’s the oldest, he’s known Red Hood since Batman first brough him home. He had to deal with Batman’s early days on his own, so he gets it better than anyone else.”

“Did Dick help you when you first started working with Batman?”

“He tried, but he was grieving as well at the time. It was difficult for everyone.” Tim straightened up and checked his reflection in the mirror, smoothing hair hair back down. “You should go and speak with Red Hood and get him to calm down before May gets here. Then we can actually start planning what we’ll do next.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine now. I’ll go grab a glass of water from the kitchen and wait there.”

“I don’t think you should be on your own right now.”

“I’m sure that Friday will be watching and making sure that I can’t leave this floor.”

“That’s not what I mean…”

“Jason wasn’t lying, he doesn’t hurt kids. He’s strong, but you’re stronger. You don’t need to be scared of him.”

“I’m not scared of him!”

Tim shrugged

“Then there’s no need to worry. He needs someone more than I do right now, and I’m just going to make it worse. Just maybe don’t tell him about anything you’ve ever done as Spider-Man where you’ve ever gotten hurt.”

Peter checked his phone, his face stern when he turned back to Tim.

“May’s going to be here in like 20 minutes, you need to promise that you’ll talk to her as soon as she gets here.”

“Yes sir.” He said, with a mock salute and a smile that made Peter look even more unhappy. Tim led the way out of the bathroom, remembering the way to the kitchen from his brief tour just a few days ago. He watched Peter briefly chat with Stark before going into the boardroom where Jason was no doubt waiting.

It would all be okay. They’d get Jason home.

Chapter Text

It felt nice to be alone for a bit.

He wasn’t used to living in an apartment. The last few days Tim had always had May or Peter looming over his shoulder trying to make sure he was hydrated and rested or checking in with him emotionally. It was exhausting in a totally new way having to reassure them that he was fine constantly, and it was especially annoying having to try and employ breathing techniques to keep his heart rate even whenever Peter startled him. Peter felt like he should be clumsy, but he was lighter on his feet than anyone that Tim had ever met and there was something frightening about knowing how if it came to a hands-on fight, how easily he would be overpowered.

Even now alone in the kitchen, Tim knew he wasn’t truly alone. Stark could be watching right now through a security feed and of course, the AI Friday would be tuned in to his movements or anything he said. But there was significantly less pressure to perform than there had been back in the meeting room, where he was trying to prevent Jason from completely sabotaging Stark's impression of them. He could just sit at the table in the staff kitchen and let his eyes glaze over the laminated signs reminding everyone to stack the dishwasher.

It was probably wrong that he saw his first family member in two weeks and immediately wanted to get away, but it had hardly been a heartfelt reunion. They hadn’t attacked each other, which was something. Jason right now just needed someone who would let him feel his feelings and maybe get him a clean set of clothes. Tim needed to pull himself back from the humiliation of Stark’s first impression of him being him throwing up on his carpet.

He had already seen some of Stark’s staff go in to clean up the mess and he was sure, worse had gone on in the man’s office, but it was still embarrassing. He wanted to be taken seriously and all he kept doing was cracking at the edges. That probably worked in his favour to an extent, people like May and Peter loved to take care of others. A malnourished and emotionally fragile Tim Drake triggered their desire to protect and support him, and while Stark was unlikely to do this for any old stranger that he came across, he cared about Peter. Now that it was clear just how emotionally invested Peter was in Tim’s situation, Stark was obligated to help however he could without upsetting him. If he thought about it as some sort of strategy, it was easier to deal with. Similar to the friendly persona he’d put on when he needed Peter to bring him to Stark Industries in the first place.

The issue now was Jason. Back home, Jason was the one who could be forgiven for anything. He would always, no matter what else he did, be the Robin Who Died. The one that Batman couldn’t save. Bruce, Dick and Alfred would always see the bright boy who’d had his life taken away too soon and come back wrong. Peter, May and Stark didn’t have the background for Jason, even when Tim had described it to Peter, his reaction had been one of horror and disgust rather than tragic sympathy. He couldn’t even really appeal to Stark losing Peter in the blip, because that hadn’t been personal. Peter had been one of billions of people wiped out in a huge tragedy, it didn’t have the same malice. Tony hadn’t had to remove the costume from Peter’s corpse to protect their identities, and Peter certainly hadn’t come back on a warpath blaming him for the whole situation. He needed them to recognise that Jason needed their help as well, that his outbursts came from a place of fear rather than an intensional desire to harm.

Where was Jason going to live? The apartment was already cramped with three of them, let alone another adult. He could potentially appeal to Peter to let Jason sleep on the couch, but would Jason even go for that? Could Tim move to the couch and give Jason his bunk bed? Tim had never lived with Jason really, they mostly saw each other on patrol, the occasional stakeout, or if Jason came on a rare and fleeting visit to the manor. They rarely spent any significant time together that wasn’t work-related and rarely alone. He couldn’t visualise Jason sitting around the Parker’s dining room table eating pop tarts with them while Tim got ready for a new day at Midtown.

He sighed, letting his head rest on his arms on the table. Maybe they could just move into Feast. It was one of the few shelters that didn't seem to welcome Norman Osborne's presence in exchange for promotional photos and donations. Living in a shelter would allow him to keep an eye on Jason and talk to him about home without them being overheard. He needed to know how everyone was coping, how the whole mess with Bruce apparently recruiting a child army had come about. It felt so drastically out of character, had that been the intention? To throw Strange off his scent? But Bruce, for all his flaws, never intentionally put children in danger. If Tim’s disappearance could trigger something so reckless, then he could only imagine what the follow-up would be with the loss of Jason. Were they making more progress than he had on travelling through worlds? They surely must have, they had access to better resources than he did.
He needed to sort out his emotions about Jason being here. It was Jason that he needed to be supporting in his adjustment period to another world, but he couldn’t shake Bruce from his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking of Bruce all those years ago when he’d succumbed to his grief, unable to hold himself above it any longer. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat and he didn't talk. Even when he hadn’t been wearing the cowl, it's dark stain was suffocating every part of him. They’d come so dangerously close to losing Bruce and Batman, who was going to help him this time? No matter what, they couldn’t lose him again. They might not be able to get him back.

What would Bruce do if it had been him who had been dragged over? Would he have found a way home before things escalated? He wouldn’t keep breaking down crying, that was certain. Tim needed to cut that out before it got any worse, he’d probably cried more in the last few weeks than he had done in years. Back home, when had he last broken down? Sometime before they thought that Steph had died? He hadn’t cried at her funeral; he remembered that much. That was probably something that May would disapprove of, she seemed quite big on feeling your feelings, but he'd like to see how she coped with the constant whiplash of people being gone and then coming back over and over again. Constantly failing to save the people who mattered. If he let himself stop and feel his feelings every time something happened, he'd never get anything done.

He needed to stop thinking about it.
The expo was on Friday, and considering Monday was basically over now that meant he just had three more days to find out about the expo layout and itinerary. At least if they were working with Stark now, they should have access to more information than Peter had previously felt comfortable sharing. It would be stupid to rush into anything before he found out if Osborn tried to use the expo to make contact, especially now Stark had taken Jason out from under his nose. Even if he didn't say anything publicly, it would be really weird if he didn't at least ask Peter what was going on with the guy in the helmet who'd materialised outside his offices. He’d need to talk with Peter about what to say to any of Osborne’s questions, it couldn’t be too far from the truth if they wanted to avoid raising further suspicion. Peter was a terrible liar. If Osborn didn't make any attempts at contact, then Tim would have to work out speaking with him on his own terms to negotiate Jason's safe return home. If he could work into the terms something about Green Goblin’s retirement, that would be a bonus. He didn’t like the idea of Peter being completely abandoned to deal with that issue. Though Osborn hadn’t shown a particular gift for finding people, no one could prevent their secret identity from being leaked forever. Even the best heroes made mistakes eventually.

He needed to put a pin in whatever Osborn would want in exchange for that. He couldn't let himself stew over the idea that it might be him staying in New York for the foreseeable future. Not forever, never forever, Bruce wouldn't leave him here. It might mean having to keep up the appearance that he would stay here.

Dealing with Osborn face-to-face was starting to feel inevitable. He couldn't find out how Osborn had brought them here, or how he'd discovered that they existed, by avoiding him. There were three main ways he could approach Oscorp. The current one they were utilising was the Tony Stark avenue, the most official and of the lowest actual risk to Tim himself, but slow. It also meant that Stark was in control of what information he passed on which was less than ideal. Hopefully, it would result in Stark finding something that would help to stop Goblin from targeting Spider-Man, but he wasn’t overly optimistic that Osborn would just roll over for Stark to send Tim and Jason home. Stark also wouldn’t be able to identify anything from home that would be significant, it would take too long to fill in him on the entire roster of heroes and rogues back home and their relationships with each other. The second option was approaching as a hero with Spider-Man which meant they were most likely to end up confronting Green Goblin rather than Norman Osborn. This was probably his least favourite option for the time being and the one he least wanted to pursue. It was high risk and low reward. At best, they would steal information, but would probably not be able to spend enough time in the building to make any significant progress towards returning home.

This unfortunately left him with option three, approach as Timothy Wayne. The one with the highest risk, but potentially the highest reward. It offered his best chance of talking with Osborn personally and finding out more about his plans, and what he would want from Tim in exchange for Jason’s safe return home as soon as possible. With this approach, he could start planning in more detail once they’d collected information at the expo. For the expo itself, however, he would need to keep his Alvin Draper cover and observe rather than cause a scene.

The problem then looped back to Jason. Despite appearances, Jason would be unwilling to cooperate in any plan where he thought Tim might be putting himself in danger or being 'self-sacrificing'. Worse, he'd be on guard for one. Getting Jason to cooperate in any of his plans would be a miracle since he was so used to working on his own. Whatever happened in Gotham seemed to have shaken him, but that wouldn't last long. Tim also had to be careful of how he pitched any plans to Jason, if you told him to do something with too much authority he might refuse just on principle. Peter could be a good buffer for those conversations though, he seemed to be non-confrontational to the extreme.

His immediate priority needed to be getting the Parkers to warm up to Jason and inviting him to live with them. Failing that, allow both of them to live at Feast. He wasn’t going to settle for them being separated right now, not when he needed to know what was going on at home and Jason needed to be filled in on what they knew here. He needed to maintain the Alvin Draper persona as much as possible until Friday when they would finally be able to discover if Osborn made a move at the expo. He should suggest that Peter talked to Harry Osborne as much as circumstances would allow, he seemed to be quite loose-lipped about what was happening at the company, even if he was in the process of being removed from it all.

He was calm by the time he heard May's hurried footsteps along the corridor and burst into the kitchen, her eyes taking a second to take in Tim sat at the table

"Peter said you'd been sick? Are you alright?" She asked, her cheeks were flushed and she’d clearly rushed here as fast as possible.

"I'm fine now, I think I got it all out of my system"
That didn't stop her from crouching down and placing a hand on his forehead. He stiffened under her touch, still unused to such easy physical contact.

"I thought it was too early for you to go to school..." She muttered, but she seemed unable to feel anything wrong. Her eyes as she looked Tim over were intense, clearly searching for a sign about what could have caused his reaction. He lightly pushed her hand away from his face and tried to smile

"I'm fine, nothing happened at school."

"Except you leaving halfway through the day?"

This felt familiar, the situations where a guardian figure was both angry that you had broken a rule and put yourself into a dangerous situation, while also relieved that you had not been harmed in the process.

"That was a non-school related emergency," Tim said cautiously after a pause. He had basically forced her nephew to bunk off all their afternoon classes, then left him to confront an active shooter alone. It hadn’t been the most successful first day.

"We’re going to need to agree on a plan of action for if there’s another storm like that while you’re at school, it’s not safe for you to just go running off into the city.”

Staying at school hadn’t exactly been the safe option last time.

“Peter said that Mr Stark phoned in for him sometimes when he needed to take classes off for Spider-Man business, I assumed it would be okay.”

“That’s not something that happens on a regular basis, and it’s not what happened today. Neither of you made any effort to reach out to an adult to see if they were handling the situation…”

“Phones don’t work during the storms.”

If Tim had stayed at school, then Osborn would have captured Jason. Stark wouldn’t have been involved at all unless Peter had been dragged there.

He needed to add checking himself and Peter for Stark trackers to his to-do list. There was almost definitely some form of tracking in their phones by default, but if Stark had anything else on them he needed to know. He was fine leaving trackers undisturbed for the most part, depending on who put them there, but if he needed them removed then he liked to know he could.

“This is why we need a plan.” May sighed “I know Tony was going to work on the phone problem. Are you sure you’re alright? Peter mentioned that someone else had been brought over…”

“One of my older brothers, Red Hood.”

May waited for him to say more, and he chewed at the inside of his cheek. Jason hadn’t removed his helmet earlier, he hadn’t revealed his own name. It felt like a betrayal to do it on his behalf, but he also needed May to like Jason. He needed her to see him as a person who needed help, rather than just some anonymous crazy.

“His name's Jason, he’s with Peter now. He’s…” He swallowed, trying to think of the most flattering yet still fairly accurate way to describe Jason. “His bark is a lot worse than his bite. He’s really big on protecting kids and so that’s why he’s latched onto Peter so quickly. If you really want him to open up, ask about Shakespeare or Jane Austen…”

He cut off his ramble, Mays eyes were softening and she reached for his hand, rubbing small circles around his palms.

“And how are you feeling about him being here?”

That was the big question he hadn’t tackled yet. It wasn’t as though Jason had been very happy to see him, but that was understandable considering he’d been dropped into New York from what sounded like an active battle field. Anyone would be struggling to process that whiplash and unfortunately, Jason’s default when he felt threatened was to lash out which meant it was up to Tim to be responsible and not take it personally. It wasn’t too different from when Bruce would berate him after patrols in his earliest days as Robin, his fear often manifesting as yelling and criticism. It was the sort of thing you had to learn not to take personally. The fact that Jason was here though was mostly just extra time pressure, a reminder that he was being too slow and everything at home seemed to be falling apart even faster than he’d anticipated.
If they could get Jason home, that would help.

“It’s…Concerning.” Tim settled on saying, looking down at his own hands in hers, the calluses on his palms and fingers. It would be annoying if they softened because he wasn’t grappling or using his staff as much anymore. “Jason’s fragile, but he pretends not to be. A lot like Batman. When we lost Jason before, Batman really struggled. None of the others were really there, they don’t remember what it was like. If he’s already been making careless choices because I’m gone, I can only imagine…” He trailed off again. The image of Bruce in those early days, grieving, was not something he wanted to tackle right now. The constant orders not to die, to be careful. The threats that if he couldn’t be trusted to follow orders, he would be gone. It was stupid when it hadn’t been anywhere near this upsetting at the time, he’d just gotten on with it. Why was it so hard to do that now?

But he was going to fix it. Move Jason in with the Parker’s. Maintain Alvin Draper. Investigate the Expo. Make contact with Osborne. Get Jason Home.

May seemed to accept that Tim wasn’t much for conversation right now, releasing his hands and getting back up to her feet.

“Do you know where Tony and Peter are?”

“I assume Mr Stark is somewhere keeping an eye on Peter and Jason, they’re just down the hall.”
May got up to her feet and headed for the door
“Wait here, I’ll find out if they need more time or if we can work things out now.”

—

Jason followed Peter into the board room feeling about as enthusiastic as a man to the gallows. He’d taken off his helmet, when no one else was in costume anymore it felt less necessary, and it was safer to detonate when it wasn’t on his head.

It was fucked up for Tim to send some kid he didn’t know to try and calm him down from a rage, and Jason hated that it had worked. He hadn’t wanted to scare Peter who seemed so nervous already about this whole fucked up situation, especially when hearing more of the adults who were supposed to be responsible for him had arrived in the building and wanted to have a chat. Peter was a victim as much as any other kid who wandered the streets trying to take down the worst of humanity.

Logically he knew he hadn’t been fair to Tim, he’d had no way of knowing what was going on in Gotham and honestly just seeing him here was its own kind of miracle. But seeing Tim trying to smooth talk some suit like he was fishing for funds at a gala, when Jason had just been in the midst of hauling frightened kids away from monsters while Batman froze, was sickening. He wanted Tim to be as hurt and angry as he was, and seeing him try and pull back the facade so quickly was disgusting. The kids had gotten into the Belfry and disconnected it from the Batcomputer through Tim’s emergency plans and codes. They decided to dress up as Robin’s to bring Batman under control because they’d seen Tim do it before. At least some of the blame for today’s events had to rest on his shoulders.
But the real culprit was Bruce. He should have refused to ever let there be another Robin after Jason, he never should have allowed anyone to believe that he needed a child in a brightly coloured costume to keep him ‘under control’ which mostly involved letting the fuckers who killed innocent civilians rot in Arkham for a few months until they inevitably broke out and did it all over again. The only thing that would make it so the kids hadn’t died in vain would be if no one ever dressed up as Robin ever again. The knowledge that Bruce was probably in the process of destroying the victim's costumes and making sure they couldn’t be traced back to him made the rage begin to flare up again, and he had to focus on his breathing.

Recentering himself in the boardroom.

Tim seemed to have decided to drop whatever Wayne-Enterprises-Smoozing approach he’d been trying earlier in Stark’s office which was a relief. In all honesty, the kid looked like shit, he’d clearly lost a couple of pounds he didn’t have since crossing over and he flinched uncharacteristically when they approached. Jason took the seat next to him, and Tim shot him a weak smile that didn’t reach his shadowed eyes. The Tim Drake in front of him right now was one who’d been working a case relentlessly without anyone stepping in and making sure he took care of himself, because while Batman might of taught the kid how to take down adults three times his size, he’d never been one to make sure that something as insignificant as a sleep schedule got in the way of his doomed mission to save the world.

Peter went off to mutter with the adults across the room. There were two more than just Stark now, a middle-aged lady with long hair and a large man with a goatee.

“I’d say it’s nice to see you, but that’s probably the wrong sentiment,” Tim said, and Jason shrugged
“Works as well as anything else.”

They didn’t really need to go into the apologies and live it all over again. Apologies back home were normally meaningless and forced from people by Dick or Alfred. Tim wasn’t any more sorry for trying to lie about who he was to Stark than Jason was about losing his temper. He was still angry. He hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true.

