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Chapter Text

Jason Todd swung close to the roof tops with his grappling hook, scouring the ground for signs of trouble. It was his first patrol without Batman and everything had been almost too quiet. He was half expecting something terrible to happen.

Bruce was occupied hosting the Martha Wayne Fundraiser but assured Jason that he’d stay on the comm the whole time. He made him promise, no rogues, no guns or he wouldn’t be allowed to patrol by himself again.

He’d stopped two purse snatches, directed a homeless kid to a shelter that wouldn’t notify CPS and called the ambulance on a man who’d overdosed on the street. It was almost time to go back but Jason felt like there was still something he needed to do.

In the distance there was the sounds of an explosion and Jason perked up. That sounded promising. He swung towards the noise scanning for signs of fire and destruction. He found a warehouse that was one of Scarecrow's favourite. Hooking his gas mask on, Jason climbed down a fire escape onto the ground and peered through a gap in the corrugated iron.

Inside he could just make out what seemed to be a bunch of unmarked crates. A few of them were cracked open and the air was heavy with an unidentifiable powder. He crept closer.

“Don’t even think about it,” Batman’s voice growled through his comm.

“Are you watching me?” Jason peered around for security cameras.

“I said no rogues.”

“There’s no one even here,” Jason tried to protest. Batman grunted his most authoritative grunt. He imagined Bruce dressed in a full tuxedo and a Batman cowl. Jason sighed. Trust Bruce to ruin his fun.

He made a mental note of which building he was in and was just about to swing away when he heard a faint whimpering. It was coming from the shadows near the base of the warehouse. He took a step forward and when Bruce didn’t stop him took another.

The whimpering was high pitched and barely audible over Gotham's constant sirens and shouts. It sounded like a kid doing everything he could to cry silently. Jason hesitated.

It could be a trap.

There was another pained whimper. Jason crouched close to the ground, his hands raised.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as gently as he could. Carefully signposting his every move, he took two more steps and peered at a tiny lump in the darkness where the sounds seemed to be coming from. It wasn’t a kid at all.

It was a dog or more accurately a puppy. Its fur was surprisingly clean for an alley dog but it didn’t have a collar. The thing was so small. He could see each of its ribs beneath damp black hair that was just long enough to slightly curl at the end.

Jason extended a hand forward to touch its fur and his fingers came back red. At Jason’s touch, it looked up to reveal intelligent blue eyes. They were full of pain but there was no fear. He might have even described the expression as awe if it wasn’t coming from a dog.

Jason unfastened his cape and wrapped it round the little thing. It gave a weak whine as it was jostled but did not try and squirm away.

“It’s alright,” Jason spoke softly, “you’ll be alright.” The dog snuggled closer into him as if trying to soak up his body heat. How long had the dog been out here? It was freezing.

Jason tried to think. Should he take it to Leslie? Or a vet? Would one even be open at this hour? There certainly weren't any in Crime Alley where no one had the money to feed themselves let alone a pet.

Leslie was closest. Jason shimmied up a fire escape onto the roof, arms tight around the dog. It let out a pitiful little sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Jason leapt onto the next roof top, trying to move fast without hurting the little thing even more. He tried not to look at the red stains seeking through his cape.

“Everything ok Robin?” Batman’s voice spoke once more through the coms.

“Everything ok,” Jason confirmed, “I’ll be home soon.” He jumped lightly down onto the street and knocked on a familiar door that read Thompkin’s Free Clinic. Leslie opened the door at once dressed in her usual white apron as if she’d been expecting him.

“What’s this?” She asked, hurrying Jason inside and closing the door.

“I found him out by the docks.” He tried to hand the bundle over to Leslie but the movement caused the little pup to whine and press closer to Jason. Leslie raised an eyebrow at the tiny black nose and pointy ears which was all she could see peeking out from Robins cape.

“He’s injured. I couldn’t just leave him there.”

“Put him on the bed,” Leslie waved a hand at the crisp white bedsheets behind her and pulled on gloves. “You really should take him to a vet but I suppose I can take a look.” Jason unwrapped the puppy but when he tried to put it down, it started crying out again. He looked desperately up at Leslie.

“I’m afraid I can’t inspect his injuries while you hold him.”

The noise the puppy made when Jason placed him gently on the bed made his heart break a little. He hurried to stroke the dogs fur, trying to calm it down.

Even though the puppy seemed to follow Jason’s hand, it flinched away when Leslie came close. She smiled sadly at it.

“Just stay still,” she said, “I’ll make this quick.” As if the dog understood her, it fell still though its eyes remained wary, following her every movement. Leslie felt its head where most of the blood was coming from and down its back. When she reached its back legs, the dog let out a pained gasp then immediately curled away from Leslie.

“It’s right back leg is broken. I think the left one's only sprained but you’d need a vet to tell for sure. The cut on the head has bled a lot but it’s not actually that deep. I’ll sanitise it but it won’t need stitches.” Jason sighed in relief.

“I’ll make a quick splint for the leg but I recommend you take him to the vet in the morning. You’ll need to see if he’s up to date on shots as well. Who knows what’s lurking around the streets here.”

“Is there any way we can find its or his owner? Do you think he has one?”

“Definitely a he. You might ask around but there’s no collar or ID chip. There are a few nicer pounds up at…”

“No!” Jason cried at the same time, the pup whimpered. “I’ll take him.”

Leslie huffed in amusement. “I’m guessing you haven’t told Batman about this.”

“I don’t need his permission,” Jason scowled, “he stole me off the streets. I don’t see why I can’t do the same for this little guy.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything different.” Jason watched Leslie clean the dogs head wound and wrap his leg. He kept stroking the puppies fur, murmuring encouragement.

“That’s all done,” Leslie said. Jason immediately swooped the little pup into his arms, careful not to jostle his back legs. The dog sighed and closed his eyes.

“Thanks Leslie.” He stifled a yawn with the back of his glove.

“Better get off to bed.” Jason nodded reaching for his phone to message Alfred in the Batmobile. He wondered about all the things he’d need for his new friend. There were blankets and toys, something loud and obnoxious to annoy Bruce. He’d have to start with a name.

“What do you think of Robin?” He said petting the little dogs back. It let out a large yawn, revealing a pink tongue and little white teeth. Jason smiled. “Robin it is.”

Chapter Text

Tim woke up feeling warmer than he had been in a long time. His parents didn’t like him turning on the heaters at Drake manor, not when it was just him living there. He was on something soft, far softer than the stiff blankets at home.

He opened his eyes. There was nothing familiar about his surroundings. Instead of the white walls and minimalist furniture his parents preferred, he was in a bedroom that was all wood furnishing with overflowing bookcases, a desk strewn with school supplies and a school bag propped against an open wardrobe that had the most eclectic mix of suits and casual wear. It was far neater than Tim’s room but clearly lived in.

Tim tried to sit up and a stabbing feeling jolted down to his legs. He couldn’t suppress a pained yip, a distinctly non-human sound. Tim turned his attention from the room to his own hands except they weren’t hands at all, they were paws. Memories from last night flooded back to him.

