Chapter Text
Racing through the rooftops of Gotham City at night was much easier said than done. Tim discovered this the hard way as we clutched his hyperventilating chest after a near fall. It had been nice to think he could be a vigilante for a moment, but maybe his plan had several flaws.
For starters, he realized there was just no easy way to keep up with the Dynamic Duo. They did have a good assortment of grapple hooks and thingamajigs stashed in their belts. There was also the fact that Tim was not trained in whatever special skills Batman and Robin had acquired, no matter how much the kid enjoyed skating and pretending to be a Ninja Warrior contestant. His parkour levels were at most on par with some of the teens he saw at the park.
But he knew he’d get better with some practice. Eventually.
As Tim’s breathing went back to normal and his legs stopped shaking from his haphazard jump, he inspected his dad’s old camera to see if it had survived the slip. He didn’t want to think about the consequences if his dad found out he had broken it. Not that his parents knew where he was or what he was doing, which would probably lead to worse consequences if they found out.
The lens was intact. All the small knobs and levers looked fine. There was a small scratch close to the viewfinder, but he hoped his dad wouldn’t notice.
With one last sigh of relief, he turned to look at the city’s skyline. It was so beautiful at this time of night, but not something he could often appreciate. Not when there were risks at every turn, especially while he was looking for some indication of Batman’s and Robin’s presence in the area. The vigilantes had been more elusive than usual, resulting in most pictures being out of focus. With such big blurs, it almost felt like chasing ghosts. Tim began to wonder if that was why so many kids in Gotham had theorized that the vigilantes were just a myth; urban legends to scare small-time crooks.
The rush of adrenaline was beginning to fade, giving way to the exhaustion he felt after running across rooftops for hours. Tim walked behind a small storage unit on the rooftop he had nearly fallen from, plopped down on the floor, and decided a break was long overdue. The hiding spot had a good view of the rooftop access door without compromising his location. He would just have to make sure to stick to the shadows if people in the building decided to take a cigarette break or talk on the phone on the rooftop.
Maybe sneaking out was not the best idea, but he was already too invested in his mission to get proof of who Batman and Robin really were. After all, he already had a working theory and just needed to see if it panned out.
His theories began with a simple observation that sent a spark of recognition when he saw footage of Robin’s earlier days. The video was not in the best quality, but he could still recognize a very familiar somersault. One he had seen before during a circus act; it was believed to be unique to the family who performed it. That single dot connected to another, and another, and another, until he felt he had enough evidence to confirm that Robin was none other than Dick Grayson.
‘Was’ being the operative word in that conclusion.
Tim had the theory that the first Robin had changed not so long ago his name to Nightwing, leading Batman to pick a new Robin (and it couldn’t be just a coincidence that Bruce Wayne had also just adopted a new kid named Jason Todd, right?)
What would he do with his theories once he found enough evidence to confirm their identities? Nothing.
The point of this wasn't to be a jerk and unmask them to the world. He didn’t want to put the city’s protectors or their loved ones at risk. But there was something so satisfying about knowing he was right; about being able to keep a secret this big; about knowing he could handle himself in these outings.
He had no delusions of becoming a vigilante or even walking to Batman (or Bruce Wayne) to spill all the beans. But there was something so powerful about being able to achieve all that and keep it under wraps. The problem with being a kid was that sometimes people underestimated anyone younger than them and often miscalculated their skills and knowledge.
Maybe that was why Robin was so effective. Maybe that’s why no one expected a kid to—
“What are you doing here?” a voice suddenly asked, making Tim jump in surprise with a small yelp.
Tim’s heart was beating embarrassingly fast. He looked to his left and met the concerned look of a stranger. The roof was barely lit by the lights from neighboring buildings, the moonlight barely touching it. The darkness made only some features discernible enough to realize this random dude was an older teen, maybe even a young adult, with black hair and blue eyes. He wore baggy clothes, a backpack, and an air of tiredness about him.
But above any of the observations Tim could make about this stranger, one thing stood out the most: the door to the rooftop was still closed.
Tim stood up as fast as he could, opting for a more defensive stance. “Me? What are you doing here?”
The strange guy rolled his eyes and leaned against the parapet surrounding the rooftop, the one that Tim had almost failed to hold on to minutes earlier. “It’s not a safe place for a kid.”
It felt like a direct jab and Tim had to wonder how long this guy had been watching him.
Tim felt his nerves on edge and tried to avoid that line of thought, crossing his arms to look more nonchalant than he felt. “Well, what if I live here, huh?”
The guy raised an unimpressed eyebrow, gesturing with one hand at the empty rooftop. “This place is abandoned. No one’s supposed to be here.”
Tim had not thought that one through.
His shoulders sagged when he looked over the parapet. The wall across the alley was completely dark, no lights reflecting on it from the building where they stood, adding credibility to the guy’s statement. That only raised the warning levels about his current situation, locked in a deserted place with some stranger who could be some goon in hiding for all Tim knew.