“Would we be able to talk later, someone alone, about home?” Tim asked quietly, the smile fading to a concerned frown “I don’t really understand…"

He trailed off, but Jason got it. He didn’t understand how Bruce managed to fuck up on that scale either and he’d been there.

“Sure, but only if you tell me how you ended up with this lot.”

“Mostly nothing going to plan.” Tim sighed “It’s been a long few weeks, but we’re making progress now. Hopefully, we’ll be able to get you home soon.”

Jason’s fists clenched and he scowled.

“You know that won’t actually fix anything right? B and I have barely spoken since you went missing, and he’s currently super pissed at me.”

“He’ll always be happy to see you come back. He misses you, he just doesn’t know how to say it.” Tim’s voice was quiet and his gaze distant, his faith in Bruce’s ability to forgive major breaches of his code was infuriating. Tim could be so smart until he wasn’t.

“Oh for sure, that’s why I’m currently locked out of the cave and Dickface was sent over to give me a talking to.” Jason said

That got Tim’s attention, his eyes wide. Bruce hardly ever locked anyone out of the cave, not unless he was seriously concerned that someone was a danger to themselves or other members of the team.

“Is everyone…?”

“Nope, just me. He’s still mad that I stole your suit. I kept it safe for you, you’ll get it back.”

Tim seemed genuinely lost for words for a moment, his brain speeding through all the possible reasons Jason could possibly have had. Under normal circumstances that would be unthinkable. They’d all been hurt at one point or another by the Robin name being passed around without their permission, they knew how it felt to have their suits stolen. They’d all had Bruce at some point try to bench them and hand in their masks, it was the ultimate display that you were no longer trusted out on the streets, that you were too far gone.

But it wasn’t as though Tim had been currently wearing the suit or working as Red Robin. The suit had been sealed up in the cave for Bruce to gaze wistfully at and feel sorry for himself and his own failings to protect his family. Alfred had told him about how Bruce used to stare at his own Robin costume, even after Tim had taken on the name, reminding himself that he needed to do better this time. Jason just hadn’t been allowing him the chance to repeat that particular self-pitying form of grieving. The fact it had also pissed him off was just a small extra bonus.

“If you stretched it out, you owe me a replacement.” Tim joked feebly, but there was a concern in the comment, worried that someone had stepped in to try and replace him.

“My days of dressing up like a bird brain are behind me. You’ll want to get it cleaned though.”

A replacement probably wasn't a bad idea though. He wasn’t quite sure how long anything would survive hidden in the harbour, even if it was in a lead-lined case. Unfortunately, the amount of places you could successfully hide something from Batman were limited and normally unpleasant. He also hadn’t been as careful as he could have been ripping out all of Babs trackers. She’d given him shit for that as well because they were expensive but it wasn’t like Batman had ever worked to a budget.

“Thanks for adding one more thing to my to-do list,” Tim grumbled, but he didn't sound as upset as he should.

“What’s currently on the list?”

Even here, slouched in a boardroom, Tim would no doubt be working on something. He’d had nearly half an hour on his own to plot and tweak his plans now that Jason had shown up and no doubt fucked them all up.

“Honestly? Right now I just want to go back to the apartment, but we have to get May and Peter on board with you coming home with us. I’m hoping you made a better impression one-on-one with him than you did in the office?”

The tired detached look was gone from Tim’s eyes, and the familiar scheming glint was back.
Jason hated that look.

Tim sending Peter to check on him suddenly made even more sense. He hadn’t just been counting on the kid's presence calming Jason down, not wanting to hurt or scare him. Tim also knew the kid fancied himself a superhero, of course he’d see Jason in distress and want to jump in and save the day.

Tim was too much like Bruce for his own fucking good, constantly trying to bring kid’s into their schemes. Jason was certain that Peter hadn’t been told about this part of whatever plan Tim was coming up with.

“Are you even, like, actually friends with this Peter kid, or just using him for a cheap place to stay and access to a millionaire superhero?” He spat out, glaring at Tim who seemed startled by the hostility. Of course he did. People like Bruce and Tim didn’t think anything about using people for their plots and then discarding them when they no longer needed them.

“Of course I like him…” Tim started to defend himself

“But you’re not friends?”

“Making new friends while passing through another dimension hasn’t been my top priority.” Tim muttered, as he crossed his arms and twisted away from Jason

“He wants to be your friend, you know. It came up when we were talking. He wanted to know if back home you always avoided talking about yourself, and if you always looked so sad. He says you lie a lot, and you think he doesn’t notice. He’s worried that you still don’t trust him.”

Tim was a fucking fraud.

“I trust him more than anyone else here.” Tim muttered

“Except yourself of course, because even if none of your plans work and even if it gets Peter killed, at least you were the one in charge.”

The anger was beginning to resurface, even as Tim refused to rise. Jason wished he would so it would give him an excuse to yell and break things, to let it all out.

"Did Peter mention that Gotham doesn't exist here?" Tim asked quietly, his gaze fixed upon the gaggle of adults around Peter "There isn't a Bruce here to take your anger out on, or a Joker. There's no other me, Dick, Damian or Alfred. There isn’t a Metropolis, Central City or Justice League. I'm the only familiar face you'll find here."

"So be nice to you, or you'll ditch me?" Jason mocked, sensing an empty threat.

Tim gave his head the smallest possible shake.

"Of course not. But we can either work on this together because we both want to get home, or I can work on this without you because Bruce can’t go through losing you again. I’m trying to be patient because I remember how overwhelming my first day was, but don’t think that means I need to take your shit. Whether you like it or not, the people in this room are your only potential allies here.”

Sometimes it felt like Tim saw Jason as less of a person, and more just Batman’s Failure, the weak spot, the wound that they couldn’t afford to reopen. Even when he was trying to be understanding, the only person he was really worrying about was Bruce. Jason caught Peter sneaking a concerned glance over at the two of them, and made an effort to smooth out the glare from his face, not wanting the kid to think it was because of anything he had done. There was no point attacking Tim here when he refused to rise to it properly, maintaining his cold blank mask. Smothering everything under a cowl as usual even when he dressed like a civilian.

He hated it.

The stony silence seemed to last an age before the huddle began taking their seats. The goatee guy, who was introduced as ‘Happy’, who apparently worked for Stark’s security team, very deliberately sat across from Jason. The long-haired lady was Peter’s aunt May and Stark sat between the two of them, directly across from Tim. Now the meeting seemed to be officially starting again, Jason waited for Tim to put back on his slimy smile to pitch whatever plan he had, but his face stayed blank, apart from a small smile when Peter vaulted over the table and quietly asked him if he was okay.

There was something odd about Tim being the person people checked in with first like he was the fragile one who needed to be taken care of. Even now, May was gesturing across the table and Tim gave her a thumbs up to reassure her. Alfred, Dick and Bruce fussed over all of them any chance they got which was always annoying, but this was targeted just at Tim. Jason was just a stranger, a bystander.

“May and Peter have both agreed that, for the time being, you can stay with them, Jason. They don’t want to move Tim if it isn’t necessary and assume you’ll want to stay together” Stark said, looking incredibly unhappy with his decision. Tim however seemed to lose some of the tension in his shoulders and sent grateful smiles to both Parkers.

“You’ll need to hand over all of your guns though, that’s not up for negotiation.” Happy added in quickly

“You can’t be serious…” Jason muttered, glaring across at ‘Happy’. The last thing he wanted to do right now was hand over his only means of self-defense.

“No guns.” Tim said, giving Jason a very stern and Bruce-like look.

“Well what do I use instead, a fucking batarang?” Jason hissed. Tim looked at Peter who was immediately flustered

“We can come up to the lab maybe some time to work on something for you?”

“That would be great, thanks Peter.” Tim said, turning back to Jason, who was certain that the expression on his face conveyed exactly how he felt about handing over his weapons in exchange for a promised lab trip “Have you been relying on firepower so much that you’ve lost confidence in yourself?” He asked in a patronising whisper

“I can fight just fine.” Jason spat, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Then you don’t need the guns.” Tim said simply. Of course it was easy for him to say that, he hadn’t just had to deal with standing face to face with monster men. He was sitting there, clean and fed, while Jason still had blood all over his gloves.

“Happy, can you…” Stark made a shooing motion with his hands, and very slowly and reluctantly, Happy made his way around the table. Jason glared at him the entire time, daring him to approach.

“Don’t be difficult.” Tim said “New York’s homeless shelters aren’t much more comfortable than Gotham’s.”

The idea of Tim Drake in a homeless shelter fit like a square peg through a round hole. Jason had stayed in his fair share of shelters and helped out occasionally, either as Red Hood to break up fights between the goons who always seemed to end up there or as himself with adult reading programmes and in the kitchens. Someone like Tim with his fancy accent and manners was bound to attract all kinds of bad attention.
In the end though it was Peter’s worried expression that convinced him to hand over his weapons to Happy. It was the same sort of expression kids pulled when they weren’t sure if they were still in danger, and he hated that. He was running low on ammunition anyway after the fight in Crime Alley so he needed to work out an alternative.

At least he still had his helmet if he really needed to defend himself.

“I’m going to want them back before we go home.” Jason said to Stark, still glowering

“Sure thing, we’ll keep them safe for you.” Stark said casually, but he watched closely as Jason handed over the four guns on his person, and the remains of his ammunition. He felt unnaturally bare, stripped of his main defence. This didn’t seem to concern Stark however, who carried on talking to Tim as though nothing had happened.

“Peter’s vouching for you, claiming you’re a hero back home. He’s generally a pretty good judge of character so we’re trusting him for now, but if I hear about any more incidents of you taking him from school…”

“That won’t happen again Mr Stark.” Tim said politely “May and I have agreed that today showed that we need to have a pre-agreed approach regarding how we will react to any future storms. I could, for example, go and investigate the storms on my own…”

“No.” Peter and May interrupted at the exact same time. Tim seemed undeterred by this.

“I’ve been investigating the storms for weeks on my own and nothing bad has happened.”

“Apart from the storm at the river where you were stabbed multiple times by bat drones.” May pointed out

How fucked up was this universe is batdrones were stabbing people? Jason looked at Tim from the corner of his eyes, trying to spot where the stab wounds might be

“That was only because Peter webbed me to the ground, I could have dodged them otherwise.” Tim said with an accusatory tone. Peter was clearly still unforgiven for this.

“Or today when you flickered.” Peter added

“What do you mean, flickered?” Stark asked

“It was nothing.” Tim said sternly, giving Peter one of his more Bruce-like looks, the sort that was meant to put you in your place. Jason felt proud that this didn’t seem to affect the kid at all.

“Today by Oscorp, just before there was the big flash of light and Jason came here. It was like…” Peter swallowed, trying to think of the words “It was like someone lowered the opacity, or changed the frequency so he was breaking into static. It wasn’t as bad as Goblin the other day, I couldn’t go completely through him, but he definitely wasn’t all there. We need to work out what happened so we can stop it from happening again.”

Tim did an excellent job of keeping his face still, but Jason didn’t miss the angry way that his eyes narrowed. If Tim had experienced even half of being pulled through dimensions earlier, then that might explain why he felt so off.

If Tim could be pulled back, that was a good thing wasn’t it? It meant that they weren’t stuck on the wrong side of a one way trip

“So if I was being dragged here, you think something was pulling Tim back?” Jason asked, and Peter nodded

“I don’t think it worked because of the anchor, but maybe there’s someone on the other side who tried to pull Tim back? Or could a part of him just tell that his own dimension was nearby?”

“What did you see when you were pulled through?” Jason said, Tim was firmly avoiding his gaze.

Even though it would have been a few hours ago now, Jason’s body still aches like he was recovering from a particularly bad flu. The only thing he’d ever experienced that came close to the pain was the Lazarus Pit. It had felt like it stripped down everything that made up who he was, every single piece picked apart and reassembled wrong. When he’d come to, on the streets, the only things he had known for certain was that he was in pain, and he was in danger. He’d only been able to pull back from his Fight reflex because of Peter, the panic of thinking he might shoot the kid with the large concerned eyes suddenly overtook his fear for himself.

Tim would have gone through that same pain coming over, and apparently re-lived an extent of it earlier today. He hadn’t survived a Lazarus Pit, he probably didn’t have any similar experiences that he could pull from to help cope with it. Jason was more than aware that he was hardly the poster boy for healthy coping mechanisms, but he at least didn’t try and seal it all away in a locked box at the back of his mind.

But Tim had asked to talk to him about home when they were alone. He was always trying to suck up to jerks like Stark, it might just be too much to try and unpack it all right now.

“Fine, don’t tell.” He muttered, but his tone was softer. He hoped that his attempt at giving the topic space showed.

He remembered how much he hated being interrogated about what dying felt like. What happened after death. How it felt to dig himself out of his own grave and the following months before the pit. There were some pains that people couldn’t understand unless they lived it.
“If we can get pulled over here, then surely we just remove these anchor things and we can go back?” Jason gestured to the metal disk in his chest, the one that had tugged painfully at something deep inside of him when he’d tried to tug it out. It seemed like a simple enough solution, without the anchors holding them here they could go home. Tim didn’t seem to notice his own hand lingering over his right forearm.

“There’s a chance we’ll need another anchor to get home, one for our own universe so we don’t get ‘lost in the walls’ as Peter says…” Tim said quietly “There’s a chance that if we just remove the anchors and don’t have anything else for our bodies to cling to, we’ll just get torn apart and lost. This dimension knows we don’t belong here, but we can’t guarantee that our own will be strong enough to pull us back by force.”

Jason had felt himself be ripped apart, scattered and thrown away. It was like drowning in a black sea where there was nothing to show whether you were facing up or down, or where the shore was. He’d clung to that anchor without even knowing what it was at the time, only knowing that if it slipped away he would die. He’d be lost.

“If we remove your anchors, then Stra…Stephen Strange.” Stark quickly corrected himself “Can just send you back with a portal.”

Tim was shaking his head again.

“We can’t guarantee that we’ll still be okay in the wrong dimension without the anchors, and if either side opens up the gap between the walls, the risk is too high that we’ll fall through the gaps. If Strange is opening portals to other worlds near us when we don’t have a tether then we don’t know what will happen. We don’t know enough about how we were brought here to go messing around with it.”

“Tim’s right, we need some way to know that we’ll go back to the right universe.” Jason said firmly.

The feeling of being between spaces was not one that he wanted to relive anytime soon, and if they were stuck without something to reform around they could be trapped like that eternally.

“I’ll be honest, I don’t think Oscorp is capable of making the kind of tech you’re describing. They don’t have anyone on their staff who has done more than a theoretical research paper on the idea of dimensional travel, and their last attempt at recreating my arc reactor literally blew up. Most of their research right now is based on bio-chem, drugs to help with muscle growth and repair or accelerate healing. It seems Pete’s spider was part of that research where they were trying to replicate traits of various animals.” Stark said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Mr Stark, we believe that Oscorp is working with rogues in our world, we don’t think he’s managed this all on his own.” Tim said “Lots of the people we deal with in Gotham have a specific interest in chemical warfare and could be interested in Osborn’s work, or have made discoveries that he could be interested in. Hugo Strange wouldn’t be capable of creating a device for dimensional travel on his own either. If we can pin down how Osborn has been doing it, we can probably find out who’s involved from the Gotham side as well.”

“Whoever it is, they’re doing a good job. We were chasing our tails looking for Strange…” Jason muttered.

“They have to be more careful on our side because of Batman. Osborn seems to be working on his own as far as I can tell. Here the Avengers are basically all gone or retired, there’s less chance of someone trying to stop him.”

“I’m here.” Peter said, looking a bit put out about being forgotten. Jason could see why some villain wouldn’t be entirely put off by a master plan just because he was around. It was like New York just had Robin and no Batman.

“As far as I’m aware, Spider-Man hasn’t been seen for several days.” Stark pointed out, and Peter flushed.

“I was helping get Tim settled!”

“Well maybe taking care of Tim and Jason should be Spider-Man’s priority for now and you can leave Osborn to Strange and me.”

“I don’t need taking care of.” Tim said.

“I’m not being babysat by a fucking high schooler.” Said Jason at the exact same time, colour rising to his cheeks at the indignity of the suggestion.

“The last few days have just been weird. I’m going to go back to Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man stuff as soon as possible. I might even go out on patrol tonight.” Peter said, crossing his arms. “Tim and Jason can be trusted to stay at the apartment while I’m out.”

Tim and Jason most certainly would not be staying put in the apartment playing happy families while Peter fought supervillains on his own.

The adults seemed to realise this. May and Stark turned to look at Happy. He took a moment to process their looks, before the horror set in.
“I don’t have time to look after them all!”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” Jason protested again, but their objections fell on deaf ears.

“Super, so Happy is now in charge of taking Tim and Peter to and from school. Where they will stay all day, unless a grown-up collects them.”

Stark said firmly, looking between the boys “Jason can wait here at Stark, where Tim will be dropped off after school which allows Pete freedom to patrol without worrying about our new friends. Then May can collect everyone from here and take them home, where they will stay until school the next day.”

Stark’s plan was bullshit for all of them, but especially Jason. Tim and Peter would easily be able to slip out of school to do whatever they wanted, if Jason was under arrest in a multi million dollar tech-freaks skyscraper without his guns, he was going to be stuck unless he broke a few windows. Was Stark just expecting him to sit nicely in an empty office with a book while the kids sorted out this Osborn dude?

“Or Jason could come to work with Feast, we always need more volunteers, especially on weekdays.” May added in quickly.

That offer took Jason off guard. He hadn’t expected her to see how terrible Stark’s idea was and take a chance on him. The whole thing was still patronising as hell, but the offer was so well-meaning that he couldn’t find it in himself to protest. He liked most of the volunteers at Gotham’s shelters, usually folks who had been down on their luck in the past and were looking to do their bit to make things easier now they were in a better place. Even since he was a kid tagging along with Bruce to all the Wayne Foundation events, he always preferred when they got to do actual volunteer work instead of gala small talk. There was always something kinder and more honest about people with almost nothing helping their fellow man instead of the scum in the tallest towers signing cheques for tax breaks.

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone with him, he’s dangerous.” Happy said, his brow furrowed.