***

It had been a quiet night. Tim had been following Batman and Robin for just over a year now. He knew which roof tops provided the best angles and had developed his own sort of patrol pattern between them. He stashed his bike behind a dumpster and clambered up an apartment building that stood just a little higher than the buildings around it, camera swinging around his neck.

He had two granola bars that he snacked on while waiting for either Batman or Robin to appear. The night was an unusually frosty one given that winter was still two months away. Perhaps no one was coming tonight.
It was the night of the annual Martha Wayne Fundraiser. Mr Wayne probably wouldn’t want to miss that.

Tim put the lens cap back on his camera. He had gotten used to jumping between roof tops and made his way down to the docks. If he couldn’t get Batman, at least he could get some pictures for the Gotham police force. The intel he’d collected said a new Scarecrow drug shipment would be coming in soon. He positioned himself on the roof of one of Scarecrow's most frequently used warehouses.

He wished he’d brought something to do. Tonight was unusually quiet for Gotham. As if in answer to his prayers, it was at that moment that two trucks pulled out from a side street and towards the warehouse. Tim snapped their license plates and tried to get the drivers faces but it was too dark even for his quality night vision lenses. They stopped in front of the warehouse and five heavily muscled guys clambered out. Tim recognised a few of them as Scarecrow goons.

He moved closer to the edge of the roof top. The men below were handling wooden crates, lugging them into the warehouse with not as much care as Tim would take when dealing with likely highly poisonous substances. The crates looked cheap, far from Scarecrows usual standard. Perhaps Batman’s latest raid on street drugs had been more effective than Tim thought. He imagined Scarecrow in a waiters outfit trying to make some extra cash.

He took a few more pictures. One of the goons seemed to be having an argument with another. There were the sounds of yelling and a few fists were thrown. Tim looked around excitedly for any red, green or yellow but saw nothing. It looked like one of the men was doing the job for Robin. Maybe he’d finally grown a conscience. Or he’d finally realised the other guy was sleeping with his wife.

The fight progressed inside the warehouse and Tim shuffled over to a hole in the roof for a better angle. It was growing more heated and none of the other goons seemed eager to stop it. This is what happens when you hire cheap staff.

A fist connected squarely with the larger of the two goons and he collapsed into the pile of crates. It was almost beautiful how quickly the whole thing came crashing down, exploding in a mushroom cloud of white powder.

Tim hurriedly backed away from the hole but it was too late. Powder from the crates had gone everywhere. Tim coughed, reaching for his gas mask. He felt suddenly light headed. Below him there was the sounds of anguished shouts and running footsteps. He stumbled, clutching at his camera. Everything around him seemed to be growing bigger. Pain spread through his body and Tim took one more step back only to meet air. With a scream that quickly turned into a high pitched whimper, he fell off the roof and hurtled down towards the ground. He closed his eyes bracing for impact.

Tim woke again in more pain than he’d ever been in. Everything ached. Someone had touched his head. He looked up to see a familiar white domino mask. Tim whimpered. He didn’t want to meet Robin like this, not lying uselessly on the ground. He should be doing something really cool, beating up some bad guy or taking down the Joker single handedly.

Robin was talking softly to him. It was only as he wrapped his cloak around Tim that he realised something was horribly wrong. In other situations he’d be ecstatic to be so close to Robin but now he noticed that where his legs had once been there were paws. Everything smelt ten times stronger and Robins outfit looked more green than red. The colours were dull and Tim may be small but he had never been this small. What on earth had been in that powder?

***

Tim looked back at his surroundings in horror. This wasn’t just any bedroom. It was Jason Todd’s bedroom. If he wasn’t somehow now a dog, he would have flushed in embarrassment. He’s been so clingy last night with Robin. It must have been really annoying. He knew how much adults hated whining and Jason was fifteen which was practically an adult.

Another thought struck him.

That doctor lady had been talking about a vet and the pound. Did Jason actually think he was a dog? That would explain why he’d been so nice and why he’d revealed his identity by taking him back here. Everyone liked dogs. Maybe his parents would like him more like this? Tim chuffed a bitter laugh. His parents hated mess. If they found him like this they’d probably chuck him out.

Was this permanent? Thank goodness he’d thought to set up an automatic system that marked him present at school or his parents would definitely notice something was up. As it was, they wouldn’t be back for another month and Mrs Mac tended to leave groceries while he was at school. He just hoped he’d transform back by then.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of the bedroom door opening. In stepped Jason Todd in Wonder Women pyjamas. He smiled when he saw Tim was awake and stroked his ears. It might have been mortifying to be pet like a dog but it just felt so good. Tim could only press his head closer into Jason’s hand.

“Does that feel good?” Jason laughed and Tim realised his tail had started wagging as if it had a life of its own. The movements caused his back legs to be jostled and he bit his tongue to stop any noise from escaping him. Jason seemed to notice anyway.

“I’ll take you to the vet this morning and we can get you some proper pain medication.”

Jason scooped Tim up into his arms and he all but melted. He tried to keep his eyes open as Jason carried him out of the bedroom, trying to memorise everything he saw. Every wall in Wayne Manor seemed to be covered in family photographs and drawings. His own camera was probably smashed to bits. He’d have to reorganise his budget to save up for a new one. Dogs didn’t eat as much as children though so he could probably use the money he’d put aside for food.

Jason stopped walking once they’d reached a large open kitchen area with a dining room table. A man that Tim vaguely recognised as the family butler Mr Pennyworth was cooking what smelled like eggs and bacon on the stove top.

“Good morning Master Jason.”

“Morning Alfie,” Jason grabbed two pieces of toast from a platter and held it out so Mr Pennyworth could laden out a healthy serving of eggs and bacon onto it.

“Anything for your little guest?” Tim’s nose poked hopefully out toward the bacon. He hadn’t had a warm breakfast in so long. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had anything except coffee for breakfast.

Jason said something to Mr Pennyworth but Tim didn’t catch it. His breaths had sped up a little. He’d mostly tried to not think about the whole dog thing but…dogs couldn’t have coffee. He could live without chocolate but coffee. This was a nightmare.

Two fingers resumed stroking his ears and Tim settled a little. Surely the drug was just temporary or else Batman would figure out he’s human and make a cure.

Speaking of Batman…there was another set of footsteps coming closer and Tim saw none other than Bruce Wayne step into the kitchen already dressed in a crisp suit though his hair was a little messed up.

They both froze staring at each other.

“Morning Jay,” Mr Wayne spoke slowly, “who’s this?”

Jason carried his plate over to the table, jaw set stubbornly. “I found him last night. His name is Robin.”

“So we’re keeping him?” Mr Wayne accepted a cup of coffee from Mr Pennyworth and sat down opposite Jason. Tim shrunk into Jason’s arms. Of course Batman wouldn’t want him.

“Yes,” Jason stabbed a fork into his eggs. “You kidnapped me. I don’t see why I can’t kidnap someone else.” Mr Wayne pinched the bridge of his nose.

“At least it’s not another child.” Tim made a promise right then never to tell Batman the truth, not if he could help it.

“You could afford one.” Jason picked a piece of bacon off his plate and held it close to Tim’s mouth. It was perfectly salty and crispy. He looked up at Jason hopefully. Another piece of bacon was quickly provided.