“I, uh—okay, busted!” Tim conceded with a nervous laugh. “I just wanted to get some fresh air. And now that I did, I should probably leave you to whatever you were up to.”
He hurried to pick up his belongings, not wanting to bring too much attention to the camera around his neck as he closed his hoodie, placing his hands in his pockets to make sure their contents were still there. Tim might have looked away for just a second when he realized the guy was no longer there. A shiver went down his spine, his flight response blaring loudly in his head.
The moment was gone when he noticed the guy standing by the emergency ladder on the side of the building. When had he gotten there? And how come Tim hadn’t heard him move?
The guy gestured with his head towards the ladder. “C’mon, I’ll help you get down from here.”
Tim didn’t dare to move, but his fingers held the contents of his pockets tighter. “I can handle myself just fine.”
Strange Stealthy Guy frowned as he stared at something below. “Look, if you’re jumping across rooftops, there’s no guarantee Batman will be able to catch you. And if you stay here too long, you might end up on the radar of the wrong kind of folks, considering there’s a, uh, not-so-friendly gang operating nearby.”
He had a point. Several reasonable points.
But while the words sounded sincere, Tim didn’t think trusting a stranger was any less risky. For all he knew, the guy could be trying to catch him off guard to hurt him. The mere thought made him clutch closer the taser in his hoodie.
Tim looked away, mentally making a list of other ways he could escape the building that didn’t involve additional danger, such as following some random guy. His options were limited, though. He could try fighting him…
The guy made a placating hand gesture without moving from his spot. “Look, kid, I can practically see the gears in your head moving. And I’ve seen that look before making some stupid decision.” The guy sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. “Would it be better if I keep a wider distance so you can go home or at least somewhere safe?”
Tim didn’t respond but considered it in silence. The guy took that as a cue to continue.
“I can give you my name? You can share it with your parents, so they know who’s walking you home. Sounds good?”
Something about that sent a pang of pain in his heart. His parents didn’t know where he was. In fact, his parents didn’t know what Tim had been up to so far in the week. At all. Unless the staff hired to look after him gave them some kind of daily report, which he highly doubted. The couple had been on a business trip that got extended another week (“or two!” the postcard had read. But, hey, at least Tim now had a collection of postcards from different parts of the world).
If he sent them the message, he would be in so much trouble when they returned. What little liberty he had won would be over.
But this guy didn’t have to know that.
Tim pulled out his phone and started recording without a warning. “What’s your name?” he asked to give the guy something else to focus on.
The guy recovered from the impromptu recording quickly and put up a peace sign with his left hand. “Uh, hi, I’m Danny. I'm a college student who just wants to help this kid get somewhere safe.” Danny put his hand down and tilted his head. “Can we now leave the dangerous building with broken columns?”
Tim paled and hit stop on the recording. “The what?” he squeaked.
Danny shook his head. “The building's structure is damaged. There’s police tape below and everything. How did you get here, rooftop parkour?”
Whatever this guy was up to, Tim didn’t appreciate being analyzed like a bug. He turned to look at his phone to mitigate the discomfort. “I don’t have to tell you anything.”
As Danny mumbled some reply about the kid’s sass, Tim began to type something in the app he configured precisely for a situation like this. The app allowed him to configure some safety measures, like scheduling messages to assigned contacts. He programmed the recent video to automatically send to a number he had worked hard to obtain (read: hack) once he started with his Bat-theories. Someone he knew who could actually help him: Dick Grayson. Whether the guy had been Robin or Nightwing or just some billionaire’s adopted son, he was Tim’s best bet at the moment.
After he scheduled the message, Tim pocketed his phone and glared at Danny. “Okay, you win. You can guide me to the nearest public location, and I can get a ride from there.”
Danny did not look completely convinced but nodded. “Awesome. There’s a nearby public library that closes late, I can drop you off there.”
Without any more preamble, Danny moved towards the ladder and started climbing down. He was true to his word and gave Tim enough distance to feel safe. Which didn’t mean much when the ladder kept creaking in ominous ways on their way down.
Once he landed safely on the ground, or as safe as he could be in some darkened alley in Gotham, Tim found that Danny was nowhere to be seen. Which was not creepy at all. The alley was entirely deserted, which was probably due to the dozens of warning signs surrounding the damaged building.
“Over here,” the guy’s voice called out from the alley’s mouth, standing on the well-lit street and respecting the distance he said he would keep from Tim.
Tim wasted no time, running as fast as he could towards the stranger.
They walked a couple of streets in complete silence, Danny staying a couple of feet ahead of Tim and turning ever so often to make sure Tim was alright. The guy had offered to walk behind him, but Tim reasoned that this would keep the stranger entirely visible in case he tried something funny.
The streets were not too busy on this side of the city, with most businesses already closed, leaving Tim with fewer options of places to look for cover if he needed it. He considered looking for a cab or some way out, but he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be safer that way. At least this guy was keeping his word so far.