“I’ve already been alone with him and it was fine.” Peter muttered

“Fine, Happy and Jason will both go to Feast with May. Everyone good with that?” Stark said.

No one at the table, except perhaps May, looked as though they were ‘good with that’ but it was said with such authority, no one brought forward a counteroffer.

“Thank you Mr Stark.” Tim quickly agreed on their behalf. Too quickly. He was no doubt already finding loopholes in what Tony had asked of them.

“Whatever happens with the weather, you two are forbidden from leaving school.” Stark said forcefully, his face stern. “If I hear that you’ve set one toe out of the perimeter, then Jason’s going into lockdown here and Happy will escort you all day. He’ll follow you to class, the cafeteria and the bathroom and he will no doubt complain the entire time. Got it?”

“Tony, that’s not fair…” Happy started, but was silenced by a hand raised in his general direction. Peter and Tim’s eyes both glanced at Jason, who glowered.

If they were the reason he was locked up on his own, they’d be returning to school on crutches.

“Do we have an understanding?” Tony pressed, and Tim deflated.

“Yes sir.”
—

Gotham was a city that was fueled by tragedy, it never stilled to mourn. Babs had her police radio turned on as background noise, reports came in about low-grade criminals taking advantage of the street's destruction. There was nothing significant happening though, nothing that the GCPD couldn’t handle. They would keep the Batsignal turned off tonight.

Steph and Cass were curled up on the couch, both wearing borrowed pajamas and finally sleeping under quilts and blankets. Empty mugs of hot chocolate sat on the floor, the TV playing the main menu of the Night in the Museum DVD. It was only now that they were asleep that Babs felt safe to start going through the Eggs body cam footage, to piece together the events of the day while she’d been trapped in the Clocktower, useless to help anyone down on the ground. She’d barely had time to fight the signal that was jamming their comms and trackers, before she’d get an alert that another safehouse had fallen. In some of them, the very security defenses that were meant to keep threats out had trapped Eggs inside to be torn to pieces by the monster men.

Only the Belfry was left standing.

She knew that they needed to go to the safehouses and clear them, to begin scouting new locations and enhancing their security, but they didn’t have capacity for that tonight. Kate was delivering the twelve destroyed bodies to hospital morgues, while Dick was speeding across the city to notify families that their children wouldn’t be coming home. Alfred, Leslie and Duke were dealing with the survivors at the Belfry, patching up their emotional and physical wounds that they were hardly equipped to tackle.

She’d extended the invite to Duke as well to crash at the Clocktower, but he’d declined. Apparently it was easier to keep moving. She knew what that was like, trying to outrun your brain's replay of a traumatic event, but it would catch up with him eventually. She just had to hope he’d have the sense to seek someone out when it did.

She had to skim through most of the footage, unable to bear the horror of teenagers screaming as they were crushed or ripped apart. Some of them were earnestly trying to protect their friends and civilians, completely unprepared to deal with the size of the threat in front of them. They were trained to give directions, scare off muggers and break up civilian disputes. Not even the ‘real Robins’ had been trained with something like this in mind. It wasn’t the sort of tragedy that anyone could ever prepare for, they’d just been experienced enough that they’d been able to keep their heads on straight.

She couldn’t bear hearing them call into their disconnected comm units, begging for Oracle to send backup and only receiving silence in return. Everytime it had felt like she was coming close to overpowering the jammer that blocked her access to comms and trackers, it seemed to shift in retaliation, trying to block the holes that she was tearing in its defences. She had her suspicions about who was behind it, very few people could successfully keep her out for any length of time, but Calculator normally liked to challange her directly. It wasn’t like him to hide his face like this.

Why would Calculator team up with Strange anyway? Strange’s focus was always Batman, Calculator’s was Oracle. Neither had previously expressed any significant interest in Robins. She couldn’t even find signs of the usual offenders who had reason to target specific Robins. It was all too weird.

She focused on what she could see in the footage instead of speculating further, looking for signs of who he could help.

Strange and his monsters seemed to have come out of one of the old subway lines near Chinatown. Mr Freeze was currently in Arkham, so if he still had any operations in the area they were unlikely to be involved. King Snake however, they didn’t have any recently reported activity. She made a note to investigate the gangs there to see if he was involved in any way. That might be a clue as to why Tim was targeted first at least.
Strange and his monsters had headed straight from Chinatown to Crime Alley, it was no surprise why they would choose that particular street to strike if they truly knew Bruce’s identity. She forced herself to watch Duke and Jason struggle to evacuate the injured Eggs. Jason giving a gun to someone in a Robin costume would normally be an unthinkable sin, but considering the circumstances, no one was going to be called out on it. She watched Batman's appearance, him trying to prevent Duke from running into danger and Jason getting past him. The moment that Jason was ripped apart, Bruce’s hand passing through the space where he just was…

The footage from the Eggs who were held by the monsters wasn’t very good, it was frequently obstructed and moving around, but in the moment that Strange stuck his device on Jason, something else became visible on the ground, near where Duke was struggling to untangle himself from the cape.

Babs pulled up every other camera in the area, until finally a CCTV camera showed her what looked like another person on the scene, someone that none of them had noticed originally during the chaos. They seemed only half there, she could see the street below them right through them. Their face was contorted in pain, emitting a scream she couldn’t hear. But she knew that face.

“Tim…” Babs muttered, freezing the footage. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the knowledge that he had been there. It was their first evidence that he was still alive, but at least in that moment he was suffering. She wasn’t even sure that he knew that he was there, he didn’t seem to be responding to the threat the monster men posed. She pulled up her maps and rolled back the tracking data, her heart pounding as she saw for just a few seconds, a notification for the tracker that Tim kept in his civilian wallet. The thing that didn’t make any sense was the tracker at the exact same time pinging in New York. 43rd Street Manhattan. She brought up camera footage from the street at the time, finding a picture someone had posted on social media. Tim’s shape on the street was even fainter, she wouldn’t have been able to recognise it if she hadn’t already known. It so easily could be written off as a trick of the light. It shouldn’t be possible, and yet…

“How are you doing that…” She whispered to herself, comparing the two images. They were exact copies of each other, apart from the New York Tim’s form’s lack of substance. It was the same tracker in both locations.

Anyone who captured Tim, knowing who he was, would have stripped him of his belongings. The fact he still had his wallet on him was a good sign. He seemed to be alive at least, that in itself was good news.

She pulled up the tracker’s data. The last entry had been at Gotham Prep when Tim had gone missing, there didn’t seem to be any sign of him in New York until now. Had he gone to the city on his own, or had he been sent there? Were the traces of him that she’d seen today because he was trying to force his way back home, an attempt to reassure them of his well being, or just a consequence of him being nearby when Jason was dragged through?

Was that linked to why Strange had targeted Jason? To try and bait Tim into revealing himself? If any of them could remain undetected in another dimension it was Tim, while Jason…Was guaranteed to cause a scene.

Strange didn’t seem to have a script like when he targeted Tim, he didn’t even acknowledge that Jason was there, instead just ranting about Damian. By revealing he wanted Damian, all he was doing was guaranteeing that he’d be kept away from Gotham. Unless it was some weird reverse psychology tactic where he was trying to weaken Bruce by forcing him to keep Damian away? Unfortunately if the footage somehow made its way to Damian, he’d probably try and show up himself, he was never one to back down when he felt directly challenged.

Whatever the case, a direct threat against Damian and Jason’s disappearance was bound to attract Talia’s attention. Babs was sure it was only a matter of days before the League of Assassins involved themself in the whole mess which was the last thing they needed.

Did Strange not know about the League, and Damian’s parentage? It wasn’t exactly public knowledge but there were people who knew. ‘Brucie Wayne’ got around enough that no one had been shocked when a biological child had turned up one day, the press had a field day speculating on his origin, lining his age up with Gotham’s social calendar to make educated guesses on his parentage. Strange wouldn’t just believe tabloid gossip though, he understood Bruce well enough to know that the flamboyant playboy persona was just another mask. Surely Strange wouldn’t want the League getting involved either? Talia would easily kill him for threatening her son. She’d probably come for Bruce straight after for not notifying her that her son was in danger and had been sent to live in another city.

Talia’s appearance however was certain to be another blow to Bruce’s already fragile emotional state. Selina was currently planning a heist in Florence, Italy, but it might be worth contacting her about returning to Gotham. Her on again, off again relationship with Batman was currently in the Off stage, but she was unlikely to appreciate another one of Bruce’s exes coming onto the scene when he was so vulnerable. If she offered some extra emotional support without all the issues that being raised by Bruce seemed to bring, that was a bonus for them, and Selina was bound to appreciate being offered the chance to explore some of Gotham’s most restricted areas with the Bats approval.

Her to do list seemed never ending. Her mouse hovered over the image of Tim, unsure how to deal with it. Normally she’d forward something like this straight onto Bruce, but she was torn. There was a risk that the image of Tim, alive but clearly suffering, not here or there, would be a further distraction. They didn’t have anyone they could afford to send to New York to look for signs of him, and she was struggling to keep her eyes on every corner of Gotham without adding another city into the mix. They needed to remain focused on finding Strange before he caused any more chaos in Gotham. Although it was terrible, Tim was intelligent and resourceful and she was confident in his ability to survive wherever he had been sent. Tim wouldn’t want them to risk the safety of the team and Gotham over him, he’d proven that already.

But her eyes drifted back over to Steph. Even sleeping she didn’t look peaceful, she kept twitching and muttering. If she tossed too much, she was at risk of tumbling off the couch. It had taken some coaxing to get her to even come here, she’d been insistent that she wanted to be alone but that hadn’t really been the case. Even though Steph was scared of Strange and what he did to the Robin’s, she was more terrified at this moment on how Bruce was going to react. She hadn’t wanted to go anywhere that he could find her. Too many times in the past he’d been almost cruel towards her, and the first time he’d truly made an effort to trust her, twelve children had died. With Strange still inaccessible, she was an easy target for his guilt and rage. No matter what else was happening in the city, all the people that Babs couldn’t protect, she was going to protect her girls. She knew that if it was the other way around and he’d known Steph or Cass were alive and not told her immediately, she’d struggle to forgive him no matter his reasoning.

Perhaps providing Bruce with a distraction and some hope wasn’t the worst idea if it kept him off a warpath. Before she could change her mind, she gathered up the tracking information and images and sent them over to the Batcomputer.

She saw the ‘read’ notification only seconds later.
She decided not to ask for permission to contact Selina. The sooner they had more support the better. 

Chapter Text

Jason evened the teams, two Bats vs two Parkers.

May had grabbed a camping cot from Feast so after some shuffling in the living room, and Peter webbing some old sheets to the ceiling to create ‘walls’, Jason had been given his own space. If they’d asked, Stark probably could have arranged larger and more comfortable accommodation for all of them, but they hadn’t asked, and for good reason. Any Stark building was bound to have far superior security than the Parker’s. Tim wouldn’t appreciate those sorts of restrictions. Besides, a bossy billionaire was the last thing that any of them needed around a wound-up Jason.

If Tim had been given the chance to design two people who could settle Jason in, he couldn’t have done a better job than the Parkers. Perhaps it was the work at Feast and the people they encountered there, or perhaps it was the fact Peter could pick up a bus with his bare hands, but they weren’t scared of him. It was reassuring to know that if Tim did need to go and take care of things on his own, Jason would have somewhere safe to be until he could get back to Gotham. Too many worst-case scenarios of Jason locked up in various settings had run through his brain today, he could only imagine a containment cell designed by Tony Stark compared to theirs in the Batcave.

Today had been tense for all of them and so the casual atmosphere back at the Parker’s was a nice change. May had clearly listened when Tim had mentioned Jane Austen, so now Jason was lying on the couch with her high school copy of Sense and Sensibility. The pages were bright and stiff with her pencil annotations which was apparently an abomination, but he seemed to have gotten over it. Or at least decided that he needed to save his energy. He’d been pretty unimpressed when Tim had given him the rundown of his time so far in New York and how little progress he’d made.

He’d only had the basic brief on the situation in Gotham, the need-to-know information about how they’d made basically no progress tracking down Strange. Oracle was still struggling against Calculator and the storms. Damian had been exiled. Steph had tried to form her own team of Robins and it had ended badly.

They needed better contingency plans for when members of their team were removed from the equation. As much as he loved Steph, he probably wouldn’t consult her when it came to making those. He appreciated that she tried to step up and fill his shoes, as she always did, but she had a habit of running into things without considering the full scale of what she was getting into. He dreaded to think of how she would be coping.

Jason wasn’t as close to Steph as he was though, and he’s stayed as clear of the Robin project as he could. He didn’t have any meaningful insights into Cass or Duke either apart from how they’d all been pissed about Tim’s stolen suit.

Would Bruce take the failure of their Robin team out on them? Try to send them away from Gotham like he did with Damian? He couldn’t fire Steph again. He couldn’t. They couldn’t handle the team being split any further. When Bruce was grieving, that’s when they needed to rally around him more than ever. If they couldn’t do it for Bruce, they needed to do it for Gotham. They couldn’t allow her to fall like this.

Tim needed to accelerate things in this dimension where there were fewer active threats so that he could get home and help fix the mess that everything had spiralled into.

It hadn’t taken too long when they were working together for Peter and Tim to design the first ever hybrid product of Stark and Wayne tech, the wireless charger. It was sitting on the dining table now, Tim’s phone in the centre with the familiar Wayne Enterprises logo spinning into life. The entire table was covered in bits of wire, screwdrivers, circuit boards, and a soldering iron. Peter was on his Stark Brand laptop that he’d been given as part of his internship, while Tim was on the heavily customized Dell Computer that had apparently been fished out of a dumpster. It was unfortunate that the dumpster pc had more in common with the Batcomputer than the Stark tech. It felt like another point against Gotham and he needed to find something to redeem her in Peter’s eyes, as he seemed more and more confused about why Tim would want to return home, apart from the fact that it was home.

Tim had never been a writer or a poet. He couldn’t explain the silhouettes of the skyline against the early morning smog. The lack of a grid system to the streets, how one moment you were on a street filled with buildings from the 1700s with cobblestone streets, and the next you would be in front of brand new apartment buildings. The way Gothamites were opportunists, and yes some of them used that trait to take advantage of others, but most of them never turned down an opportunity to improve what was broken. Gotham was resilient, built upon the skeletons of those who came before her, a phoenix rising from the ashes as many times as necessary. Even if he could tell Peter about the myths and legends that Gotham was built upon, he could never understand it. New York was soulless in comparison.

He was trying to retrieve as much information from his phone as possible. If he could retrieve some of his photography, that was just a side benefit.

Everything on the surface level seemed to have been wiped when he was forcibly removed from the Oracle Network by being brought to a universe where it didn’t exist, but by being in a universe without Oracle he didn’t need to work around all her usual security and fail safes. If they were going to try and work out who they were dealing with on the Gotham side, then having access to even outdated information from the Batcomputer would be a huge help.

“Would Jason have anything on his phone worth retrieving?” Peter asked, and Tim sighed. Peter had looked down at the most up-to-date Wayne Tech phone with disgust and had only been convinced to recognise its merits when its memory and life expectancy far outweighed the latest Stark device. Jason refused to let Bruce or Babs modify any of his devices, even if it made them function above anything currently available to the public on the market. If he had his way, he probably wouldn’t have a phone at all and he’d regularly leave the family group chats.

“Jason, do you have any of your phones on you?” He asked grudgingly, and Peter easily caught the two phones that were chucked from across the room. Jason hadn’t even looked up at them. One of them was Jason’s civilian flip phone, the other his ‘work’ phone which was a complete brick of a device. Both of them were an embarrassment to human communication. Tim looked to Peter apologetically.

“These are ancient even by our standards.” He explained.

“Neither of them have worked since I got here,” Jason said, Peter flipped open the civilian phone which still had the generic background from when it came out of the box.

“Did they even work back home?” Tim asked, taking the offensive brick, and Jason shot him a middle finger salute without even looking up from his book. Jason left almost everyone on read and never picked up calls. His phone didn’t even leave his apartment most days.

“I can get you a new phone tomorrow,” Peter promised.

“Fuck no. I’m already counting on Tim to let me know how many trackers that Stark guy already has on us.”

That was apparently worth looking up from the book for. A cold hard stare. A test.

Was Tim going to work with him, or against him?

Peter was doing an exceptionally bad job of concealing his anxiety, suddenly fascinated by whatever was on his laptop screen, and for good reason. The spider-shaped piece of tech that Tim had found hiding in his hood probably wasn’t a Tony Stark original. He’d left it alone for now, but he was planning to look into the information it had collected to get an idea about how long Peter had been following him. Besides, he was basically assigned as Peter’s buddy for the time being with them going to school together and everything. To avoid being tracked completely he’d have to find a way to trick the trackers Stark had on his mentee, or ditch the anxious and sticky teen with super hearing. He wasn’t surprised that Peter had tried to slip a tracker on Jason as well, especially after he had been the one to bring him the new Stark Industries sweat suit from the visitors' centre gift shop.

“If you stand up, I can check you over.” Tim offered. Jason complied. He of course would have done his own checks earlier, but it only took a couple of seconds for Tim to find the spider tucked into the seam of the pants pocket since he knew what he was looking for. The way it curled around the seam to blend in with the rough texture and adjusted its colours to match was incredibly clever. It would be almost impossible to notice if you weren’t looking for it specifically.

“Please don’t break that!” Peter almost begged as he jumped to his feet, panic in his eyes. Jason paused mid-swipe for the spider-tracker to look at Peter with disappointment.

“You’re a narc.”

“I’m not! I just…I thought…It seemed…” Peter trailed off defeated, unable to find a way to justify secretly putting a tracker on someone. It was a pretty embarrassing thing to be caught doing.

“In Peter’s defence, I don’t think he put it there with plans to report back to Stark, I think he’s just new to the whole ‘I have two guys from a different dimension living in my apartment’ thing.” Tim said, placing the tracker down on the table and returning to his own laptop. Having trackers that were so obviously customised to his hero identity was a risky move on Peter’s part, it was much safer to keep trackers indistinct. If you were following someone and didn’t want them to know, you wouldn’t want them to be able to work it out as soon as they found the device. “We would do the exact same thing back home.”