“We can pick up supplies today.” Mr Wayne was handed a plate of his own eggs and bacon. “Oh and Dicks coming over this afternoon. He’s going to stay for the weekend.”

“I advice that you call Master Dick and inform him of the new guest before he arrives,” Mr Pennyworth said in his posh British accent, placing a glass of orange juice down in front of Jason and a small saucer of water.

“Yes I will,” Mr Wayne turned to Jason. “And you’re set on the name Robin?”

“Look at him B,” Jason fed another piece of bacon to Tim, “he’s just like a baby bird.” Tim narrowed his eyes at the comparison. He wasn’t a baby. He was nearly ten and that was double digits.

Mr Wayne’s lips curled into a small smile at the sight. “Alright. But he’s not allowed on the couch.”

“Thanks dad.” Jason said softly. Mr Wayne stood up from his mostly eaten breakfast and ruffled Jason’s hair.

“Go get dressed. The closest vet opens at nine.” Jason fed Tim the last few pieces of bacon as he stood. He placed a gentle kiss on to the top of Tim’s head.

“And don’t forget to give him a bath,” Mr Wayne added.

“Will do,” Jason called back happily making his way back to the bedroom. Tim stayed still in his arms. He had never been given so much affection before, especially not anything as sweet as a kiss on his forehead. Bruce had practically said it as ok for Jason to keep him and this house was so much warmer and homelier than what he’d left behind.

Maybe he could stay like this just for a little while longer. It wasn’t like anyone would notice that he’s gone.

Chapter Text

Bruce was tired. He’d spent all of last night one second away from donning the cowl and sprinting off to join Jason. It was hard to maintain his Brucie persona when all he could think about was Robin alone in the city. He never should have agreed to Jason’s insistance that “I’ll be fine. Go do your rich man thing.”

It was a relief to see him sitting at the breakfast table without so much as a bruise on him. What was a little more unexpected was the tiny ball of fluff wrapped in his arms. The dog was tiny with bright, ice blue eyes. Its head wasn’t even as big as his fist. Bruce might have cooed if he didn’t have a reputation to maintain.

They were now sat in a mostly empty vet waiting room. Jason was wearing a Superman T-shirt with the words “No. 1 hero” on it that he had bought himself and he was stroking the puppy's back. The little guy was wrestling to keep his eyes open but they kept closing at Jason’s touch.

Bruce picked up his phone and scrolled to Dick’s number. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hey Dick…”

“No.” Dick interrupted.

“I haven’t said anything.”

“No I recognise that voice. You got another one didn’t you?”

“Uh…”

“Does it have black hair and blue eyes?” Bruce looked down at the puppy in Jason’s lap.

“Well…”

“B, you have a problem.”

“In my defence it wasn’t me this time. Jason was the one who found him.”

“I’ll be right over.” Dick hung up. Bruce stared down at his phone.

A woman with black braids curled up into a bun stepped out into the waiting room.

“Bruce Wayne?”

Bruce and Jason stood up. “That’s us.”

“Alright. Come on in. I’m Maria.” The woman, Maria, led them into a back room with a white table in the centre surrounded by typical medical equipment and pictures of dogs and cats on the wall.

“So who’s the little one,” Maria said. Bruce noticed how the puppy's tail drooped when Jason put him down on the table. He flinched away from Maria’s hand as she inspected the splint on his leg but didn’t make a sound.

“This is Robin. I found him outside last night. He didn’t have a collar.” Jason kept stroking the puppy, staying as close to him as he could.

“He’s underweight,” Maria said after placing him on a pair of scales, “but not dangerously so. Just start with small meals regularly and don’t give him anything too heavy.”

“I took him to our doctor yesterday. She said one of his legs broken.” Jason added.

“That’s right. The other is just sprained. I’ll make a new splint and I expect it will need to stay on for about three weeks. You can come back then to get it checked over.”

“Can you guess the age?” Bruce put a comforting hand around Jason who looked gutted at the puppy who seemed to be trying to make himself as small as possible.

“I’d say about three to four months. Maybe slightly older but it’s hard to tell with how small he is. I can give him all the basic shots for a dog that age. Are you looking to get him desexed?”

At that the dog let out a frightened little yip.

“No,” Jason said quickly. Maria turned to look and Bruce who nodded. The puppy looked traumatised enough.

“Alright, it was only take a second to do the shots and make a new splint. I’ll give you some pain medication.” Maria worked efficiently, not touching the pup more than necessary.

“I can’t say where he was before you but given his behaviour, I doubt it was anywhere good.” She pulled the vaccinations from a fridge in the corner of the room and in two quick motions injected them into the dog. He made a little whine and Jason cradled his head closer to him.

“That’s all done,” Maria said, “this is the pain medication. Twice a day with meals. This should last you a month until your next check up.”

“Thanks Maria,” Bruce gave his best gala smile. Jason took Maria’s words as all the encouragement he needed to scoop little Robin back into his arms.

While Bruce paid, Jason muttered words of comfort to the dog. Bruce wished he had a camera. The two of them were just too adorable together. His smile drooped a little though when he remembered what Maria said. The dog had been found in Crime Alley with broken bones and flinched away from human contact; he hated to imagine what kind of life he’d lived up to this point.

It had taken Jason a long time to grow comfortable with Bruce when he first took him in. There were still things about his time on the streets that he wouldn’t talk about. Maybe with a dog, he’d have someone he could open up to without fear of judgement.

“Come on Jaylad,” Bruce said, pocketing the medication and receipt. “What do you say we go to the pet store and get the guy some treats?” Both Jason and little Robin seemed to perk up at that.

“Sounds good, old man,” Jason said following him out to the car. He focused his attention on Robin. “Just wait little dude." Jason said, "We’re going to spoil you rotten.”

Chapter Text

Dick was driving home as fast as the speed limit allowed. He couldn't believe Bruce had gotten another one. What was he doing, making an army? At least Bruce had told him about this one.

Dick couldn't deny that he was an excited to have another little brother to spoil. Knowing Bruce, the kid probably had some sort of tragic backstory but Dick hoped he liked hugs. He loved Jason but he'd never been the touchy feely sort of brother and Dick needed someone to cuddle.

He manoeuvred the car through the gates at the front of Wayne Manor and up the tree lined driveway. As soon as the car was parked, he jumped out and opened the manor door without bothering to knock. He ran straight into Bruce who was holding three large bags that no doubt contained any number of new clothes and toys for the kid.

“You got here fast.” Bruce dropped the bags and drew Dick into a hug. Usually Dick wouldn’t want to move for the next five minutes when he got one of the rare hugs from his dad but he was a man on a mission.

“Where is he?” Dick looked around expectantly.

“He’s having a bath right now,” Bruce led Dick into the lounge area. Dick collapsed onto the overstuffed leather couch but couldn’t sit still.

“How is everything going? Did you have a good trip down?”

“Fine, fine,” Dick said impatiently, “Bludhaven has been quiet.”

“And the police force?”

“It’s been alright. Some of the other officers are real jerks. They expect me to be just like every other rich kid and get mad when I call them out but I like being able to do some good out of costume.”