Despite being so odd, Danny seemed like an easygoing guy, not as high-strung as most Gothamites. From his vantage point, Tim noticed the collection of pins on Danny’s backpack, which included a Ghostbusters logo, a flag with blue, white, and pink that Tim knew he had seen before, and a couple more with space themes. The one that caught his attention, though, was the one with the Batman symbol, reminding Tim of his mission and the reason why they ended up in this situation.
“You never told me what you were doing back there,” Tim asked after a few minutes, the question nagging at him as he recalled the closed rooftop access or the lack of sound during Danny’s arrival.
Danny shrugged. “I was preparing to patrol as Batman for the night.”
That actually earned a snort from Tim. “Yeah, right. I think you’d need a bit more muscle to pack the same kind of punches.”
Danny turned and looked offended (but not really). “I’ll have you know that I pack the meanest left hook.”
Tim shook his head. “If you say so, Bat-Dan.”
As Danny barked a laugh, Tim didn’t miss how the question had been entirely dodged, making Tim wonder if he could really trust anything this guy said, no matter how funny he seemed to be.
A couple of blocks later, reasonably closer to the library Tim knew was in the area, there was a sudden click behind Tim as something poked his back. He froze in place, all color drained from his face as he realized it was probably a gun.
“Don’t you dare move, brat,” a scruffy voice spoke closer to his ear.
Tim watched as Danny turned back with fire in his eyes. “Leave the kid alone,” came Danny’s deeper voice. Something in it made Tim’s hair stand on end.
The guy threatening Tim decided at that moment that holding his prey in a chokehold would be a better idea. Maybe the guy was also scared, for all Tim could tell. He didn’t seem too tall or bulky, not that Danny was any better.
“Hand over the goods and I won’t hurt the kid,” the thug barked back, motioning both Tim and Danny to move into the darker alley he had emerged from.
Danny’s eyes seemed to assess the attacker. He held his hands up in front of him and moved slowly towards the alley as instructed. The scene felt wrong, but Tim couldn’t put into words why. Maybe something deep inside of him hoped Danny would find a way to beat this guy. Maybe something hoped this hadn’t been a trap right from the start.
Before Tim could kick himself for being so stupid in his Bat-stalking shenanigans, the world turned upside down.
Things happened much faster than Tim could keep up with. He noticed the moment Danny’s eyes changed from angry threat to feral glee before the darkness grew, almost engulfing them. The lights coming outside of the alley flickered and made the shadows look more threatening in the process. He suddenly heard a yelp of surprise from the criminal at the same time that a gunshot rang in the alley.
Tim paled. There had been a sudden warmth on his back quickly followed by a freezing sensation. He realized in horror the temperature had dropped. He was probably going into shock. Did he really get shot?
Tim fell on his knees, horrified about the whole situation. He continued to hear the punches from a fight ensuing behind him, every sound far away, almost drowned out by his rising panic. His trembling fingers touched every inch of his torso to check where he got shot… but he found nothing. There was no pain, no trace of blood, no burn… nothing. It didn’t make sense.
The lights stopped flickering and Tim turned around to see Danny delivering the final punch to the crook’s jaw, rendering the criminal unconscious. When had Danny moved at all?
Danny smirked as he saw Tim’s shocked expression. “I told you I had a mean left hook.”
Tim’s mind tried to process what the hell had just happened. The sudden fight, the gun, the oddities surrounding the guy who was helping him get somewhere safe… He didn’t feel cold anymore.
“Hey," a new voice called from behind Tim. The shaking boy turned around to find Robin perched by the fire escape on the building now in front of him. The young vigilante had an R-shaped weapon (What was it called? Birdarang?) prepared in his hand as he stared quizzically at the scene below. “I heard a gunshot. Are you alright?”
Tim looked down, at the lack of wounds or blood... “I’m… I’m fine,” he finally said.
Tim looked over his shoulder to look at Danny, thinking he might be able to explain better whatever had just happened. But Danny was no longer there.
He frantically turned in every direction, eyes scanning every inch of that alley, trying to see where the guy had just gone to. “Danny?” Tim asked.
Robin jumped easily down the fire escape and pulled out some zip ties from a pouch, which he promptly used to tie the unconscious thug on the floor. “Is that this guy’s name? Huh, we don’t usually get a thug’s name while they’re trying to rob someone.” This Robin did look younger than the one Tim remembered somersaulting.
Tim shook his head. “No, uh… Danny’s the one who saved me. He was here when you showed up.”
Robin looked at Tim, then glanced at their surroundings. “What are you talking about? There’s no one else here.”
That couldn’t be right. Danny was just talking to him when Robin arrived. So, either Robin was lying, or Danny was—Danny was—
What the hell was Danny?
He had to be real, that was for sure. There was no way Tim could’ve handled the mugger on his own, and Robin hadn’t been the one to help him. Did Danny hide to stay away from Robin?
Tim looked at the gun on the floor. The gun had fired against him, but yet it hadn’t hurt him in any way.
“I guess I just saw a ghost,” Tim muttered.
Whatever Danny was, one thing that was clear: Tim had a new mystery to solve. Maybe the Bats’ identity could wait.