“I wouldn’t.” Jason said, throwing himself back down onto the couch which creaked in protest.

In his defence, Jason probably wouldn’t stick a tracker on just anyone. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t use other methods of surveillance. Even though Jason and Babs seemed to have a decent level of respect for each other's work, and she didn’t report his activities back to Bruce unless she had to, he still preferred to be off her radar as much as possible.

He seemed to have forgotten that Babs had trackers in the sole of his boots, however. Or he assumed those wouldn’t work anymore since his phones didn’t. If he asked, Tim wouldn’t deny that now his WE phone was working he could access the tracker's information, but he wasn’t going to bring it up.

“Which rogues have you dismissed as potential allies of Strange?” Tim asked as he managed to pull up some of the Batcomputers files. He should have already been doing this days ago, instead of moping and worrying.

“Two-Face, Croc, the Falcones, Firefly, Freeze…” Jason started listing off.

“Penguin?”

“Still a maybe, same for Black Mask.”

Did Black Mask know that Stephanie was back? Would he care? Tim swallowed down that anxiety as he pulled up the files. He stiffened as Peter went to look over his shoulder, but resisted the urge to click away. He had to model trusting Peter, working with him, if he had any hope of Jason doing the same.

“How many guys are you fighting back home?” He asked in awe, getting a confused look from both Gotham vigilantes.

“You don’t have a rogue gallery?” Tim asked.

“Not like whatever this is.” Peter gestured at the screen “That ones huge…”

“Bane, he uses this stuff called Venom to make himself stronger.”

“Confirmed to be back in South America.” Jason added.

“Thank God…” Tim muttered, scrolling past. Batman vs Bane was the last thing any of them needed right now.

“Who’s the scary clown?” Peter asked as Tim paused over the familiar grin, the manic eyes. Jason was very still on the couch.

“Joker. He was in Arkham…”

“He’s still there.” Jason said simply, keeping his voice monotonous. “He says that Strange doesn’t have a sense of humour and Robins always come back.”

“So he’s not involved?”

“Not in this. Just a dick.

“Doesn’t it get confusing that more than one of you is called Robin?” Peter asked.

“There’s only one Robin at a time…” Tim started, then remembered that the I Am Robin movement seemed to be going through a revival. How many Robins even were there now? Was it confusing over comms? Could he ask Jason about that?

Jason was just staring at the pages of his book, not reading anymore. Far too still.

“There’s never going to be a Robin again.” He said, his voice cold. Tim looked away and focused back on the computer.

‘That’s not your choice to make,’ he thought to himself.

Batman needs Robin.

As long as there was Batman, and people willing to step forward and take up the mantle, there would be Robin. Not even Bruce could stop it, Jason certainly couldn’t.

Thankfully Peter picked up on the tension and decided not to press the topic. The last thing they needed now was another argument about Robins. That particular topic had been beaten to death with a crowbar.

It was awkwardly silent until May bustled in with arms full of takeout, trying to lighten the mood. It must be exhausting, to be the civilian's support, to have to try and keep everything going and normal while people try to save the world around you. At least with Alfred, that was his only job. May had to juggle it in addition to everything else. It wasn’t fair to compare them really, it was easier for Alfred to make sure that there was always a cooked breakfast available in the mornings, which was one of the few meals that most of them could be in attendance for, or homemade dinners for when they returned from patrol. Peter was trying to cook and May at least grabbed a variety of take-outs so they didn’t eat the same thing two nights in a row, but it was a lot of processed junk.

Tim missed real food.

He was nearly finished with high school now. He’d only returned to the manor and school when Bruce came back to keep up appearances, but after the Strange Situation, he could probably drop out officially stating trauma, maybe get his GED to keep the peace. Once he was done with that, he wouldn’t need to live in the manor anymore. He’d probably go back to working for Wayne Enterprises, and hire a housekeeper or butler of his own to make sure that there were meals in his fridge for him to heat up when he returned from the office or patrol. It was a better option than grabbing quick meals and snacks on the go like he had done every other time he’d lived alone.

Jason didn’t have a housekeeper though.

“What do you eat back home?” Tim asked, and Jason looked at him like he was a complete idiot.

“Where did that come from?”

“I just realised I never thought about it. Like I know Alfred sends you stuff but what do you eat the rest of the time? Do you get takeout or buy ready meals?”

“I cook?” Jason said, like this was the most obvious thing in the entire world. Peter and May looked equally perplexed by where this conversation was going because it was weird to call someone your brother one day and not know what he ate the next. He didn’t know how to deal with Jason in domestic settings when they weren’t just in the dark watching a movie and didn’t have to actually talk to each other.

“But what do you cook?”

Did frozen pizzas in the oven count as cooking? Maybe. Pasta and sauce from a jar could also count.

“Have you worked out some weird way to report my eating habits back to Alfred, because it’s creepy if that’s your top priority.” Jason said, his fork paused over his chow mein.

“I just never really thought about you eating before. Forget it.” Tim went back to his own meal.

There was an awkward pause filled only with the sounds of chewing and cutlery before Jason let out a sigh.

“It varies, okay? I normally make stuff in bulk like chili, lasagna, or curry. Lots of Crime Alley folk give you stuff in exchange for helping them out even if they tell you not to, so sometimes you just have to randomly work a fuckton of zucchini into stuff like chocolate cake.”

If Alfred ever found out that he could put vegetables in chocolate cake, they were doomed. That sounded disgusting. There was also just something very weird about the image of Jason using the knife skills Bruce had trained them all with to cut up carrots for soup. It was like thinking of Dick wearing a suit to a board meeting and sitting still the whole time, or Damian going to Batburger for nuggets.

“Oh, cool.” Tim said, an intelligent response that successfully kept the conversation from continuing.

“I’ve been learning to cook.” Peter added in helpfully when it was clear Tim had nothing else to contribute

“Yeah? How’s that been going?”

“He hasn’t burned the apartment down yet so I’d say he shows promise.” May said before taking a large gulp of her beer to avoid having to make any further comments about Peter’s weak understanding of flavour.

Had Peter noticed the lack of enthusiasm as he served things up? He must have done it. He’d stopped announcing things as ‘Uncle Ben’s Chop Suey’ or ‘Uncle Ben’s Marinara Sauce’. Was he worried that bringing up his uncle was making May sad? Or did he want to avoid her comparing his inexperienced attempts to something his uncle had clearly been good at?

Tim’s eyes drifted back to the photo shelves, the few pictures of Ben shoved at the back. The smiling man in the wedding photo with Peter’s brown eyes, the matching set with his brother.

He knew at least a little about failing to live up to the legacy someone else had left behind.

Jason shot him a dangerous look across the table that let him know he was busted for thinking about him dying again. Tim went back to food, determined to try and be a little bit more encouraging about Peter’s cooking at least.

—

Peter hovered awkwardly in his bedroom doorway, in his Spider-Man suit wringing the mask in his hands.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here if I go?”

“I’m going as well.” Jason said, his helmet under his arm. Tim rolled his eyes.

“I need you to stay here and look over case files with me.”

“I think I’m going to learn more out there on the streets than staring at outdated information on a screen.” Jason said with a scowl, and Peter gave his mask another firm twist.

“I need you here to help me update it. Once we know what we’re dealing with on the Gotham side, we can get a better idea on the information that Osborne has on us, and if we can expect anyone else to be dragged over here. We might even be able to find a way to send an update over to Babs so everyone knows we’re okay.”

“That sounds very important, you should do that.” Peter said, taking a careful step backwards. Jason matched the distance easily and Tim sighed when he saw the challenge in his eyes.

“So you just want me to stay here, and read information you’ve been staring at all afternoon, while Peter goes out to actually see what's going on?”

“I’ll be very surprised if we get another storm tonight. We’ve never had two in a day before. You’ll just be getting in the way of Peter’s normal patrol routes if you charge in there without knowing the city and its dynamics.”

Peter didn’t seem to have any sort of fixed patrol route, but he nodded along. Tim raised his hands in mock defeat as he turned back to his laptop

“I just think it’s risky to charge out there with Peter tonight. He has his own secret identity to worry about, and Osborne saw you leave with Peter today. If you suddenly show up with Spider-Man, who everyone knows works closely with Stark on the same day? He might start putting some pieces together that could put both Peter and May in danger. But if that’s preferable to helping me try and get us home, then go ahead, be my guest.”

Jason was not an idiot. He knew that Tim was trying to manipulate him. But he could also see Peter’s obvious discomfort as he tried desperately to sneak out on his patrol to keep his promise to Stark, while also not getting in the middle of another argument.
They were all so sick of arguing.

Jason stormed off with his Jane Austen, and Peter leapt out of the window. May excused herself to her bedroom with a yawn.

Tim watched the tracker from Peter’s suit head towards the airport, where a bomb threat had been called in which had shut the whole place down. That had probably been overkill, but did guarantee that Peter would be far away from Manhattan for some time. He was a lot quicker at dealing with situations where he could web up a bad guy and move on than inconvenienced civilians being denied cash refunds.
He had his Stark phone set up to notify him when Peter was within a two mile radius of the apartment, which should hopefully be enough time for them to return to the apartment, depending on how fast Peter was swinging. Tim slipped his own tracker from Peter into the bunk bed, watching as it skuttled for the pillow as it changed to match the fitted sheet.

It was with a sigh that he grabbed the ‘I love New York’ hoodie that had basically become his uniform in this universe, with his cheap domino mask and bo staff tucked in his matching backpack. His phones and newly adopted laptop quickly followed. Jason could take the spiderrangs that Peter had lent him for school and forgotten to retrieve in all of the chaos.

“Jason, can you come here and check this for me?” He called out, and was pleased to hear the over dramatic stomping of Jason’s boots. Tim unnecessarily held a finger up to his lips as he gestured for Jason to shut the door behind him.

“I thought we weren’t going out?” Jason said, looking Tim up and down.

“Not with Peter, we still need to have a real catch up and I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling restless.”

“And why were you against doing this with Peter?”

“The kid’s suit is basically a livestream of everything he sees and hears directly to Stark and his friend Ned. Who is a highschooler who runs Spider-Mans official twitter page and can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“How has the kid survived the last few years?”

“I will leave you behind if you don’t suit up.” Tim said, turning for the window

It was safer not to bring up that Peter technically hadn’t existed for five years. Jason could find out about the blip in his own time.

Tim didn’t want to be there when Jason found out about Tony risking basically the entire universe in a crazy time travel plot to bring Peter back, when it took Bruce years to notice that his son's body was missing from its grave. Or how Tony hadn’t hired any more ‘interns’ in Peter's absence.

It turned out that Jason still had his suit on under the sweatsuit which was gross because it still had blood on it, but convenient for quickly leaving the building. He had a domino tucked in his pocket, one he apparently kept on hand for instances where the helmet wasn’t appropriate.

People would look past a lot on the New York subway, but the masked terrorist that had been rushed away by Tony Stark on a slow news day was pushing it.

Even in the middle of the night, Oscorp was brightly lit and contributing to the blue of light pollution above the city. Tim started to set himself up tucked into an alleyway, out of sight of the swooping bats that still searched the city for them. He felt exposed here on the ground, he missed rooftops and grappling, but for the time being this was the best he could manage.

“Why are we back here?” Jason hissed.

“Stark’s publicly accused Oscorp of carrying out research with the intention of moving into chemical warfare and illegal human experimentation, so I’m hacking in under the pretence of being a Stark employee as part of that investigation.”

“Why are we doing that here though?”

“Because it’s atmospheric.” Tim rolled his eyes. He didn’t exactly want to risk them being tracked back to the Parker’s wifi. Hotspotting off a brand new Stark phone in central Manhattan gave far less about them away. He’d spent enough time now lurking around Oscorp that he had a decent idea on where a majority of the security cameras were, and despite a supposed terrorist threat earlier this afternoon, Osborn didn’t seem to think he needed as many armed security at this time of night, with only a handful standing by the offices main entrances

“While I’m working on this, I need you to keep watch and give me a report on Bruce.”

Jason wouldn’t have the details Tim really wanted or needed. His report would be tainted by his current dislike of the man and his choices. Tim was probably the last member of the team he currently wanted to engage with, there were too many emotions about the last time he was taken from Bruce and the aftermath. Tim couldn’t deny that he was struggling with the same thing, though he’d had more time now to deal with it.

It didn’t take much to get past Oscorp’s digital security. It certainly wasn’t Oracle level.

“I wasn’t there, okay?” Jason admitted, keeping his eyes fixed on Oscorp, his hand gripped around one of the spiderangs. “I know he sent the brat to Metropolis the same day and he hasn’t talked to him since. Dick and Alfred have been calling the kid every night. Dick’s really mad about it, especially after B let all those other kids dress up in costumes but he wouldn’t even talk about when the brat might be allowed home. Now Strange demanded Damian outright, he’s probably never coming back.”

“Strange demanded Damian?”

“Some shit about him being the real Robin. Sort of thing the brat said before he grew up a bit. He must know that B would never just hand over his kid, it was probably just to try and stress him out even more.”

“Everyone’s identities…?”

“Safe as far as I know. There were like a few days of trashy articles with ‘proof’ about Bruce being Batman but that kinda killed the rumours. You’re Gotham’s golden boy now, another tragic victim of the city rogues. You can’t go a day without another fluff piece about how hard your life has been, and how wonderful Bruce was for taking you in, and how the whole city is praying for your safe return.” Jason’s tone became more bitter as he went on, until it almost sounded malicious.

Tim’s fingers paused over his keyboard, shifting slightly so he could jump to his feet more easily, watching Jason’s stance carefully.

He wanted to point out that it wasn’t his fault whatever the press decided to write, they just printed whatever would sell. But it was best not to bring up the articles after Jason’s death that blamed him for what happened, even though the details were never made available to the public.

It wasn’t as though Tim wanted to be known as a pathetic tragic victim. He could already imagine the disgusting articles that would say Bruce saw so much of himself in Tim, that’s the reason he’d been adopted, why his disappearance would affect him so deeply. Both were from good families, both were orphaned by villains. Never mind that Tim hadn’t been present for either of his parents' murders. He hadn’t been a defenseless child, he’d been Robin for both of them. Bruce hadn’t let him go to Haiti to save his mother. He’d been too late to save his dad.
Jason had died trying to save the mother who betrayed him. Tim had surrendered.

Jason wasn’t going to attack him. He was under control, his anger wasn’t directed at Tim. He went back to searching through Oscorp’s files, grabbing floor plans for the building and information about muscle growth drugs that caused rats to turn to cannibalism.

“Has anyone come forward looking for Dick?”

“Not yet. Only a matter of time though.”

Saving the best until last?

“What did Strange say when he took you? Did he give any clues about who would be interested?”

Tim was practical. An impressive specimen. Things that Osborne might be interested in. The Robin with business and tech experience who offered support.
Damian was the blood son, Bruce’s DNA. Young enough to still be molded. The most likely heir to the Batman cowl. It was understandable why he would be of particular interest to Strange.

“Nope.” Jason said, popping the P “Just a whole lot of shit about Damian then Bam in my chest when I go up to try and finish the guy off.”

The Thing in Tim’s arm gently nudged the edge of his laptop and he shuddered.

The Robin who died. A good soldier. The one who’d grown up to make his own vow. If Joker didn’t want to finish what he started, then who would be interested in possessing him?

He paused his scrolling as a familiar formula caught his eye “Have any of you been digging into Scarecrow?”

“B was.”

If Bruce hadn’t said anything, it either meant he hadn’t found anything worth acting upon, or he feared what he had found would compromise the team.

“Well, Osborn definitely had his fear toxin formula, and he seems to have acquired it around a month ago…” Tim muttered, continuing to search for anything else that seemed familiar, any signs of information being shared externally.

In a lot of ways, Jason had already stepped outside of Batman’s shadow on his own and forged his own path. Even as Robin, he’d never been one to follow orders. It was hard to imagine any of the rogues wanting to enlist someone like Jason who was so unpredictable. Someone who would always do what he wanted and what he believed was right, regardless of the consequences.

Osborne wanted Tim. Strange wanted Damian. Maybe Scarecrow was less interested in possessing a Robin, and more interested in making one of Batman’s greatest fears a reality?

“You’re doing it again.” Jason spat and Tim flinched.

“Sorry.” He apologised on instinct “What was I doing?”

“You’re thinking about me dying again.”

Tim could hardly promise not to do that anymore. It was pretty significant to both of their careers as Robin. That’s what all this was about, wasn’t it?
Bruce was probably one of the only ones who didn’t draw a clear line between the Jason who was Robin and the Jason who came back.

Was that significant? Were Strange and his allies looking at all of them as Robin rather than who they were now? He tried to think back over Jason’s Robin career, flicking through the significant events he’d photographed in those early days. The villains he’d fought as Robin and as Red Hood, who also knew about the line between the two.

“You said Black Mask was a maybe, what’s he been up to?”

“Drugs, human trafficking, the normal violence. He hasn’t been taking advantage of the chaos as much as we’d normally expect, he’s mostly been business as usual apart from when he just vanishes for a period of time.”

Tim remembered years ago, he must have been around 10, that his parents had received an invitation to a masked ball at Wayne Manor. They’d rushed back from Tunisia to attend, they’d wanted to know more about the Janus Cosmetics buy out that had recently occured, how it was something to do with a childhood friendship between Bruce and Roman. The potential protection for Drake Industries if Tim and Jason could become friends. It didn’t matter to them that, unusual for a Wayne event, the party was strictly no children allowed. Tim had snuck onto the grounds regardless, armed with his camera and a mask of his own. It had been worth the trip and the mosquito bites to catch photos of Jason Todd in his Robin costume jump out of his bedroom window and chase after Roman Sionis in the conservatory. It was one of the first chances he's had to photograph the new Robin.

He’d had to rush home to beat his parents back, Bruce Wayne had ended the party early after he was injured by a falling statue, but the news broadcast the next day was filled with reports about Batman beating Roman Sionis, now Black Mask, and sending him to Arkham.

When Jason had returned to Gotham as Red Hood, Black Mask had been one of the rogues that the Red Hood had beaten and humiliated.