“Just don’t work yourself too hard and you know…”

“I can come back here whenever, I know.”

“Master Dick, good to see you,” Alfred walked into the room carrying a plate of sandwiches and some kind of brown food in a bowl. “I’ve made lunch for Master Jason and the new little master.”

“Thanks Alfie,” Dick snatched a sandwich up from the plate. He was an independent adult who could cook his own food but by god did he miss Alfred’s cooking.

“So, how old is the new kid anyway?” He asked Bruce.

“The doctor estimated about three to four months.”

“What!” Dick dropped the sandwich, his mouth hanging open. “You kidnapped a baby!”

“Actually I kidnapped him,” Jason entered from the top of the stairs. There were wet patches all across his jeans and t-shirt and he was carrying a pink towel close to his chest. He plonked down next to Dick careful not to jostle the bundle.

“What did I tell you?” Bruce sighed sternly.

“What he’s not on the couch, he’s on me,” Jason protested. Dick leaned over to examine the towel. Inside he could just make out a tiny black nose and two bright, ice blue eyes looking at him in wonder. It was a puppy, the tiniest puppy he had ever seen.

“Aww,” Dick cooed, instantly reaching out a hand towards it but Jason stopped him.

“Careful he doesn’t like strangers much.” Dick nodded and stretched his hand out much more slowly for the dog to sniff. Instead the little thing practically threw himself into Dick’s arms.

“Ha! I knew I’d be the favourite sibling,” he cradled the puppy in his lap. He noticed the splints around its leg and made sure not to put any pressure on them.

“Traitor,” Jason muttered. The little dog booped Jason apologetically with its nose when he went to pat its head. Dick saw the new red collar around his neck with a golden tag on it.

“You called him Robin?”

“It’s the perfect disguise,” Jason smirked, “if anyone ever hears us talking about Robin we can just say we were talking about the dog.”

“Yeah Robin took down three goons last night and stopped a bank robbery. Who wouldn’t believe that?” Jason cupped Robin’s head in his hands.

“Don’t be so quick to doubt him. You’re very vicious aren’t you.” Robin growled in response, batting his paws at Jason’s face.

“I can see that,” Bruce grunted, “perhaps he should join us on patrol.” Robin perked up at that, his tail wagging excitedly.

“No, no, no,” Dick held Robin closer, “no babies on patrol.”

“Would he need a little puppy mask to make sure he’s not recognised?” Jason snickered. Robin did the closest thing a puppy could do to glaring. “Aww, I’m just kidding. You’re a big dog, a very big, scary dog.” He picked up the bowl of what Dick now realised was dog food and held it close to the puppy. Robin sniffed it cautiously, looking between Bruce, Alfred, Dick and Jason. He slowly took a bite and then seemed to wolf it all down as if he had been starving. Dick considered just how small the dog was and his heart squeezed painfully.

“Well, I brought the complete wrong things for a new puppy brother. I doubt he can play Mario Kart.”

“He can be the referee,” Jason said, jumping off the couch to start up the TV consol.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Bruce said.

“As will I, Master Jason, Master Dick,” Alfred nodded politely. There was a knock on the door outside. “I believe that’s the people here to install a new dog door.”

“Perfect,” Bruce said clapping his hands together. No one missed the way Robin flinched ever so slightly at the sound. Bruce lowered his hands apologetically. He and Alfred left the room so that it was only Dick and Jason. Dick leaned further into the couch cushions. He would the last to admit it, given how much he had pushed Bruce into letting him get his own place in Bludhaven but he had missed this.

He leant over and ruffled Jason’s hair. With an indignant shout, Jason pushed him off, reaching for the control. “Come on, I want to be Daisy.”

“You can pick any character I’m still going to beat you.” Dick smiled. It felt good to just be a kid again.

Chapter Text

Tim must have died and gone to heaven. He couldn’t believe he was lying on Dick Grayson’s lap!

He could do without everyone calling him little all the time. Even as a dog he wasn’t that small. He might be more affronted but he had been dreaming about a hug from Dick Grayson ever since he saw him at the circus so he would let it slide.

It was so weird hearing them call him Robin. Especially when Batman talked about letting Tim go on patrol.

The only thing that somewhat broke the illusion was when Jason offered him a bowl of what he knew to be dog food. He wasn't super keen to try it but his taste buds must have changed when he became a dog. The dog food Mr Pennyworth provided was nowhere near as unpleasant as he had imagined. It tasted like beef jerky.

He watched in fascination as Dick and Jason played Mario Kart. His dad had bought him the latest game console for Christmas but he’d never had the chance to use it with anyone. All the games were still wrapped in their plastic coverings.

His stomach squirmed at the idea of being so close to Dick and Jason. They all thought he was a dog. There was no way they’d be as comfortable with him if they knew the truth.

It was difficult to focus on the guilt though when his stomach was full and he was so warm. His body must have really become that of a puppy because all he wanted to do was sleep which was ridiculous. The sun was only just starting to set. What Tim really needed was his phone. He needed some way of knowing what was happening in the outside world. His parents may not call often but he didn't want to imagine what would happen if he didn't pick up if they ever did. It was good that he so forgettable but eventually some teacher would notice that he wasn't in class. 

His phone was probably still on the warehouse roof with his backpack of necessities and whatever was left of his camera. How to get it? Sneaking out wouldn't usually be too difficult but there was the matter of his broken legs and the fact that he wasn't tall enough to open doors. Curses. There was no way he could get all the way to Crime Alley and back like this. 

There was always his spare phone though. It was only a burner but it had his parents number on it. He'd gotten it after a particularly bad galla. He had eaten a shrimp pastry and vomited all over his mother's dress. Tim shivered at the memory. His dad had smashed his phone and reduced his budget down so that it barely covered food. The burner was bought afterwards so that Tim always had a backup phone. It was stashed in Drake Manor under a floorboard in Tim's bedroom. The splint was tight around his leg, stopping most movement. Tim could probably limp there and back during the night. He could carry the phone in his mouth. 

Tim groaned. What was he thinking? Even if he got the phone, he couldn't exactly answer it. 

Dick stroked his head and Tim tried to relax. If this change was permanent, at least he'd never have to face his parents again. He loved his parents, he really did but he couldn't help disappointing them. No one seemed to expect anything from him here except to eat the food and not cause a mess on the couch. 

He watched Dick throw a red shell at Jason and win his fifth trophy. Jason flung his arms into the air in defeat. 

"How do you keep winning?" 

"It's all in the thumbs." Dick looked down at Tim's paws. "Sorry buddy. No trophy for you." 

Tim shrugged. He wouldn't know how to play anyway. 

"Dinner is ready Master Dick and Master Jason." Mr Pennyworth called from outside the room. Jason cheered.

"Alright game over. We'll call it a tie."

"I won every single game." 

"I nearly got you in that last one." 

"I still won."

"Boys!" 

"Coming!" They shouted back in unison. Feeling rather like a doll, Tim was swept back into Jason's arm and carried to the dining room. He expected to be placed on the ground but Jason kept him on his lap instead. Bruce raised his eyes at him. 

"What? He can't join the conversation if he's on the ground."

"Just don't put him on the table." Bruce said resigned. 