He might be overthinking it, but it was potentially significant that Jason had been involved in multiple significant defeats of Black Masks. His involvement might have nothing to do with Steph at all, she’d been left unharmed at the school. He might still think she was dead.

Maybe Black Mask liked the idea of being involved in wiping out Robins.

He slammed the laptop closed and leapt back as Jason kicked out at the wall.

“Stop fucking thinking about it!”

Tim raised both his hands up in a surrender, looking up from the laptop.

“I’m sorry, I was just thinking…”

“Well stop it!”

Asking Tim to stop thinking was like asking his heart to stop beating.

They wanted to break Batman through his Robins. They take Jason, Bruce is too late to save him again. A city filled with dead Robins. Jason comes back, again. Jason dies for real.

Was sending Jason back to Gotham a death sentence? But if they didn’t get Jason home, then Bruce would continue to deteriorate and if that happened, then Gotham became increasingly vulnerable.

He wished he could talk to Oracle and run his theory past her, to see what Black Mask was actually up to. If it made sense. He wished he could talk to Bruce.
But all he had Jason who was growing increasingly distressed.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” Tim said softly. It was too risky to be out in the open when Jason was like this, if he said the wrong thing then Jason might try and storm Oscorp here and now. They needed to get back to the apartment before May and Peter noticed that they were gone. “I wasn’t just thinking about that, I was thinking about your time as Robin, the before.”

“You weren’t there for any of that. We would have noticed you.” Jason scoffed.

The echo of the words ‘You can’t be that good’ hung in the air. A bloody beating.

Not relevant or useful.

“When we get back home, I’ll show you the pictures to prove otherwise.” Tim said with a smile that he hoped was encouraging. He began deleting any traces he might have left as he disconnected himself from Oscorp before slipping the laptop back in his bag. Peter’s tracker was on the move again, he hopefully hadn’t called May at any point to ask her to check in on them.

“What do you think Black Mask could want with all this? You really think he’s with Strange?”

Tim needed to build up trust. Jason was smart and had been trained by Bruce. An outright lie would make it impossible for them to work together, but the truth of Tim’s train of thought could trigger a reckless outburst. He busied himself for a moment with the cheap zip on his backpack, his teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek.

“I’m just thinking at this point, I don’t have a way to prove anything and I’ll need to look over the Oscorp information more thoroughly, but it’s not unusual for Black Mask to use other people to do his dirty work. He’d have the means to finance Strange’s experiments and help him collect subjects, and letting him be the face of the scheme distracts Batman from other operations.”

“And if all the Bats are gone, Black Mask has a lot more freedom to take control of the city.” Jason muttered.

Tim could see Jason mulling this over. He’d probably know more about Black Mask’s operations than any of the other Bats as he had the best understanding of how the gangs operated and engaged with them the most frequently.

Hopefully he’d just think that thinking about Black Mask just reminded Tim of his death because of what happened with Stephanie, and Jason’s activities when he came back. Hopefully Jason wouldn’t look any further into the idea that Black Mask may have a brutal plan for him in mind. Important to consider and prepare for, but there was no need to vocalise that theory yet, not without evidence.

But could he send Jason home with that unknown still hanging above them? A guillotine blade ready to drop and destroy everything they’d all worked so hard to build up over the last few years.

He couldn’t handle being responsible for another death. For not being able to save another person.
If he couldn’t save anyone, then being Robin had been for nothing. His dad’s death had been a wasted sacrifice.

Sever that train of thought. It wasn’t productive.

“We need to get back before Peter does.” Tim sighed, slinging his backpack back over his shoulder as he headed towards the subway station, Jason making a point of walking a few steps ahead of him

“Ah yes, some of us have school in the morning. Do you think they’ll give you detention for bunking off?”

Tim grimaced

“I’m not going to waste my time in detention. I’m only going to this stupid school because it’s suppossed to help build my cover. I’ve already been a sophomore.”

Academics had been one of his lowest priorities at the time however. He’d only managed to scrape through some of his exams by pleading with teachers about the difficulties of caring for his paralysed father and the rough transition from private to public school.

“Yeah well, enjoy it. You’re lucky that you get to go to school instead of being looked after by some kids aunt all day.”

It was easy to forget that 15 year old Jason Todd had loved school and received excellent grades. Much better grades than Tim had ever managed to maintain. Too often people in Gotham would hear Jason’s accent and just assume he was an uneducated idiot, but he’d read more books than anyone else Tim knew except possibly Alfred. If Jason had the choice about when he graduated from Robin, would he have continued crime fighting? Or would he have continued to pursue academics and literature, or perhaps try to clean up the city through the justice system?

“You are more than welcome to read The Great Gatsby for me if you’re jelous. They’ve apparently already finished the book in Peter’s class and there’s a paper due.”

“How the hell have you avoided reading Gatsby? It’s one of the great American novels.” Jason seemed genuinely appalled, but it was far more lighthearted than the earlier disgust.

“It’s long and its boring.”

“It’s literally less than 200 pages, you could read it in less than a day. If anything good is going to come out of this whole fucked up mess, it’s that I’m going to force you to read an actual fucking book for once.”

Tim groaned, but it was halfhearted. He liked listening to Jason rant on the subway about fictional characters failing to achieve their dreams, green dock lights and how the rich were shallow and corrupt. There was something different about knowing that Jason liked books because Alfred had told him about it when they were dusting the library, ensuring that none of dead Jason’s bookmarks were disturbed, and actually hearing him talk about it.

Jason Todd lived a life before and after his death. A life that he was going to get the chance to keep living. Tim would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

Tim had been in detention before, it was impossible to sneak out of boarding school every night to fight crime without being caught at least once. Thankfully he'd had Alfred there to help bail him out most of the time, or at least stop the trouble from getting back to his dad.

By the time it came around today, he was exhausted. He'd barely slept after returning from his little adventure with Jason the night before and racing back to beat Peter. He'd spent hours converting the new information they'd gathered into code and then copying it into a spare notebook. Everyone's morning routine had also been pushed forward with four people fighting over a single bathroom.

His teachers back home normally didn't bother him too much if he took a nap in the back of class, or even when he skipped, one of the benefits of having Bruce Wayne as your guardian. Midtown was used to academically motivated students, however, even if you did join at the end of April, the teachers called on him relentlessly when they noticed him drifting off. If he wanted to avoid any more detentions, he might even need to start the homework he'd been assigned.

He could blab his way through English from what he remembered about Jason's rant the night before about Gatsby, but he'd never been interested in history. Back home they had been studying the American Civil War. Now he was being asked about the history of Norse Gods who bore little resemblance to the stories he had heard back home. They didn't even mention when Hitler had summoned Thor and tried to make him abduct Winston Churchill.

He almost missed the homeless shelter, where at least he had control over his routines.

“So. You got detention. You screwed up. You know what you did was wrong, but the question is, how are you going to make things right?”

Tim raised an eyebrow at Peter, nodding towards to TV screen that had been wheeled in. He was 90% certain that the current Captain America was black, and that the old guy in the video was dead.

"You don't have Cap PSAs in New Jersey?" MJ asked. She's surprised both of them by ignoring the seats on either side of Peter and settling herself next to Tim, watching him closely

"Uh no, we don't. I guess that's just a New York thing."

Dick would probably enjoy filming PSAs, he loved anything involving cameras and an audience. Or Tim could try suggesting it as a loser forfeit on game night. The idea of Steph lecturing kids that 'the only way to really be cool, is to follow the rules' was funny until he remembered about the I Am Robin movement's resurrection and how it came about, and it made him feel slightly sick.

Steph was always such a relentless force of nature, but she could take rejection hard. He just had to hope that Bruce had grown up a bit since the last time he'd lost Jason and not take it out on her.

MJ was still staring at him, and Tim focused his eyes firmly on Captain America. It seemed almost cruel to have dressed an old man up in his retired costume for something like this, and he could no longer find the humour in it.

"Why did you guys leave school yesterday?" MJ asked, scarily direct.

"That's personal."

"We're all used to Peter vanishing..."

"I don't vanish!" Peter tried to defend himself, but MJ didn't even bother turning around to amuse it. Of course, Peter vanished from school, he was a hero. That would have to take priority over Spanish quizzes.

"If you're used to it then you know that Peter's internship sometimes has irregular hours, especially near the expo."

"Peter's internship never involved talking down terrorists until you got here," MJ said, not with accusation but as indifferently as if she was pointing out the day of the week.

Curse a teenager who actually watched the news.

Though Iron Mans's first appearance in months was probably gossipworthy anyway, especially as it seemed to have made public the sour relationship between Oscorp and Stark.

"That was an unexpected complication we're not allowed to discuss," Tim said, keeping his tone friendly, but turning back to Captain America, who was rambling about peer pressure

"If you're here because of the expo, are you leaving straight after?" MJ asked, not one to be easily shut down. Tim refused to respond. Sometimes the best way to take control of a conversation is to refuse to take part in it.

It was a relief when at the end of the hour, Happy peeked his head around the door saying he was there to collect them. The teacher didn't even look up from their magazine to dismiss them. MJ watched them both leave.

"She doesn't know about your 'internship' does she?" Tim asked quietly, and Peter's face immediately went red

"What? No, of course not!"

"She's going to work it out, sooner rather than later. You need to be careful."

It would be safer to cut her off before she realised the truth. Having civilians involved always complicates things. Peter's eyes nervously flicked back to the school as he climbed into the back of the car. Happy had already vanished into the front, apparently his paycheck didn't extend to closing the door after his passengers climbed in.

"What would you do back home if one of your friends was going to work out your identity?" Peter asked

"I don't have the best track record of maintaining civilian relationships," Tim admitted. Even his relationships in costume were more complicated than they needed to be. "It's not really compatible to lie constantly about who you are and where you're going."

And civilians struggled the understand the choices that they were forced to make in costume.

"It sucks." Peter agreed, slumping back in his seat. Tim's eyes flashed to Happy whose eyes were fixed on the road, grumbling to himself about chauffeur and babysitting duties at rush hour. Jason must already be at the tower with May and Stark.

"Do you ever think about like...which one of your identities feels more 'real'?" Tim asked quietly. He'd been chewing the question over for so long, since before Damien became Robin. Peter was the only person he knew who'd had to hide an identity from his family, the only one who might understand. "Like do you feel more yourself as Peter, or under the mask?"

Peter thought over it carefully, fiddling with the strap of his backpack.

"Peter I guess...Because I interact with more people I know as that. But Spider-Man is freeing because no one knows who I am, it's easier to say what I think because there aren't the same consequences you know?"

"And when you're with people like Stark, who you mostly deal with for hero stuff, who do you feel more like?"

"Peter. He definitely sees me as a kid first and a hero second. Is it like that with Batman?"

"Depends on the day," Tim smirked, but his voice was humorless. It had been strictly professional for a while.

"Well, what about you, are you Tim or...Red Robin?" Peter faltered over the name, uncertain. They'd all just been talking about their time as Robin recently and with the introduction of Red Hood, the name felt foreign. Childishly simple. A combination of both of Jason's known identities. Another inherited name and costume.

"I guess Red Robin now." Tim sighed "Part of why we're in this mess is because if one person's secret identity is revealed, we're all at risk. It's kind of impossible to get close to anyone who isn't in the know, your civilian identity has to wear a mask as much as your hero one."

"I hated lying to Ned and May about Spider-Man..." Peter muttered

"It doesn't count when you lie, no one believes you." Tim teased

"That's not true! No one else has worked it out!"

Tim raised an eyebrow

"Well, I let you know on purpose."

"Of course you did. After I followed you in both your identities without you knowing and always looked away when you took your mask off in public."

"That doesn't count because I worked out yours first."

Tim grimaced, even though at first all Peter had known was that he was from another dimension, brought against his will, it was Tim’s at the library that gave away all their identities. Being careful on public computers was a basic civilian thing.

There were also warnings about not writing down sensitive or confidential information, and his hand tightened instinctively around the strap of his backpack.

Happy gave him a visitor's pass with Alvin Draper on it, accompanied by a scowl, and Tim was surprised when instead of heading back to Stark’s office, they went directly up to Stark’s private floor. The elevator opened directly into what seemed to be a lounge, with floor-to-ceiling glass windows that looked over the city. Jason and May looked small and sat on one of the round couches that were in the center of the room. They were wearing matching bright blue t-shirts with the Feast logo on them. Tim was so used to seeing Jason in his hero suit, or at least a leather jacket, that his unstyled hair in a t-shirt and jeans made him look strikingly normal. Younger. He had to keep pushing the longer white part at the front out of his eyes. His bare arms, which were usually covered, were littered with scars. It was why none of them normally wore short sleeves, but perhaps at Feast, those signs of violence and hardship were respected.

“Where’s Tony?” Peter asked, looking around the lounge

“Arguing with the wizard,” Jason muttered, gesturing to the frosted glass wall, similar to the office downstairs.

“Stephen’s here as well?” Peter’s face paled, but he made his way over to the door. They heard a snapshot of voices as Peter quickly shut the door behind him.

“Good day?” May asked, smiling awkwardly, her eyes drifting back to where Peter had vanished. Tim swallowed a yawn as he sat on the couch near her but with a polite space between them.

“It was alright. Long. How was yours?”

“It was good, Jason’s a huge help. I felt very lucky to have him there.”

Jason crossed his arms tightly across his chest and looked away, but Tim was pretty sure that he was pleased. They both jumped to their feet when the door slammed open, falling into familiar defensive stances. Peter came out, followed by a scowling Stark and a man that must be The Wizard.

Dr Stephen Strange looked at Tim, then Jason, with an expression similar to if he’d found a slug on his desk.

Jason did not relax his stance, but Tim forced himself to stand correctly and send a polite smile to the wizard.

“Sit down, you’re fine,” Stark grumbled, throwing himself down on the couch opposite May

“So you’re Timothy Wayne..” Strange said

“Yes sir, a pleasure to meet you. I hear you’re the interdimensional expert here.”

“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Yet it seems that all of you have decided I should be the last one to know anything about what’s happening and I’m forced to rely upon the morning news for updates.” Strange looked pointedly at Stark

“I knew you’d find out eventually, so why waste my time going through it with you?”

“Because time is of the essence, and you forced us to wait until our best resource of information had completed the school day.”

“I’m here now though, so we can move forward.” Tim sat down and nodded for Jason to do the same. Peter sat next to Stark and Jason thankfully followed. He was perched on the edge of the seat, however, ready to jump up at a moment's notice. Tim subtly adjusted his foot to be firmly on the strap of the backpack in an attempt to keep it secure.

Strange remained standing.

“I’m hoping that Mr Stark has filled you in on everything?” Tim asked politely

“He’s given me the cliff notes version.” Strange said

“Excellent, that saves us time. Is there anything that you need from me in particular?”

“Peter says you have an anchor in your arm. Your friend…” Strange looked at Jason with distaste “Refused to let me near his.”

Jason flipped Strange off.

Tim smothered the anxiety in his chest as he shrugged off his hoodie and flannel shirt before tugging up his t-shirt sleeve, revealing the awful metal device. Peter and May had already seen it so had the courtesy to divert their eyes, but Strange’s eyes locked on it, his gaze analytical.

Strange didn’t ask for permission before taking Tim’s arm in his hands, muttering to himself as he poked and prodded at it. Sometimes his fingers seemed to glow yellow, and the frown on his face became more and more pronounced.

Tim let out an undignified yelp and rapidly tried to retract his arm when a yellow ring surrounded his arm just above his elbow. There seemed to be a window in the air into an empty office of some kind. The Thing hummed and burned. All of his arm through the window hurt. It wasn't the normal ripping and pulling pain that he'd come to expect, but rather a crushing ache.

The setting on the other side of the window changed, and at the same time, Tim screamed. He couldn't hold the sound in. Even though he'd felt it a few times now, the pain of the other worlds hadn't become any easier to bear. For that instant, his arm was being forced through a blender, sliced and torn...

He choked back the sob as Strange released his arm and he pulled it protectively towards himself. May and Peter hovered awkwardly but Jason was on his feet, trembling with rage.

"What the fuck was that?" He demanded, but Strange was unaffected. He was too busy staring at Tim's arm as though it had personally offended him before turning to Stark

"We'll need to X-ray it as soon as possible to understand exactly how it's attached and if we can remove it surgically," Strange said, and Tim hated the matter-of-fact way that he was being ignored, as though he wasn't still attached to the Thing in question. "If it was just the arm we could consider amputation, however..." His eyes glanced over to Jason who looked ready to bite Strange's own arm off and shove it somewhere unpleasant.

Stark approached, and at least held out his prosthetic hand as an invitation for Tim's arm to inspect the Thing, crouching down to look at it up close

"Pete and I can look at trying to find a way to deactivate whatever this is while you look into that." He muttered

"The second window you created, that leads to Gotham, right?" Tim asked Strange directly.

"Yes. It seems designed to reject your original dimension. You won't be able to survive there until the anchor is removed or deactivated."

"But since you don't have an anchor, you can visit Gotham?"

Strange quickly seemed to piece together where Tim was going with this

"I'm not playing messenger pigeon between worlds."

Tim wasn’t deterred by this, rummaging in his backpack and pulling out his notebook and pen, not bothering to look at Strange as he scribbled something down.

"If we can't safely go home without the anchors being removed, they'll need to know that. If you want to be in charge of the interdimensional aspects of this whole mess, then you need to tell them to back off."

Strange's eyes narrowed

"He has a point." Stark sighed

"There are consequences for interfering in other dimensions, I can't just pass notes back and forth."

"I don't need you to. Once I'm done here, this will give them an update on everything we currently know. If you want to hang around a grab an update on what they know it might help, but that's up to you."

Peter leaned over Tim's shoulder to peak in the book, his eyes widening.

It was incomprehensible.

If he hadn't seen Tim writing notes all day in neat cursive, he'd be doubting if they even wrote in English back in Gotham or had resorted to some other bizarre language.

It almost looked like computer coding with the punctuation, inclusion of numbers, and the spacing of the words but there was still something off about it. Every now and then he'd think he was starting to string together a word or two then be back in a confusing word jumble.

When Tim's pen stopped moving, Jason held out his hand for the notebook and pen. He flicked through the pages too quickly to be reading any of it before adding his own short note in Portuguese.