Throughout dinner, Jason kept passing him little bits of roast chicken. It was much better than the dog food and the chalky pain pills the vet had prescribed though they did help numb his legs. He wasn't really listening to the conversation until Jason piped up in response to something Bruce said. 

"We can't miss patrol tonight. I need to check out that warehouse you wouldn't let me go into."

"I can look after Robin, the little Robin that is. I won't be able to make it back to Bludhaven in time and it's better if Nightwing isn't seen going between the two whenever I'm in town." 

Jason looked guiltily down at Tim. "Is that ok if you stay with Dick?" Tim was a little startled by the question. Why would it matter what Tim thought? 

"I'll wear a comm," Dick suggested, "if there's any problem I'll tell you." 

Tim would be on his best behaviour. He wouldn't be the reason why Jason had to come back early. Tim was about to tune back out of the conversation not wanting to ease drop on the Wayne's when another thought occurred to him. What if Jason found his backpack? Even worse what if Jason found his camera and all the pictures of Batman on it. If they analysed the powder, they could discover that the dog in their house wasn't a dog at all. What would they do to him? Would they arrest him? He knew Batman didn't kill anyone. 

A warm hand nestled on him. The feeling was odd though like it was coming from a long way away. Batman would be so angry. Would he be angry at Jason for bringing him here and revealing their identities? He couldn't be the reason Jason got in trouble. Jason didn't do anything wrong. There were voices above him but they were all muffled. Tim's vision was growing black around the edges. He wouldn't be able to tell anyone their identities as a dog. If they found out that there was no cure, they could just throw him out. He wouldn't survive long on the streets as a puppy. Best case scenario someone else adopted him but worse he could be ripped apart by other dogs or even some of the more vicious rats. He might even just freeze to death before any of that. 

He couldn't let that happen but how was he supposed to stop it? The darkness was growing. Tim shuddered and let it take over. 

Chapter Text

Jason was panicking. One second Robin had been content to politely nibble up the chicken he was offering him and the next second he was oddly still. Jason put a hand on the little dog and found that he was breathing much too quickly.

"Bruce!" He cried out. "Something is wrong with Robin." Bruce became Batman in an instant. He hurried to join Jason and bent down to examine Robin.

"It's alright. Can you hear me, Robin?" Bruce spoke in that deep, calm voice that he used when Jason was having a panic attack. It didn't seem to make any difference on the puppy. His breathing was only growing quicker.

Could dogs get panic attacks? Robin's eyes did appear wide and full of fear. They were looking past both Jason and Bruce to some point in the distance. What could have triggered it? Jason thought back to what had been happening it started. He'd been talking about leaving for patrol but Robin was only a dog. He couldn't possibly understand what he was saying. The pup had seemed pretty anxious to leave Jason when he was at the vet and Leslie's but he had been fine since then with Dick.

Robin's eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Dick reached a hand in front of Robin's nose to check his breathing. As soon as he had fallen unconscious, his breathing had returned to a normal rhythm.

"What was that?" Jason's voice shook slightly as he spoke.

"Maria did say he probably came from a difficult background. We can check in with her if it happens again."

"You think it was a panic attack then?"

"I suspect so," Bruce put a comforting hand on Jason's shoulder, "I've seen this before when we broke up that dog fighting rink last month."

"Do you think it was something I did?"

"We can't know what caused it. We'll keep an eye on him and see if any patterns emerge." Jason nodded and stroked Robin slowly. "Finish your dinner," Bruce said softly. "He'll be alright, Jay."

It was a subdued dinner after that. Robin did not wake but he didn't seem distressed either. His breathing remained steady and if Jason had not witnessed the fit, he would have thought he was only sleeping. After putting his plates in the kitchen sink, he contented himself with setting up Robin's bed. Bruce had tried to get him to set it up closer to the doggy door that led out into the garden but Jason knew that his room was a much better spot. He'd bought the largest doggy bed they could find that was better suited for a fully grown Labrador. It was a made of a fluffy blue material, the same colour as Robin's eyes. He placed the pup on Jason's bed as he worked. Next to the bed he put a full bowl of water with a mat under it to soak up any spillage and an empty food bowl. Dick hurried to help by putting the softest stuffed animals on the bed. There was a lion with a rope tail, a green dinosaur with a squeaky tummy and a chicken with crinkly wings. They were all bigger than Robin.

Jason couldn't wait until Robin was big enough to jump on and off his bed. He liked the image of them curled up next to each other even though Bruce had explicitly forbidden it. Usually Jason would not hesitate to disobey whatever Bruce said but he didn't want Robin to fall or try and jump off the bed during the night and onto his injured legs.

With Robin still asleep, he settled into playing Monopoly with Dick and took great satisfaction in bankrupting him. For a kid who'd spent a lot of time on the streets, he knew how to handle money. During the game, he kept an eye on Robin. Sometime during the fourth game when Dick was about to rip his hair out, Robin woke. Taking that has an excuse, Dick crept over to him.

"Feeling better?" Robin wouldn't look at either of them in the eye but happily let Dick pat him. It was growing steadily darker outside. Given that it was the weekend and close to the beginning of the term, Jason would usually leave to go on patrol early but he hesitated to leave Robin.

"I'll have the comm on the whole time."

"You don't mind staying?"

"Nope," Dick said, popping the p. "I got to practice my monopoly anyway."

"You're not allowed to get better at it than me. I can't beat you at anything else."

"You beat me in scrabble."

"Yeah but Bruce always wants to play when we do Scrabble and he beats all of us."

"I think he cheats. You can't convince me quixotry is a real word."

"It means a wild or eccentric act."

"Oh fuck off."

"Ha! I'll tell..." Dick reached into his pocket and threw a dollar at Jason.

"Trust me. I won't let anything happen to him."

"Alright." Jason kissed Robin's head. The dog looked up at him intently but he wasn't panicking like last time. Each step away from Robin pained him but he really wanted to check out that warehouse. There was definitely something wrong with those crates. He reached the grandfather clock and shifted the numbers until it read 3:16. Bruce had changed the password after Jason had arrived. The three was for Dick’s birthday month March and the sixteen for Jason’s birthday on August 16th.

Bruce was already waiting for them in front of the Bat Computer ™ in full Batman gear.

“Robin?”

“With Dick. He seems ok.”

“Uh that’s great but I was actually talking to you.”

“Oh, I can see how this might get confusing.” Jason hurried to squeeze into his costume and pull his domino mask on. “I’m ready.”

“We’ll make this a quick patrol. Just the short route to the warehouse you wanted to check and back.” It was hard to gauge Bruce’s expression in the cowl but he wasn’t doing the gravely Batman Voice ™ yet so Jason could gather what his words meant.

“Dick said he’ll be on comms so I’ll know if anything’s wrong with little Robin.”

“Even so, we’ll keep it short.”

Jason nodded, picking up his grappling hook. It was time to figure out what was really in those crates.

Chapter Text

Bruce led Jason through the steadily darkening streets of Gotham once he’d parked the Batmobile in a secure location. He kept a close eye on Jason who seemed distracted, barely noticing anything that was happening on ground level.