"Is there any point asking what all of that means?" Stark said, gesturing to the book, Tim nodded for Jason to pass it over.

"It's just an update on our current situation and what we know, along with confirmation we're still alive and well over here. None of our tech from home works and everything was wiped, so I can't encrypt anything normally. This was the safest alternative I could think of."

Since this particular code was only used between him and Oracle, he wasn't worried about anyone in the room being able to break it without considerable time and effort. She'd also know immediately that the information was directly from him. A part of him was still hesitant to hand something so compromising over to a stranger, but he had to take some calculated risks. Being overly cautious hadn't helped anything.

Stark spent longer than Jason had staring at the code, clearly trying to make some sort of sense of it all, but even if he could make out the odd word it wasn't as though most of it would mean anything to him. He grudgingly handed it over to Strange who began perusing.

"So who are you wanting me to give this to? Batman?" Strange asked, an undeniable mocking tone to his voice

"No, Oracle. She'll be in the Clocktower in Gotham. Is there anything else you need to know to find her?”

“That’s fine.” Strange tucked the notebook under his belt to free his hands “Will she have any wards I need to be aware of?”

“She shouldn’t, we don’t get many magic users in Gotham. But you’ll probably trigger alarms if you just stroll right in there. How are you with hand-to-hand combat?”

“I think I’ll manage.”

“Even if you tell B to back off, he won’t.” Jason scoffed, and Tim rolled his eyes

“He doesn’t have to ‘back off’ we just need to make sure both side's efforts are in the right places. Without the anchors to study, there’s no point the team in Gotham worrying about this. However, since this all started in Gotham and that’s Hugo Strange’s last known location they’re in a much better position to sort out the ‘why’ of this whole mess.”

“This definitely sounds like it’s going to involve a lot of going back and forth.” Strange sighed

--

Steph was curled up on the sofa, scrolling through her phone with a blank tortured look in her eyes. She was scrolling too fast for Cass to read the posts, but she could see the pictures from the day before. Bat Woman delivering body bags to hospitals across the cities. Commissioner Gordon delivering a statement outside the GCPD. Bruce Wayne making a statement outside the Martha Wayne Foundation. Angry citizens called for the bats to reveal themselves and explain why civilian children were in suits and being targeted by rogues.

Cass wasn’t interested in the phone though. She was interested in the way that Steph kept chewing on the ulcer in her cheek, and how she kept reopening the wound. She’d chewed off all of her purple nail polish and her pinkie finger was bleeding from where she had started to rip away the skin. She kept her knees pulled up to her chest, her arm wrapped tightly around as though if she let go she’d fall apart. Her eyes were still red and puffy, even though she’d run out of tears hours ago.

Everything about Steph screamed anxious, scared, and sad. Cass could read it, but she couldn’t fix it.

It wasn’t as though Cass wasn’t sad or anxious herself, but it manifested differently. While Steph’s sadness right now was paralysing, Cass’ made her restless. She was desperate to be back out on the streets, trying to hunt down Strange. To make him hurt, like he’d hurt her family and her team. To make it so he couldn’t hurt anyone else. If Bruce tried to tell her she wasn’t allowed to go out, she’d go out anyway. He wouldn’t be able to stop her, especially not when there were so many other crises demanding his attention.

But Bruce hadn’t called and told them anything. Babs had messaged him in the early hours of the morning but they hadn’t had any contact since. He hadn’t told them whether he expected them to patrol tonight or if he wanted them to hand over their masks.

Steph was expecting the latter. Maybe she was waiting for Bruce to show up personally and tell them all how disappointed he was in them and how he never wanted to work with any of them ever again.

That would hurt.

But they were a family. Not by blood, but by a much stronger bond.

They needed to stay together, now more than ever.

Cass didn’t have the words to make this better. Even if she did, she wasn’t the one that Steph needed to hear them from. They needed Bruce to tell her that he still trusted her, that she hadn’t failed him. That this was Strange’s fault for releasing the Monster Men, for taking away the members of their family…

The only thing keeping Cass in the Clocktower was Babs request before she went to take a much-needed nap.

Keep an eye on Steph.

She couldn’t leave her friend right now, even if her being here didn’t seem to be helping. Steph continued to scroll. Cass continued to wait.

Until a golden circle began to form in mid-air, gradually growing larger.

The room on the other side was bright with a white light that was such a sharp contrast to the dim yellow bulbs in the clocktower that it was hard to make out any details, especially as the silhouette of a man stepped through the circle and it spun closed behind him.

He was tall, middle-aged, and unfamiliar. His left hand was outstretched with a gold ring across two fingers, his right hand was making careful practiced circles. The air was charged with magic that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. Before the man could even start to take in his surroundings, Cass directed a solid kick into the centre of his chest that made him stumble backwards, but not as far as she’d hoped. He swore, but he didn’t go to hit back, he tried to take a few more steps backwards to widen the gap between them, to start drawing his strange circles again…

He wasn’t used to hand-to-hand combat, and he was reluctant. His hands were scarred and trembled slightly, they had been injured and never quite healed correctly. If she could stay close, then she should be able to take him down…

He’d created some sort of shield to block her, his posture defensive.

“I really hope you’re not Oracle.” He muttered

“Why do you want Oracle?” Cass demanded, directing a kick at the man's ankles to try and throw him off balance. At the sound of Oracle’s name, Steph seemed to snap out of her shock on the sofa and dashed for the door, no doubt to find Babs.

“Timothy Wayne wanted me to pass along a message.”

He wasn’t lying. He was still avoiding her attacks rather than retaliating and she was struggling to find a break in his defences as he continued to widen the gap between them, taking away any hope of an advantage. He didn’t want to fight, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a threat. No one should be able to just enter the Clocktower, and they shouldn’t know that Tim was in any way connected to it.

“Where is Tim?”

“Can we have this whole conversation when you stop trying to attack me?” The man dodged the question and a punch aimed at his face, and Cass was knocked off her feet as the cape over the man's shoulders suddenly lifted as though it was alive and charged at her. She wasn’t able to duck out of the way in time before the fabric wrapped its way around her limbs and torso, pinning her arms to her side and holding her to the ground. She glared at him, her struggles intensifying as she heard Babs wheelchair and Steph’s footsteps approaching.

Steph had pulled a mask quickly over the lower half of her face, and Babs was armed with a taser.

“Who the hell are you?” Babs demanded, her tazer aimed at the strangers chest. Steph’s eyes flicked to where Cass was struggling, torn for a moment between helping her friend or defending Babs. Despite her confinement to her chair, Babs was hardly defenceless, but the idea of leaving her side against an unknown entity was hardly a comforting one.

“Doctor Stephen Strange, from Earth-436.” He said, pulling out a purple notebook with a man using a bow and arrow on the cover “Sent by Timothy Wayne to deliver a message to Oracle.” His eyes flicked between them all, before seeming to decide that the woman in the chair, who was obviously not a highschooler, was the one he was after.

He was irritated, the task he’d been sent on was beneath him. He didn’t look anything like Hugo Strange, his eyes were tired rather than manic. His hair brown and slightly curled rather than thinning and grey. Despite Cass’ attack, he’d made no efforts to harm her in return.

“Are you a friend of Tim’s?” Babs asked, still defensive.

“We’re working towards the same goal of returning him to his own world, as soon as possible. I’ve only just had the pleasure of meeting him properly.”

“If you’ll release my friend over there, I’ll be happy to discuss the situation with you.” Babs said, nodding over to Cass who hadn’t made any progress against the cape. It was like a finger trap, the harder she fought the tighter it became. Strange gave her a quick glance.

“As long as she promises not to try and attack me again.”

Cass gave him a fierce look, but forced her body to relax. Seemingly satisfied, the cape returned to it’s masters shoulders as Cass leapt back up to her feet, her glare intense.

“How did you get in here?” Babs’ eyes flicked over her moniters, all of them still showing various CCTV footage from across the city. None of the Clocktowers security had been triggered.

“I can create portals to almost any location, and you don’t have any protection against the mystic arts.”

From the way Babs eyes narrowed, she didn’t like that the oversight had been exploited, even if this stranger did seem to be allied with Tim.

“Timothy should explain it more here.” Strange continued, holding out the notebook towards Babs who rolled over to take it. Cass creapt closer as well, reluctant to remove her eyes from the man or his cape. “In summary, those of us in New York are going to focus upon how to return Timothy and his friend here as soon as possible. You’re in charge of finding out why this happened in the first place, and hopefully making sure it doesn’t happen again.”

Tim’s handwriting was easily recognisable, even if Cass couldn’t make sense of what he had written. Since he was used to fountain pens, Tim always pressed too hard when he wrote with cheaper ball points and his writing imprinted on multiple pages below. His letters always stood straight, not slanting to either side. He didn’t add any unnecessary loops to his letters but he always crossed his ts like an afterthought, the line always a bit too long and low. She could recognise letters and symbols but none of it seemed to form sentances. Babs eyes followed the text however, and her shoulders relaxed.

“Tim and Jason are together, they’re both safe.” She said, inviting Steph to come over from where she’d hung back by the door “I’ll need more time to go through this properly, but they seem to have some friends they’re staying with.”

“So…You’re Dr Strange?” Babs asked, wary.

“Yes, a more common name than I realised apparently.”

“Is it easier if we all work on a first name basis? I’m Barbara, Babs. I work under the name Oracle. These are Steph and Cass, friends of mine.” She gestured between the two of them, and they both scowled.

“Wonderful. I’m Stephen.”

He seemed to realise scowling back at them would be childish as he made an effort to smooth his expression.

“If you can cross over between universes, why didn’t you just bring Tim and Jason with you?” Steph asked, still poised to spring if the need arose

“If I could, I would have. They weren’t brought to my Earth using magic or any technology we’re familiar with. Until that’s sorted, they won’t be able to travel. We’d recomend any attempts from your universe to drag them back to be haulted as they are likely to result in extreme pain and death.”

“Can you wait a minute for me to write Tim a reply?”

Babs was already on her way to the desk and ripped the used pages out of a notebook of her own that had been lying there. Cass was by her side in a moment with a pen. Strange rolled his eyes, but he made himself comfortable leaning against the wall.

“Steph, I need you to print off the maps with the storm data for them.” Babs directed and Steph immediately busied herself at the computers “And grab the victim reports from the other night while you’re at it.”

Steph’s fingers hovered over the keys for a moment.

“Won’t that just upset them?”

“Jason’s going to be shaken and upset anyway, at least this way he can work to get some closure on it all before he gets back. Tim is bound to be more anxious if he feels like he’s missing information or we’re intentionally witholding it.” Babs sighed, her shoulders sagging with the weight of trying to manage the safety wellbeing of an entire team. Normally the workload was better distributed and she only really had to concern herself with Cass, Steph and occassionally Dick. Now everyone was on the cusp of a mental breakdown and in addition to trying to watch every camera in the city and monitering comms, Babs was trying to stop everyone from unravelling further.

“So he’s just as infuriating when he’s at home?” Stephen asked

“Depends, what has he been getting up to in your universe?”

“Playing paparazzi with a local superhero and avoiding our attempts to reach out and help him.”

Steph and Babs both laughed, though Steph’s was a forced and shaky.

“Sounds about right, he likes to do things on his own terms.”

“Following Batman?” Cass asked

“No, we don’t have ‘Batman’. He was following Spider-Man.”

Cass imagined a dark, long limbed hero, scuttling across the walls, lowering himself from the rafters of warehouses. Most people were scared of spiders, it was an appropriate creature to name a hero after, and she could imagine why Tim would be drawn towards him.

The sounds of the computer keys stopped suddenly, Steph’s breathing halting on a sharp inhale. Cass was by her side in an instant, taking in her friends raised heart rate, her wide eyes fixed to the image on the screen. Cass’s own body stiffened, a trained response to prevent her from recoiling. It was a snapshot of a brief moment, Hugo Strange forcing the device, whatever it was, on Jason who was contorted with obvious pain and fear. On the ground, next to Duke, was Tim. Only a faint outline of him, but he was recognisable, collapsed on the ground and clutching his arm in clear agony.

It was like the moment at the school all over again. His short scream in her ears as she remembered the helplessness of watching Hugo Strange’s attack, of not knowing or understanding what had happened to him.

Stephen Strange came over as well, but he only looked at the image with a cold professional curiosity.

Steph was struggling to vocalise her question, her horror. Babs’ fingers were limp around her pen as she saw the girls taking in the scene before them.

“Tim in Gotham?” Cass forced herself to be the one to break the silence

“I don’t think so, not really.” Babs said quietly “At least not all of him. I think a part of him was pulled over when Jason was being taken through. If you go to the next page you’ll see the really stra…weird bit.”

Steph clicked through, showing the weak silouette of Tim on an unfamiliar street. He was in the exact same pose, despite the lack of monsters or violence around him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Steph demanded, her temper rising

“Because I don’t know what it even is. I’m wasn’t going to wake you up to show you something distressing that I can’t explain.” Babs snapped, days of stress and a lack of sleep were catching up with her. Cass looked up at Stephen Strange, who seemed unphased by the argument, his attention was fixated on the picture of Tim.

“Explain.” Cass ordered him, gesturing to the picture of Tim. Stephen Strange’s eyes drifted from her, to the stand off and then back to the image.

“How much experiance do you have with the multiverse?” He asked

“Not too much personally, that sort of thing is normally dealt with by the Justice League who don’t operate in Gotham.” Babs said “We started to realise that’s probably what we were dealing with we started getting weird storms and people’s arms started appearing in the sky.”

“They what?” Steph started

“Show me that.” Stephen Strange spoke over the top of her, not even looking at Steph. Babs moved her out of the way to pull up the images of a red arm up the elbow in the sky, through the shadow of some sort of creature. He seemed to be thinking carefully about how to explain whatever they were looking at.

“We’ve already established that multiple universes beyond the one you’re standing in exist. There’s countless variations and whoever has organised this seems to have gone through a lot of effort to create contact with a universe where they don’t have a direct counterpart. Gotham, and as far as we’re aware, all of it’s inhabitants, don’t exist on my version of Earth. I’m assuming based on the street that Timothy appeared on in New York that Norman Osborn doesn’t exist here?”

“I don’t know…” Babs went to search on the computer

“If he was here, you’d know. Huge asshole. We suspect that he and his company Oscorp are involved on things our side due to power outages and locations of the storms. Your Jason was dropped off right outside his main offices and Timothy was in the vicinity, which is probably how he was able to appear in multiple destinations at once. Spider-Man who was with him at the time said that it was as though Timothy was ‘flickering’ or that his opacity had been lowered. This isn’t normal multiverse travel. It’s clumsy and has been done with only a vague understanding of the process and consequences.” Stephen Strange took in their baffled, and concerned expressions, before snatching Tim’s notebook, turning to a blank page and beginning to draw out two circles.

“For the sake of simplicity, each Earth is in it’s own universe and it’s contents is contained by ‘walls’. When I travel between universes, I create direct doorways from my destination in one universe to another. It recquires a careful understanding of the universes relationships to each other and the empty space in between to safely travel from one to other without causing harm to either one.”

Stephen Strange drew two more circles, overlapping like a venn diagram

“Our friends are trying to force our universes to interact in a way they were never suppossed to. It’s almost like a magnetic attraction, forcing our universes to be too close to each other to the extent that they are beginning to overlap, so that they can take the shortest route possible between the two. This overlap is how we’re seeing things like Timothy in multiple locations, he was slipping through the spaces in the walls where they were thinnest at that time. The shadow here…” He pointed to the picture by the arm “Is Green Goblin, a frequent problem from my version of New York, using the empty space as a short cut to escape. People aren’t meant to travel between the empty spaces between worlds, they can’t exist there. The work around that they’ve discovered is creating ‘anchors’ that are attracted to the ‘magnet’ in their own world. Whatever is anchoring Green Goblin to my universe clearly allows him some control over the universe his form will stabilise in, while Timothy’s anchor is more simplistic.”

He drew plus and minus signs within both the circles. In the side with the plus sign, he added a stick figure with a plus side in it’s blank head and an arrow across to the minus circle

“Timothy’s anchor, and presumably Jason’s as well, is designed to be attracted to the magnet in my universe and reject the one in your own. All attempts to force the anchor away from the magnet result in his form being destabilised, and the anchor trying to pull back to the magnet where he can be reformed. In order to return him to his own universe, and ensure he stays there, we need to ensure that all the anchors and magnets are no longer functional.”

“Piece of cake…” Babs sighed, taking off her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose “I know you said that your side is going to focus on solving the getting them home issue, but we can keep an eye out for the ‘magnets’ on our side. If we find them, do you want us to try and destroy them?”

“It’s safest not to for the time being, until we have a greater understanding as to how they work. I’ll probably have to keep coming back to collect updates for the time being. Are they all going to be encrypted?” He looked down at the notebook Babs had left open. She finished printing off the maps she’d wanted and passed them over before heading back over to finish her letter

“Only the personal information. It’s not generally a good idea to put too much down to paper when secret identities are concerned. I’m not even sure how much of what’s been happening here is of use to you, there’s been a lot of…family drama…And most of this is above our usual pay grade. We’re normally focused on violent and organised crime within our own city.”

“I still don’t understand why Green Goblin or Norman Osborn would be interested in the caped do-gooder of some awful city in New Jersey of all places.”

“Batman is Gotham.” Cass said

“Basically.” Babs agreed “If someone is after anything illegal or dangerous, they’ll find it in Gotham. We have the highest crime rate in America and that’s with Batman keeping the worst of it under control. We have a lot of chemical warfare out here with things like Joker Toxin, Monster serum, Fear Gas…”

“There is no way any of those are real things.” Stephen said in disbelief

“Unfortunately far too real. If someone defeated Batman, it would result in an all out war as everything fought to gain control of the city. I think it’s likely someone from our universe reached out to someone from yours to get help with the Bat problem.”

“And it’s working.” Steph muttered “This is worst things have been in a while.”

Cass slid to her side, taking one of her hands. Steph’s hand was limp and cold in her own, it made no effort to grip back.

“Most of our rogues prefer to work on their own, they’re all kind of self obsessed and don’t think anyone else is as smart as they are.” Babs continued as though Steph hadn’t interrupted “Strange normally prefers to work independently, but we know he’s borrowed money from the mafia before to fund plots against Batman. To create the robots he used in the attacks on the school and create enough monster men for the attacks the other day, would require some serious financial backing. Someone is sponsering this and using Strange as the face of the operation.”

“Do you think anyone from my universe has been brought over here?” Stephen asked

“No new rogues or heroes.” Cass said

“Well that’s the first bit of good news I’ve heard all day.” He sighed

“Has Green Goblin or Osborn over in your universe said anything about why they want Tim and Jason?” Steph demanded

“He seems to want them alive, and badly. We don’t know why yet. Hopefully we’ll get them both back here before it’s relevent.”

Cass felt Steph’s hand twitch, not to hold hers but in an attempt to clench.

“So what have you actually been doing on your side?” Steph asked, a hard edge to her voice. Stephen narrowed his eyes at her.

“We’ve been trying to find the little shit who came over to a universe he wasn’t supposed to be in.”

“So that’s it? In nearly three weeks you’ve been failing to track down a lost 17 year old, and you noticed some powercuts?”

“Steph.” Babs warned

“No seriously, we’re meant to be handing over all our trust in getting Tim and Jason home to some guy who hasn’t accomplished anything? None of you are even slightly concerned about why Tim has suddenly decided to work with him?”

“Tim wouldn’t have sent him here…”

“It’s bullshit!” Steph ripped her hand free from Cass, her voice gradually getting louder until she was almost yelling “How long are we just meant to wait for them to get home? Three years? They might not have that long! He’s already said they don’t understand what’s brought them over there!”

“Have you finished your note to Timothy?” Stephen asked, going over to the notebook. He was clearly trying to pretend that Steph wasn’t there, which only made her angrier.

“Do you even care what happens to them? Or do you just want them out of your hair as quickly as possible?”

“I have no desire to get involved in whatever this…” He gestured vaguely to the city and Steph “Is. I want to send them back to their own universe as quickly as possible, and make sure they stay there, because this isn’t meant to be anything to do with us. Believe it or not, every universe doesn’t revolve around you and your little boyfriend.”

“You’re a dick.” Steph spat, storming over to the couch and picking up her discarded Spoiler costume and making her way over to the door

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Babs demanded, trying to follow

“To find Hugo Fucking Strange and get him to bring Tim and Jason back.”

Steph slammed the door behind her, and Babs buried her face in her hand. Cass didn’t like seeing Babs or Steph upset, but there was an element of relief that this gave her an excuse to leave the Clocktower and get out there to do something.

“I’ll keep an eye on her.” Cass promised, then grabbing her Orphan suit and following Steph. The last thing she heard was Stephen muttering under his breath.

“This is why they always say not to work with children or animals.”

--

The Batcave had a small morgue, designed to hold up to three adult bodies at any time. It was seldom used, as Batman normally went straight to the GCPD’s or hospital morgues to examine victims corpses, but it came in useful every now and again.

The monster men corpses that had been collected from around the city had exceeded what any normal morgue could hold due to their size, the smallest of which came in around 9ft. The Batcave now held 5 monstrous corpses and the temprature was kept below freezing in order to slow their decay as much as possible. Bruce paced the cave while the Batcomputer ran it’s analysis on their blood samples, trying to isolate the corpses DNA to help with identifying them, and the components of Strange’s monster serum.

This was a new monster serum than the ones they had previously encountered. Someone was financing Strange’s research. Despite the apparent rampage, these monster men had clear targets and instructions. Though there had been civilian casualties, most of these had been caused by clumsy feet or being caught in buildings that were caught in the crossfire. The monster men had been evenly distributed across the city near the safehouses, and had only fatally attacked the Eggs with a few civilians caught in the crossfire. They had left the other, trained members of the team alone. Cass, Stephanie and Signal had all escaped with minor injuries compared the trauma of seeing their team mates ripped literally limb from limb.

The Robin costumes they were wearing were cheap, mass produced items purchased wholesale, based upon the earliest version of the suit that Dick had worn. This had probably been at least partially a practical decision as this version of the suit contained the least amount of fabric, it wouldn’t be easy to force monstrous limbs through the arms and legs of a full body suit. No where in Gotham would sell Robin costumes due to the risks of the wearer being targetted in a rogue attack, and there couldn’t be much demand for such large versions of the suits. Bruce normally kept an eye out for people importing Batman and Robin memorabilia, knowing from experiance that those with an interest in his family rarely had good intentions. These had slipped under the radar. Someone with experiance smuggling items into the city under his nose had brought these in.

He needed to chase up on the Black Mask issue. The man himself was mostly staying out of sight, but there had been some reports of his men near the docks and warehouses in the East End. Even if it was unrelated to the Strange situation, it was worth keeping an eye on. He’d have to make time this evening on patrol to see if anyone was willing to talk…

Bruce hadn’t slept since the attack. The manor upstairs was empty even of Alfred, who had been instructed to stay at the Belfry in case any of the kids needed him. Vicki Vale had commentated on how awful he’d looked before the press conference. At least he hadn’t been forced to laugh it off with a story about too much champagne and twins in a hot tub. Bruce Wayne had lost his son in the last attack, and had another son brutally murdered only a few years ago. He was allowed the tell the people of Gotham that he was mourning with them. His offers to pay for the funerals came from a sincere place of understanding their loss rather than an attempt to put the Wayne name in the spotlight.

Instinctively, his eyes drifted back to the empty case that normally held Tim’s Red Robin suit. He still hadn’t replaced the glass from when Jason had taken it, even though Alfred had cleaned up the mess.

The timing of Jason’s abduction, so close to the anniversary of his own death, could hardly be considered a coincidence. It had been the day where Joker proved that Robin’s weren’t invincible and that Batman wasn’t there when it mattered the most.

Bruce had made plans for April 27th. He’d made dinner reservations at five different restaurants. He’d booked tickets for a baseball game and the theatre. He’d pulled the first edition of Huckleberry Finn out of the Wayne Family library. He’d worried for months over how he would invite Jason to spend the day with him, just the pair of them. A chance to try and connect again as father and son, outside of the manor, out in the sunshine and out from the masks.

He’d never worked up the courage, and then it was too late.

Over and over again Bruce continued to allow children to fight in his doomed war against the worst that his city to conjure, and he continued to fail them. He continued to fail the families of Gotham who he was so determined to protect, to prevent them from feeling the loss he’d experianced. No one should lose their family on the cities streets…

“Love what you’ve done with the place, it’s very…cool.” A voice quipped from the staircase. Bruce didn’t flinch as he turned to face the intruder, who was pulling her fur trimmed coat closer “What the temprature in here?”

“Minus 4 fahrenheit. To delay decomposition.”

“Wonderful. I always thought that your basement cave was always lacking in a nice variety of corpses. It adds to the charm.”

“Why are you here Selina?” Bruce said, not quite mustering the low Batman growl but making no effort to conceal his displeasure over the uninvited guest.

“If you didn’t want me here, you really should upgrade your security. Not even the butler upstairs to offer tea or pull out the shot gun, it makes a girl feel positively unwelcome.” Selina Kyle finished her descent of the staircase, wrinkling her nose in disgust at the nearest monster man. There were three bullet holes in the creatures skull.

The Batcomputer alerted it had concluded it's sample analysis and Bruce stormed over to look over the results. A match hadn't been found for the human DNA yet on this particular body, but he'd compare the x-rays against dental records. Some of it's teeth still had brace brackets attached, which narrowed it down to three of the missing boys.

The serum that had modified these bodies had less in common with Strange's previous work than he'd expected, meaning they couldn't rely on any of their old antidotes. The physical changes were less drastic than they'd seen in previous monster men, they'd retained more of their humanity. The blue eyes that had glared at him with such ferocity as they pursued the young Robins had been human enough to make him hesitate. Leaving them looking like people must have been an intentional design choice to unsettle him and his team. The rampage hadn’t been random, the creatures were intelligant enough to follow specific directions. They’d clearly been given directions to the safehouses, their creator prediciting that’s where the Eggs would be told to retreat. They were able to identify the difference between the Eggs and other members of the team.

If the monster men had simply been sent to the manor, the Clocktower or the Belfry, that wouldn’t have had the same effect. They’d already proven by going after Tim at school that they knew their identities behind the masks. They’d targetted the safehouses and the Eggs.

Only a handful of the safehouses were even semi permanent. Most were hidden in construction sites or empty buildings depending on the needs of the team or which rogues were currently out of Arkham. They held basics such as distress beacons, medical kids and some basic food and sleeping items but that was it. In theory there was nothing to be gained by targetting these temporary spot around the city apart from it showed a far more in depth understanding of how Bruce worked than he’d anticipated.

He was always so careful with the buildings he purchased, bought under fake names with money that passed through multiple bank accounts in various countries. Someone had a lot of experianced eyes watching the property of the city change hands, and had managed to find his safehouses. The next properties he had lined up would also be compromised, he’d have to change the whole system. He couldn’t send the team out on wider patrols without a safe place to retreat to.

All of Bruce’s sons were brilliant, but at times like this he was really feeling the loss of Tim. Ideally that was who he’d delegate changing the safehouse system to, while he focused on finding an antidote for the monster men, tracking down Strange and finding the universe his boys had been sent to…

Bruce hadn’t made any progress in that area. Babs had found their only lead with the pictures of Tim’s faded form in Gotham and New York. He hadn’t found Strange. He still didn’t know who he was working with or what the end goal was.

Every thing they discovered just seemed to lead to more questions, more work, and now there were even less minds to help solve the issues or work out a plan going forward.

Bruce stared at the screen, but he wasn’t comprehending what he was seeing. Words and colours blurred together as he tried to force his brain to focus.

He didn’t know how he was going to face Stephanie. He’d promised to trust her, that they’d work together. You don’t recover from knowing that a child was sent into battle and killed because you put them there. Steph knew the risks more than most having been beaten within an inch of her life and being forced to fake her death.

He hid his startle as he felt a hand on his arm, recognising Selina’s light touch, remembering she was there.

“I think it’s time for you to head upstairs.” She said, her voice stern

“I’m working.”

“You’re brooding.”

“I can’t let Strange get to me.”

“He got to you, and he’d going to keep getting to you if you stay down here on your own.”

“Why are you here Selina?” He repeated the question and she rolled her eyes

“You’re meant to be the detective. Why do you think I’m here?”

“I don’t need you to handle me.”

“Believe me Brucie, that’s the last thing I want to be doing. When this fight was just between your little family and Strange I thought I could stay out of the way, enjoy some warm weather and acquire some new art. But he’s made this about Gotham now, and I’m not letting this city fall into that maniacs hands.”

Bruce grunted, going back to the computer. He ran the isolated materials against the other toxins, poisons and serums they’d encountered in the database. If he could find any overlap, he might be able to get a better idea of who else was involved in this, try and nail down a motive. The progress bar was moving painfully slow.

“So is there a reason there aren’t any little birds flitting around the nest tonight?” Selina asked, sitting in the batcomputers chair and curling up, wrapping her long coat even more tightly around herself.

“They’re elsewhere in the city.”

“And are they going to be heading out this evening.”

His fist clenched, the leather of his glove creaking.

“They’ll do what they need to do.”

“And you’re going to head out there after what, 48 hours of conciousness?”

“I have to do something.”

“Go and sleep. All of this…” She gestured widely to the computer, the bodies “Will still be here.”

Bruce went to pace again, trying to keep his body temprature up. He knew he needed the rest, but the idea of sleeping upstairs in the empty manor…He knew that it wouldn’t help. He’d be plagued with nightmares about leaving Duke on the roof to watch his team mate die. Being too late to the school. Finding Jason in the warehouse…His hand passing through where his son had been moments before.All the times he’d failed. When he hadn’t been able to be there.

“Apparently my apartment building was damaged in the attack the other night, and they aren’t letting us back in until they’re sure its safe. I’ll help myself to one of the guest rooms here.” Selina said, carefully uncrossing her legs and standing back up “Surely that butler raised you better than to leave a lady shivering in your basement? Can’t you show me where to put my things?”

He was tempted by the bait, the idea of another person, any person, in the manor made the idea of going upstairs so much more bearable, but then the computer alerted and he dashed back to it.

The new monster man serum had flagged similarities with Strange’s previous work, which was hardly surprising. But there was another unknown componant that he hadn’t seen before. At first glance it resembled Scarecrows work, but instead of altering the brain with fear induced hallucinations this seemed focused upon obediance and aggression. It worked to improve their strength and healing capabilities, so even though they lacked the size of previous monster men they were still just as powerful.

Strange and Crane were both too proud of their own work to collaberate on something like this.

Whoever had helped to adapt this serum was someone else. Someone who hadn’t worked in Gotham before.

None of his rogues would use each others work as shamelessly as this. They all liked their gimmicks and to have their signitures in plain view. This was someone impartial, just doing a job. Hired by someone else who wanted to ensure that their fingerprints weren’t all over the crime scene.

Strange was the face of these attacks, but he wasn’t the mastermind. he was the loud distraction from someone pulling the strings behind the scenes. His deranged ranting about Damian the other day, had he been promised the boy in return for his assistance? Perhaps things hadn’t gone to plan with Tim, and now this was being threatened?

Tim seemed to have been dragged back to their world when Jason had been taken, he’d probably been near the scene of the crime on the other side. He must be conducting his own investigations, which meant he probably wasn’t in custody.

Perhaps the person who’d designed this new version of the monster men serum had been promised Tim in exchange, but Strange had made a mistake when sending Tim over.

Strange had very intentionally placed the device, whatever it was, on Jason’s torso. At the school, he’d thrown it at Tim, who’d flinched.

Maybe that meant he hadn’t ended up at his intended destination.

Bruce focused to calm his breathing, his palms flat against his thighs.

His children weren’t currency that could be passed around between the highest bidders. The idea of someone who would create a serum that would so brutally deform boys to a point they were unidentifiable, having their eyes on Tim, was despicable. He wanted to break their body until even the dental records wouldn’t be able to identify them.

It crossed every moral line to target someones children, to try and steal them for your own selfish goals.

He went back to pacing.

He had a few enemies who might feel that Bruce or Batman had taken their own children from them. They might want to target his own in retaliation. Ra’s Al Ghul. David Cain. Arthur Brown. Slade Wilson.

His foot fell too far too fast, almost as though he’d missed a step. His heart plummating.

The Court of Owls.

He’d taken Dick, their intended Talon from under their noses.

All of their remaining talons were out of commission, locked beneath Blackgate because of him.

He’d taken their bases, turning them into his own safehouses.

He’d fought them for the city and won.

He’d be an idiot if he thought that a society that had held his city under tight control from the shadows for centuries would die. They would be weak, but still watching.

They wouldn’t have the resources to rebuild the Talon Army, and why should they when their army of immortal assasins were just waiting to be defrosted? They wouldn’t want to attract Batman’s attention in their weakened state, so they’d organised someone more distracting.

Perhaps they’d promised Strange he would be their Batman, since the cities current one refused to play by the rules.

Breeding mattered to the Court. They wouldn’t actually care about Strange or give him such an honour when he was a Gotham nobody, with no finances or connections. Strange must know this, perhaps he had his own plans to try and double cross them.

They wouldn’t have been interested in Tim personally, they could give him to whoever had made this serum without consequence. Drake Industries had been fairly new by Gotham standards and had fallen in disgrace.

Jason to the Court would be nothing more than crime alley scum, his use extended only as far as would hurt Bruce.

They would want Dick of course, they’d always wanted Dick since they saw him at Haly’s circus. But there was so grandeur or victory in taking him for themselves, they already felt as though he belonged to them.

Damian however, would have value. There was no way that they would hand the final Wayne and heir to the Demon’s Head over to Hugo Strange. His potential as a talon was too great, the irony of having Batman’s son as one of their own would be too appealing.

The person who made the monster serum wasn’t involved in this fight, he’d left his work unsigned.

But the Court for as much as they liked to keep their hands clean couldn’t resist putting their mark upon their work. They needed the city to know that they were watching from behind granite and lime. If they had anything to do with the boys transformations into monsters, there would be a sign of it.

He went back to the monsters corpse with the braces, vaguely aware of Selina’s voice in the background asking to know what was happening. Threatening to leave.

He pulled back the creatures lips, looking at their teeth, their braces. Flesh and bone could heal but teeth didn’t have that ability. The wire conntecting the bracets had been removed before the transformation, otherwise the teeth would have been pulled out of shape as the body grew. Some of the brackets had come loose during the fight, he could see the tiny residue of the glue where they’d been ripped off. But at the back, there was a lower molar that didn’t have any sign a bracket had ever been attached.

He removed his glove, reaching his hand into the bodies dry mouth. He pinched the tooth between his fingers and pulled…

It didn’t have a natural root holding it into the gums, which had been burned to prevent another tooth from growing in. He knew what he’d find when he turned the tooth over in his palm, but it didn’t stop his disgust as he took in the familiar symbol.

An owl.

Chapter Text

It was tough for Tim to let anyone else near Bab’s notebook. It surprised him how little his protectiveness had to do with the actual contents and more with seeing her handwriting again. He never really saw her handwriting, most of his communication with her was through comms or text, but he could look at her rushed scrawl for hours now. It was physical proof in his hands, that there was a world to return to. One that wasn’t an active war zone littered with the bodies of his team. There was an awful guilty relief that came with knowing that his family was safe when so many others had been altered forever.

Logically, he knew that the world was still there. Stephen Strange had confirmed it when he shoved Tim’s arm through the blender portal, and Jason had provided his own updates, but neither of those experiences had been very effective for soothing his anxiety.

Babs was taking care of everyone. She was making sure that Bruce wasn’t isolating himself. She was keeping an eye on Cass and Steph. Duke was with Alfred. She was making sure that everyone had someone and somewhere safe to go.

She wanted them to come home soon.

The Parker’s apartment was the safest location Tim had found, but it was still too unfamiliar to be truly comfortable. Peter’s bedroom had too much of his own personality to relax in, and only having the lower bunk as his own space made him restless.

He could almost fool himself from the dining table that he was in one of Jason’s safehouses back home, with Jason stretched out on the too-small couch, currently reading his way through Peter’s Animorphs books. Even though they’d eaten at Stark Industries, the smell of the lasagna that Jason was currently cooking wafted through the apartment. He’d picked up Alfred’s tendency to cook when he was stressed, and cookies just weren’t labour intensive enough for his current concerns. 