He knew Dick was providing commentary throughout. It appeared to ease the tension somewhat but Jay was still more rigid than usual. They stopped a few muggers and carjackers but mostly kept to the rooftops. By the time they reached the docks it was fully dark. Jason swung over to one of the warehouses.

“This is the one B.”

Bruce cut through the chains over the door easily and it swung open with a grinding creak.

“Are you sure?” Bruce asked looking around the inside of the warehouse.

“Yes I’m sure why?” Jason joined him at the entrance. Instead of the crates Jason had described, the warehouse was empty.

“It was this one,” Jason insisted. Bruce ventured further into the warehouse. He saw that on the ground there were a few faint square outlines just visible due to a dusting a white powder that still lay around it.

“Stay where you are Robin.” He brought out a sample kit from his belt and lightly scooped up the powder into it, careful not to let any touch his skin. “I believe you’re right but whatever was here has been moved.”

“Do you think Scarecrows planning an attack?” Jason asked from the doorway.

“Very possibly. We’ll take this sample back to the lab.” Slipping a gas mask on, Bruce swept through the rest of the warehouse but didn’t find anything else.

“B!” Jay shouted from outside. Bruce found him crouched on the ground holding something.

“I found it over there,” he said pointing into a particularly shadowy side of the warehouse. He held the object up for Bruce and he saw that it was a camera. Its lens and screen were cracked but when he flipped it open he found that the SD card was intact. “What’s a camera like that doing in Crime Alley?”

“I have a hunch.” Bruce looked up at the spot where Jason said he found the camera. He released his grappling hook and pulled himself up onto the warehouse roof. Right near the edge was a small black backpack and a gas mask. Bruce followed a path across the roof until he reached a hole that would provide a perfect view down into the warehouse. He scooped up the mask and the backpack and jumped back down to Jay.

“Nice backpack,” Jay said when Bruce held it out to him, “much cleaner than anything you’d find here but not brand new either. Whoever owned it had probably been using it for a while.”

“Good,” Bruce unzipped it and looked inside. There was two granola wrappers, a Robin themed water bottle, a basic first aid kit, a torch, a pocket knife, something that looked suspiciously like a makeshift police radio and a phone with a Bat silhouette on the case.

“Is it just me B or does this look like a kid’s backpack?”

“Looks like they’re a fan.” Bruce said dryly.

Jason paled under the dim street lights around the docks. “You don’t think he was here last night?”

“I have my suspicions and I don’t like them.” Bruce pulled out the phone and turned it on. There was nine digit passcode in front of a beautiful image of Gotham at night taken from very high up. “Let’s get back to the cave and see if the Batcomputer can hack into this.”

“I doubt some kid has better inscription than the Batcomputer can handle.”

“I wouldn’t bet on it.”

They made quick work of getting back to the Batmobile.

“All tires still on?”

“Yep,” Jason called jumping into the car. “I’ll have to try again next week.”

Bruce shook his head exasperatedly and slid the gears to drive. In interviews, Brucie Wayne often said his favourite thing was fast cars. It was about the only honest thing he said in those magazines. The Batmobile sped through Gotham with barely a sound.

“Put your seat belt on,” Bruce called to Jason in the back as the buildings around them became blurs.

He swerved to the right and through the waterfall that hid the way down into the Batcave. Once the car was parked, Jason practically sprinted off upstairs to the manor.

“Take off the costume.”

Jason cursed and hurried to pull the pieces off until he was in his undershirt and pants while still running. Bruce let Jason leave, focussing instead on the SD card and phone in his hand.

He plugged the SD card in first and picture after picture of Batman, Robin and even some of Nightwing appeared on the Batcomputer’s large screen. These shots were interspersed with photos of anything from drug dealings to full on rogue attacks.

He was just clicking through the latest photos when Jason returned.

“Robin’s asleep,” he said joining Bruce at the computer, “Dick said he was fine all night.” He turned to look at the screen.

“Is this the camera?” He took the mouse from Bruce’s hand and sped through the images. “Do we have a stalker? I never noticed anyone. Should we be worried?”

“Not necessarily though I will be looking into this more.”

“You know who it is?”

“I know their pseudonym. Several of these photos I recognise as ones that have been anonymously sent to to the police. Each was signed off as being from a concerned citizen. The police there all refer to him as CC.”

“And it’s all the same guy?”

“The style of photos and writing is the same though I wasn’t aware their night time activities involved taking picture of us.”

“You didn’t know? I’ve been trying to sneak up on you all year.” Jason switched to another picture that showed a close up of Killer Crocs jaws snapping just out of reach of Robin’s cape. “He’d need to be really close to the fight to get some of these.”

Bruce grunted. That was not the only thing making him uneasy. He took the mouse back from Jason and scrolled to the photos taken last night. There were a few of different gargoyles and Gotham roof tops before the pictures of men loading crates into a warehouse.

“Those were the crates I saw last night. We’ve got to find him. Maybe he knows where they went.” Bruce scrolled to the last image that showed one of the goons being punched into a pile of crates.

“I doubt CC is the sort of person to leave his camera behind.”

“You think something happened to him? What about the kid with the backpack? Maybe he saw something.” Bruce drew out the phone and opened its Lock Screen. He held the image of Gothams skyline against the aerial shots on the camera. Jason stared.

“No way. The backpack's clearly for a kid. We’d notice if a kid was following us on patrol.”

Bruce didn’t like how the pieces were coming together. Jason seemed to realise the same thing as he did.

“He left his phone and even with the camera broken, there was still the SD card…”

“Yes,” Bruce said looking regretfully at the last image on screen, “if he left of his own volition it was in a rush or otherwise…”

“Surely if a kid has gone missing we’ll hear about it on the news. A kid who can afford a camera this nice must have a family who’ll notice he’s gone.”

“Hopefully,” Bruce said but he couldn’t help thinking that this was the same family who didn’t notice him leave almost every night to take pictures in the worst part of Gotham. “I’ll see what I can get out of the phone. You should get to bed.”

“It’s not that late.”

“You wouldn’t want Robin to wake up and find you missing.” Jason glared at him.

“I see what you’re doing.”

“He might be lonely.”

“Fine I’m leaving,” Despite his assurances that he was not tired, Jason stifled a yawn as he trailed his feet back up the steps. Bruce continued to study the photographs pausing on every close up shot on a rogue or every precarious shot from much too high off the ground.

He’d couldn’t let the kid’s heroes fail them. It was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Tim couldn’t sleep. He let his eyes close and his breath slow but there was too much going on in his head to allow him to sleep. He wished he had a watch or something, anything to do to distract himself. Dick had left a little while ago after assuring Jason that he was asleep over comms. His legs didn’t hurt as much after the medication he’d been given with dinner, but they still throbbed dully.

Not long after Dick left, Jason came back up but he didn’t stay long, only poking his head around the door. He didn’t rush in and arrest Tim so that must mean he hadn’t figured out who he really was. Someone else might have stolen the camera and the phone before Batman and Robin got there.

He snuggled close to the lion toy Jason had bought him. It was childish. He hadn’t needed stuffed toys since he turned three and attended his first gala, but his parents weren’t here to tell him off. He hadn’t received a gift like this for a long time. His parents tended to just send him money to buy his own birthday and Christmas presents nowadways.