Tim had spread out with his laptop and his phones, his updates from Babs.

Stark had sent over the list of expo proposals.

Stark’s tests had given them a better idea as to what exactly the anchor was made of and how it functioned. Though the part they could see was metal, it was less of a device than an artificial organ. It was powered by the blood that it syphoned from his veins and arteries and had gone as far as attaching itself to his nervous system. It had been designed for long-term use, something that would remain functional for as long as the host was alive.

He was going to have to trust Strange and Stark to fix that particular problem. Considering that Strange in addition to his ‘mystic arts’ abilities had a surgical background, and Stark’s understanding of technology, it hopefully shouldn’t take them too long to work out a solution to remove and deactivate the device.

That left Tim to focus on the expo.

Considering the accessibility focus of the expo this year, Tim was going through the proposed exhibitions, looking for anything even remotely similar to the anchor. It was too good a piece of tech to keep secret, too expensive not to try and profit off, but perhaps it was also too unique and easily identifiable.

He couldn’t help thinking as he went through the propositions that it was almost a shame that an event like this wouldn’t be possible in Gotham. It would be too easy for Mr Freeze to turn the whole place into an ice rink if he heard even a whisper about some medical advancement that might help his wife, the drugs and medicines would be too easily spiked with fear toxins. Scientists would end up being taken hostage, forced to invent machines for whatever villain of the week's next plot was.

Maybe it was the knowledge of this that was making him place so much importance in the event. Maybe Osborne wouldn’t make any attempts to reach out to him despite the publicity. If he didn’t, then maybe Tim wouldn’t be forced to make contact.

But Osborne knew that Stark had Jason, and Tim would have had to be living under a rock to miss the stories about whether a ‘retired’ avenger should be allowed to interfere on private property. If Tim wasn’t already in contact with Stark, he would have had to approach him after that. If Osborne wanted Tim to approach him directly, he’d need to present him with something worth risking everything over. Not just a way home, but answers.

Though if Tim hadn’t already known Peter, he wouldn’t have been at Oscorp and Stark would never have shown up. Would Osborn realise it was strange for Stark’s intern to be in the centre of the storm when he was meant to be at school?

His eyes drifted to Peter, who was fiddling with some new piece of tech for Spider-Man. The first time he’d gone to Stark Industries, Ned had mentioned that Peter would be the only one of them able to network, how as the hosts intern and protégé he’d have access to the presenters in a way that was completely above what Tim could hope for. Stark as the host would be too busy to fish for information in the way they needed, but Peter could. Osborne had already shown some familiarity with him.

Out of habit, Tim reached for the wrist where his watch usually sat. Of course, he wasn’t wearing it anymore, not since his dip in the river. ‘Alvin Draper’, a family friend of the Parkers from New Jersey, would not own an expensive watch. A broken expensive watch would only raise too many questions.

But Timothy Drake-Wayne knew how to fit in at a gala, how to network and get people to share their secrets. He’d helped Damian, who was naturally one of the unfriendliest people in the world, learn the ropes. Peter was a bit socially awkward but friendly enough, he was certain he could get him in shape in time. 

As usual, Peter reacted just before Tim moved. As he went to slam the laptop closed and get to his feet, the other teen had already startled and was looking at Tim expectantly.

“Did you find something?” He asked, and Tim smiled

“No, but I have an idea. Can you show me what you were planning on wearing to the expo?”

It was hard to know if Stark had even asked Peter if he owned a suit, considering Tim had never seen the man himself wear one. While Stark had lots of AI machines that seemed to fill a similar role to Alfred, they couldn’t be expected to know that Peter had grown since the last funeral he’d attended, and so his black polyester monstrosity from Macy’s no longer fit.

Ai couldn’t be expected to educate Peter that a funeral suit was different than what he’d be expected to wear to a formal business event.

“Well…It’s a good thing you tried it on…” Tim said, painfully aware of how Jason was now watching him like a hawk.

“The jacket and shirt are alright, it’s just the pants...” Peter muttered, attempting again to tug them down and cover the inches of visible ankle on display.

The shirt had a prawn cocktail stain on the cuff of one of the sleeves.

“I might have something of Ben’s in the closet?” May said

Stained shirt. Cheap blazer. Secondhand trousers from a dead man.

Someone had made an effort to shine Peter’s dress shoes, but they couldn’t completely erase the creases in the pleather, the worn-out soles.

It would all give completely the wrong impression. An entirely unacceptable impression.

 “We’ll need to get you a new suit.” Tim said, “You have Stark’s card at least…”

They wouldn’t have time to order Peter anything custom, but they should at least be able to push for alterations to be done in time.

“I don’t want to bother him…”

“You have Happy’s phone number right?” Tim asked May, bypassing the teen entirely “Could he take us shopping after school tomorrow? If he’s driving us, maybe you could even get us permission to leave early? This is technically expo business, for real this time.”

“He does have a job outside of playing chaperone.” May reminded him, but she reached for her phone anyway.

“If they’re going shopping, I’m coming to.” Jason insisted, much to Tim’s surprise

Jason had never shown anything but disgust for anything to do with galas and events. One of the benefits of being legally dead was that his attendance was no longer expected. Even in his Robin days, Jason was far more likely to be patrolling the city than mingling at Bruce’s side.

“I don’t need your help with this, I know what I’m doing.”

“Sure you do.”

There was a moment when the two of them were glaring at each other, but it wasn’t worth a fight.

“If Peter’s alright with it and May doesn’t need you.” Tim shrugged

—

Before he’d been dragged into an alternate universe, Tim spent most days and nights in some form of uniform. Gotham Prep’s was the standard private school blazer and tie fare. Once it was clear that Bruce intended to keep Damian as his Robin, he’d created his version of the Red Robin suit instead of the stolen one he’d travelled the world in.

Tim had always known he would inherit Drake Industries. His parents had always been sure to make sure that his face was known throughout Gotham amongst the people who mattered, and he learned from them how to handle anything that was thrown at him. He’d watched Jack’s undeniable confidence, the almost aggressive charisma as he refused to let anyone he spoke to intimate him. He could stroll up to the most important person in the room, straight into a sales pitch, and make them listen. Janet had always been more subtle, men underestimated how much their wives overheard. She had an uncanny ability to read a room, to anticipate and benefit from disaster. Despite their personal troubles with each other, they’d been an invincible partnership.

Until they hadn’t.

Tim knew how to navigate the corporate world. He’d already proved himself with his work at Wayne Enterprises. He had only returned to high school because it was one of Bruce’s conditions if he planned to return to the company.

Alfred usually ordered most of the family's suits for formal and business events. He always had their up-to-date measurements on file, and with Bruce’s bank card, it had never been an issue to ensure they had something appropriate for every event. Tim liked to choose his own, it allowed him to cultivate the image that he wanted to present. He couldn’t exactly become another Brucie, he was only a Wayne by adoption after all.

It was also just fun to go shopping with Alfred. It had been one of their things. They’d always make a day of it, looking over cuts and fabrics. Alfred always had a good eye for how things worked together, he appreciated quality and a good tailor. There was a tea shop nearby, where they went to discuss the upcoming social events and anything else going on in their lives. No masks or interruptions.

As far as Tim knew, Jason hadn’t worn a suit since he’d climbed out of his own grave, so he wasn’t quite sure why he’d insisted on coming, or why he seemed quite so hostile. Happy had clearly picked up on the tense energy, refusing to leave them unattended and making a great show of adjusting his jacket so they could see the gun on his hip when he opened the car door.

“You don’t want to wear black, you can almost never go wrong with navy blue. Grey is another safe option.” Tim said, rubbing a cuff between his fingers before dropping it in disgust. Acrylic wool.

They were in New York City, with countless suit shops, and there were plenty of brands that Tim recognised from home. Jason had been the one to insist upon the department store. Peter hadn’t known any better so had eagerly gone along with it and Tim had ended up surrendering to keep the peace.

When he did find a jacket that he approved of and passed it to Peter, the teen immediately flipped over the price tag and grimaced.

“It’s just for one night, we don’t need to spend this much…” He’d grumbled

“If you take care of it, then it’ll last you more than one event. It’s important that you make the right impression.”

Tim knew he hadn’t imagined the looks that Peter and Jason kept exchanging, and it was starting to grind on him. With an unnecessary sigh, Peter took a selection of pants and a few more jacket options before being herded off to the fitting rooms.

“What’s your problem?” Tim hissed to Jason

“Don’t know what you mean.” Jason muttered, with a clear scowl on his face.

Tim decided to ignore it and focus on the matter at hand. Peter was slim, but not scrawny, and the off-the-rack pants options that didn’t hang too loose around his hips were limited. Tim was eventually satisfied with a dark grey suit, single-breasted with a single vent in the back. Selecting a clean white shirt was simple enough.

“I already have a tie.” Peter tried to say when he saw Tim head in that direction.

His patience was starting to wane. He was sick of Jason scowling and Peter scuffing his feet and Happy watching ready to pounce. He felt like he was escorting a group of tired toddlers, he could see why Alfred often didn’t bother to involve the family in these shopping trips.

“The tie has to compliment the suit.”

He spent a fair amount of time comparing ties against the suit, before setting on a red and light grey striped option. The nod to MIT, Tony’s Alma Mater, could be a useful way to steer the conversation.

“And that’s everything?” Jason pressed

“We still need a belt, shoes, socks…” Tim shot Peter a cold look that dared him to protest that he already owned socks. Tim had seen the greying black socks scattered around his floor. “Cufflinks and a watch.”

“But I…”

“I know your size, why don’t you just ask Happy to let you wait in the car if this is too boring for you?” Tim snapped, harsher than he meant to. To his surprise, Peter didn’t recoil but hardened his own gaze.

“I don’t need a watch. I have Ben’s watch.”

“Everyone’s going to see your watch when you shake their hands, we need to make sure that you have something appropriate.”

“You haven’t even seen Ben’s…”

“Do I need to?”

“You need to shut up.” Jason scoffed, and Tim’s temper started to rise

“Why am I the only one of us taking this seriously? If we let him show up looking like some scruffy, snot-nosed kid, then no one of substance is going to talk to him!”

“I’d rather be a snot-nosed kid than a cold snob.”

Peter shoved the hangers on a random rack before storming out, closely followed by Jason. Happy dithered for a moment, gave Tim a reproachful look, then followed.

He’d worked too hard choosing everything to leave empty-handed. The rest of his purchases were practical and understated, selected without enthusiasm. He paid for the whole thing using Stark’s card and paid extra so that the alterations would be prioritised.

The only thing from his list that he didn’t buy was the watch. Let Peter show off whatever Ben had owned. It wasn’t his problem anymore.

—

Peter threw himself down on a display couch.

“I knew he was rich but seriously!” Peter exclaimed, not for the first time “What the hell is his problem?”

Jason, for the first time, wished that Dick had been the one to be dragged here.

He wasn’t sure exactly what lightbulb moment Tim had the night before, but he’d come up with some sort of plan he’d forgotten to share with the class. Ever since he’d been critical, snappy, and uncompromising. Peter had endured constant prods as reminders to fix his posture, he hadn’t retaliated when Tim made him repeat his words slowly, minimising his Queen’s accent. Peter hadn’t let his temper snap at the condescending looks that were constantly sent his way. Jason had stood by, watching the pot boil over without knowing how to divert the catastrophe.

If he called Tim out on his behaviour, he’d go off on his own. He’d take the criticism too personally, take it as a sign that whatever the hell he was up to, they weren’t on board with it.

If he didn’t call it out, then Tim would keep charging on ahead. Peter had reached his limit and Jason couldn’t blame him. He would have snapped a lot sooner.

The problem with Tim entering villain mode was that he didn’t monologue. It had been worse since Bruce’s disaperance in the time stream, only revealing what he’d been up to once he published it in his reports. Even then, they were brief.

“He’s never even met these people! I have! They already know what I look and talk like…”

“Have you gone to many of these sorts of things with Stark before?” Jason asked

“Not ‘many’ but I’ve been to like charity events and stuff, and I’ve met almost everyone before. Half of them have sent me job offers!”

Bruce had tried to ease them all into social events with charity galas, where the patrons were usually kinder towards those who didn’t know the rules. Once it was clear that you wouldn’t be attempting to outbid them for whatever art/yacht/lunch was being presented at auction, they could relax around you. There was the initial interest towards anyone new that was seen around Bruce Wayne, people keen to work out exactly what their relationship to him was.

Jason’s first charity event had been a disaster, where everyone had assumed that he was just the latest in Bruce Wayne’s schemes to clean up the alley. They had talked over his head like he didn’t exist and in less than an hour almost everyone had alcohol on their breath. He’d picked a packet of cigarettes and a lighter out of the cloakroom and hidden in the garden until Bruce found him to go home.

Tim wouldn’t see ‘charity events and stuff’ as the right sort of preparation for corporate brown-nosing.

“Don’t tell Tim that, or he’ll be creating some sort of weird latex mask to steal your identity.”

Peter opened his mouth as though to retort, then closed it again. Jason sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“There are two main ways to handle Tim when he goes off in one of his plan modes. The easiest route is to suck up whatever annoying shit he gets you to do and roll your eyes when he gives you grief about not reading his mind. He doesn’t really do things unless there’s a reason so you just kinda have to trust he’ll tell you eventually. Or you can kick up a fuss, and he’ll just do whatever he wanted you to do himself.” Jason met Peter’s eyes “That option usually involves a lot of yelling.”

“Can I guess which option you normally choose?” Peter asked, and Jason grinned

“I don’t need his plans, my plans are great.”

“I have good plans as well! He never even asked…”

“That is because, my friend, he’s decided that you are Robin.” Jason counted it off on his fingers “Bright costume, quipps, backflips, starry-eyed and youthful…”

“I’m not a sidekick! Especially not his!”

“Nothing wrong with a sidekick.” Jason shrugged “But Tim always saw it as more of a partnership. He’s got some sort of plan he’s trying to prepare you for, and he’s planning to send you in alone. For him, that is kinda a big deal.”

Compared to how Tim still was with Jason. Flinches. Coded notebooks. Closing laptop tabs when he saw Jason’s gaze drift to what he was doing.

“He’s only like a year older than me, why does he get to decide that he’s in charge?”

“That’s what he does. When he’s determined, not even Batman can get him to give up. It’s a good thing you’re on the same side.”

Peter slouched over, his face resting on his palm

“So I just have to let him keep being a jerk until the expo is over?”

“No, definitely not. He’s being a dick and someone needs to stop him. That’s why you need to counter with an alternative plan. Right now Tim’s plan is like…’ Make People think Peter is into Rich Person Bullshit. You need to present your evidence for ‘Peter knows what the fuck he’s doing.’ This is your world and your identity, don’t let him take charge of it.”

—

Happy hadn’t been very ‘happy’ when it became clear that Tim had made his own way back to the apartment. His tracker had gone dead sometime after he separated from the main group, and pinged back to life a few hours later when he was sitting at the Parker’s dining room table, writing out conversation cards to coordinate with the different expo guests. He’d borrowed a pair of earphones from May, and didn’t look up when the rest of the group came home. Happy was extra unimpressed to see that somehow, Tim had booked picking up Peter’s suit the next morning to his work calendar, he might have refused if May hadn’t defused the situation. The rest of the store bags were piled on the couch.

Jason and Peter vanished into the bedroom with a laptop. May heated up leftover lasagne for dinner. Tim kept writing even as his hand cramped. He debated going through the expo staff list to see if there was anyone who he could convincingly replace.

He pretended not to notice Jason sitting next to him, until the earphone was yanked out of his ear.

“Hey.” He snapped, reaching for it. Jason gestured to Peter, who was setting up his laptop for a PowerPoint presentation. Tim’s heart plummeted as the recognition set in. “Oh you did not…”

‘The Amazing Spider-Plan: Spinning a Web of Lies’ Screamed up at him from the screen, a gif of a spider spinning a web in the corner.

Tim looked at Jason in betrayal. The PowerPoint was trying to quip…

“Normal presentation rules apply. You gotta save all questions and arguments until after he’s finished.” Jason shrugged, settling down as Peter clicked on the next slide, showing a picture of himself with Tony Stark holding a certificate for the internship.

The early slides were mostly information Tim was already aware of and had been analysing himself. What the expo was, Peter’s relationship with Stark…

When they started to get to the more technical side of what the exhibitions contained, it started to get more complicated. Peter had much understanding about how the things on display worked, the selection process, and the rejected proposals. The insight into the personalities and work history of the scientists involved seemed to be mostly paraphrased comments from Tony with remarks such as ‘Good ideas, no follow through’ Or ‘jumps around more than a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader’.

Tim leaned forward, his fingers steepled, when an almost familiar face popped up on the screen. Reddish brown hair and perfect teeth, laughing loudly with his arm around Peter who, while looking a little overwhelmed, was smiling.

The title read ‘Harry Osborne’

“Tony has confirmed that Harry has his own invitation to the expo, so it’s not up to Norman whether he comes along.” Peter said “He’s still officially on the payroll there, and he’s still pretty mad at his dad.”

“And people will be approaching Harry to talk about the recent issues with Oscorp and the power outages…”

“Harry can legally drink at these things now, so there won’t be any stopping him. He’ll be desperate to make a good impression with the other companies to try and get some new job offers.”

“Will other people want to talk about their tech with him though?”

“They will if he’s sharing Oscorp secrets.”

There was a chance, however small, that Harry Osborne might know something about why Jason had been brought here. There was no way he’d missed the disturbance outside his father’s company, he must have asked about it.

Tim had been worried about Peter, who would no doubt be the least interesting person at an event with limited time to mingle. Peter was Stark’s intern, but he was also 16 and had been blipped the last five years. Since most of his work was related to Spider-Man and the Avengers, it wasn’t public knowledge and therefore off limits. Some people might have talked to him to be friendly and to make a good impression with Stark, perhaps hoping for insight into what he was doing outside Oscorp the other day. No one would be pitching themselves to Peter Parker though.

Harry Osborne meanwhile…That was a recognisable name, and linked to current scandal.

They could work with this.