Jason came back again, his shoulders hunched. Tim turned away as he pulled on his pyjamas and fell into bed. He wasn’t full of the same bouncy excitement he’d had when last checking on Tim. Could it be that he’d realised who his new dog was? No, he wouldn’t just go asleep in the same room as someone who had proven themselves a threat by knowing their identities and patrol routes.

Tim would have to find out tomorrow.

“Goodnight Robin,” Jason murmured into the silence. He seemed to fall asleep quickly, but Tim just couldn’t bring himself to doze off. Instead, he watched the moon fall and eventually the sun rise through the window. It must have been very early in the morning when he at last drifted off for the next he knew, he was being woken by the sounds of Jason shuffling around his bedroom looking for clothes to wear.

“Hey,” he said happily when he noticed that Tim was awake. He bounded over to him with considerably more energy than last night and scratched at a spot behind his ear that made Tim go boneless. A pillow wacked against Jason’s head and he turned around to glare at Dick who was standing in the doorway. Dick shrugged innocently.

“Just checking if you were awake.”

“I’m literally standing up. How could I still be asleep?”

“Could be sleepwalking.” Dick was dressed in jeans and a hoodie with Nightwing’s logo on the front pocket. Tim wondered how any of them still had secret identities. “Come on, we’re going to the dog park.”

“Gotham has a dog park?”

“Apparently,” Dick cooed at Tim who couldn’t prevent a yawn that caused his old body to shudder.

“Fine but I want breakfast first.” He scooped up Tim whose stupid legs wouldn’t let him do much of anything but watch as Jason followed Dick downstairs.

Mr Pennyworth was awake and impeccably dressed as always.

“I’ve prepared omelettes today. I unfortunately seemed to have forgotten to purchase your favoured brand of cereal.” He looked pointedly at Dick.

“No stress Alfred. I thought this might happen and I bought my own yesterday.” He ducked over to the panty and drew out an obnoxiously bright box of cereal that had been hidden behind significantly healthier options. Alfred sighed.

“I have Little Master Robin’s breakfast and his medication as well.” He passed the same plain dogfood to Jason as well as a small white tablet. Tim swallowed them both down obediently. It still wasn’t the worst taste, but he was getting tired of it. His mouth watered at the smell of the omelettes Jason had piled on his plate.

Mr Wayne was already at the kitchen table, sipping a large cup of coffee. There were dark shadows under his eyes and his suit was rather ruffled.

“Any luck cracking into that phone last night?” Jason asked causing Tim’s ears to prick up.

“No,” Mr Wayne said wearily, “I just keep finding more encryption. The kid must have someone helping him out…”

“Or he’s a little genius.”

Tim breathed out slowly. It sounded like they had found his phone last night but the safeguards he’d put in place had worked. He flushed slightly at Robin calling him a genius, but he doubted his hacking could last much longer against Batman. There was only one option. He had to steal that phone. The longer he left it, the more chance Batman would figure out who he was or worse his parents would try to reach him. It was probably in the Batcave which meant Tim needed to find the entrance.

“Well, while you work on that, Jason and I are going to the dog park.”

“Gotham has a dog park?” Mr Wayne looked up curiously.

“That’s what I said.” Jason added.

“Yep, I looked it up last night.”

“Shame Robin won’t exactly be able to run around.”

“No but he can still check it out.” Dick said, stuffing a spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth.

“I advise you take umbrellas,” Alfred said, peering out at the cloudy grey sky outside the kitchen window.

“Already got one.” Dick drained the last of his bowl and washed it in the sink, looking impatiently at Jason who was still finishing the omelette.

“You’d never guess I’m the younger one,” Jason said in exasperation.

“Actually, you’re the middle child. Robin’s the youngest and he’s already finished breakfast so you’re the one slowing us down.”

Tim knew that Dick was only joking but the comment made something inside him glow brightly. He dimmed slightly though by the thought that there was no way he could sneak into the Batcave from the dog park. He could only hope it would rain.

“Ok, ok, I’m done,” Jason said. He glanced back at Bruce as Dick picked up the keys to his car. “You’ll let me know if you find anything about the kid?”

“I will,” Bruce promised.

Dick pulled Jason and Tim away from the table.

“Be back soon,” he shouted behind him, opening the door and rushing out towards his car. The air outside was sticky with the promise of rain. Tim shivered slightly tucked himself into the black waterproof jacket Jason had put on.

It might be selfish, but he didn’t want to lose this. Operation “steal his phone back” had begun.

Chapter Text

"Ok..." Dick said, staring at the dog park before them. It was a rectangle of perfectly cut grass surounded by an iron fence so polished that it gleamed even under the overcast sky. The park was filled with the type of women that Dick was often forced to talk to at one of Bruce's galas. They all had the same expensive leather handbags, wingtipped glasses, coats in varying shades of beige and an air of old money about them. Their dogs were just as designer as their outfits, little poodles with fancy collars and perfect manicures. They were clustered together until one of them noticed the newcomers and twisted around like sharks on the hunt for juicy gossip.

"It's a dog park in Bristol. What did you expect?" Jason turned as if to leave.

"Hey not so quick. Robin might want to make some friends."

"With this lot? I bet even their poodles are condescending."

"Only one way to find out." Dick unlatched the fence and carried Robin towards the other dogs. Jason followed warily.

"Oh hello dears." A woman that Dick vaguely recognised from one of Bruce's gallas came up to them. "You're Brucie's...children, aren't you?" She said the word "children" like it was not the first word she thought of when looking at Dick and Jason. "And who’s the little one." She wiggled a finger in front of Robin as if he was a baby. Instead of flinching away, Robin extended a paw out to her. The lady took the paw with a laugh and shook it. "Oh he's so well behaved."

Dick and Jason exchanged a glance. Jason smiled vaguely at the woman and pulled Dick away.

"I didn't know you could do tricks," Dick said to the puppy in his arms. He turned to Jason. "I thought he was from Crime Alley? Where would he have learned that?"

"I did think his fur looked a little too clean for an alley dog." Robin hid his head in Dick's arms. "And he does look a little like a designer breed."

"If he did have owners here, they clearly weren't looking after him and I haven't seen any missing dog posters."

"Well he's ours now," Jason pat Robin's head, "and we won't let anything bad happen to you." Robin tail gave a tentative wag. Dick sat down on the grass and shifted the pup so that he stood beside him. Another poodle came up to them and started to try and sniff Robin's behind. Robin skittered awkwardly back at once. The poodle yipped and bent down into a sort of bow with its tail wagging. Robin just looked up at Dick helplessly.

The dog’s owner thought that was the perfect moment to come up to them, towering over Dick and Jason who were all sat on the ground.

“Aww I haven’t seen you boys here before. Don’t mind Rosie, she’s quite excitable.” Rosie dove at Robin’s face and Dick had to intercept her.

“Yeah I can see that.”

“Agnes told me you’re Brucie’s boys. She said he won’t shut up you two. I’m sure you bring a lot of excitement being from such colourful backgrounds. Everything here must seem so dull in comparison.”

“How could it be dull with such lovely company?” Dick said, eye narrowed.

“Oh you’re sweet.” The woman said completely missing the sarcasm. “Maybe I should get myself a boy like Brucie did. I can never get my own Johnny to behave. I’m sure a few weeks on the street would change that.” She had a tinkly laugh and batted at Dick’s shoulder. He shuffled out of her reach.

A few drops of rain fell onto Dick’s face.

“Oh my. I better get going,” the woman said clutching her jacket tightly around her, “it takes forever for fox fur to dry.”

Jason stood. He stared at Dick, arms crossed.

“Ok I admit the dog park was a bad idea.” Dick said, snagging Robin and pulling himself up.

“Let’s just go home,” Jason said, looking around at the clusters of women who were all not so subtly staring at them. The rain was picking up and Dick held the umbrella over all three of them.

“We’re dog owners now. We had to go to a dog park at some point but maybe we’ll find one somewhere a little more…”

“Colourful?”

“I never really liked beige anyway.” A small grin formed on Jason’s face.

“Now I’m just imagining you in beige.”

“Noo.” Dick whined. They drove back to the manor in relative silence. The woman’s comments had got Dick thinking back to his family. Even though it had been years now, the memories still caused something deep in Dick’s body to ache. His mother had always been so unabashed about their background both as Romani and as circus performers. She always said, “if people are going to stare, let’s put on a show.”

He pulled into his usual parking spot outside Wayne Manor and opened the car door for Jason. The rain had quickly turned into an almost solid blanket around them. Dick and Jason rushed into the house and Jason put Robin down so he could shake himself.

“We can introduce Robin to the outside world later.” Dick hung his jacket up near the door and headed up to the lounge room. “I want to see what tricks he might be able to do.”

“I’ll get some treats,” Jason agreed eagerly, ducking into the kitchen.

They sat on the red patterned carpet in the centre of the lounge room, Jason with a handful of dog bone shaped treats. Robin stood before them looking between the two.

“Ok, let’s try…sit.” Robin sat. Jason fed him a treat.

“Ok, Ok, I want to try,” Jason said, “lie down.” Robin obediently lay down, eyes still flickering between the both of them. He got another treat.

“What about play dead?” Robin just cocked his head to the side.

“I wish we could try fetch but I don’t want to hurt his leg.”

“There’s shake,” Dick held out his hand like the woman had and Robin immediately put a paw out. “Aww he’s a little businessman.” Jason fed him the last few treats.

“Master Dick and Jason, I suggest you dry off before sitting on the carpet.” Jason and Dick turned from Robin and looked up at Alfred in the doorway.

“Sorry Alfred,” they said together.

“Just see that its done,” he said walking back out of the room.

“We’ll be quick,” Jason said to Robin, “uh, stay.” Dick and Jason rushed up the stairs, turning off into their own bedrooms. Dick switched his hoodie out for a plain black one he’d stolen from Bruce and his jeans for a pair of sweatpants. He ducked out of his room just as Jason reappeared with his hair all tousled and in blue sweatshirt.

“We could play fetch but on a small scale, just rolling the ball,” Dick suggested as they hurried down the stairs into the lounge. Jason threw the door open. They both glanced down at the carpet expecting to see a little bundle of black fluff where they’d let him but there was no one there. Dick looked around the room, bending to see under the couch and behind the TV. There was nothing there. Robin was gone.

Chapter Text

Bruce was about to pull his hair out. He had spent all of last night and morning trying to identify the kid with the Batman themed phone case. With increasing jittery fingers from all the coffee he'd drunk, Bruce had scoured over every photo trying to uncover something that would reveal who owned the camera. He had searched every official and unofficial missing person’s report but none matched the profile and the phone was still proving impossible to hack into. Every second that passed built a more detailed image of some faceless kid chained up somewhere or broken on the ground wishing for a hero that was not coming.

He was only pulled out of these thoughts by the Batcave entrance being thrown up. Feeling each muscle ache from sitting for too long, Bruce set the phone back on his desk and stood up. Jason rushed up to him.

“Robin’s missing.” Bruce was instantly on alert.

“I’ll help look,” he said, slipping ever so slightly into Batman’s lower register. As he followed Jason through the hidden door to the cave he thought he felt something brush against his leg but when he looked down there was nothing there.
Dick slipped out of the kitchen and closed the door.

“He’s not in there.”

“He can’t have gone far,” Bruce said, keeping his voice calm and steady, “he’s probably just hiding.”

“It doesn’t help when he’s the same colour as the shadows.” Dick stepped into the dining room and started to inspect under each chair.

“What if he’s stuck somewhere and can’t get out?” Jason rushed to the doggy door that had been installed just off the dining room and led into the backyard. “What if he’s run away?”

“There are proximity alarms around the whole house.”

“I avoid them all the time,”

“That’s because you keep finding and disabling them. I doubt Robin could do that.”

They checked the dining room, the laundry, the parlour, the backup smaller parlour and the first floor of bedrooms but did not find Robin anywhere.

“Where did he disappear from?” Bruce asked Jason who was looking more and more frantic.

“The lounge room. We were only gone for a few minutes.” Bruce rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“I can check the security cameras in the Batcave. We should be able to see where he went.”

“I don’t know if I should be creeped out that you have cameras all around the house or glad.” Dick said shuddering. “I need to have some secrets.”

“They’re just for emergencies,” Bruce assured him, “I don’t need the cameras to know about your snack hoards.”

“It’s hiding them from Alfred that’s the real trick.”

Bruce headed down to the grandfather clock on the first floor and moved the hands into position. When he moved inside he could have sworn he felt the same brush of movement around his feet as before but once more there was nothing there. His paranoia might just be getting the best of him.

He sat down at the computer and noticed that his desk was on a slight angle like someone had shoved it forwards. Then again he had been awake for nearly twenty four hours. Bruce pushed it back in place and booted up the security program that was attached to the house. He slid to the time when Jason and Dick said they’d left to get changed.

The three of them watched how, as soon as the boys had left, Robin fled out the door with surprising speed given his broken leg and general tininess. Bruce flicked to the hallways cameras and saw Robin toter with purpose. He checked each room as if he was looking for something. After a couple of minutes, he stopped in front of the grandfather clock and sat, head cocked to one side. Bruce heard Jason calling out for Robin through the computer’s high quality speakers. At the sound, Robin pricked up his ears and seemed to vanish into the shadows.

Curiously, Bruce sped up footage. He saw Jason throw the clock open and followed their journey searching throughout the house but did not see Robin again. Bruce twisted in his chair to stare at Dick and Jason. They both had identical expressions of perplexion.

The Batcave door opened once more but this time it was Alfred standing outside it, clutching a little pup in his arms.

“I have found Little Master Robin. It seems he found his way into the pantry looking for more treats.”

Jason’s shoulder hunched in relief. He rushed up to Robin and smattered him in kisses. “Don’t do that to me again.” He said though the sternness in his voice was somewhat diluted by the grin on his face.

Dick stayed a little longer at the screen. “Do you think that’s what he was looking for, treats?”

“It makes sense,” Bruce rewound the footage and rewatched how Robin almost seemed to know how to avoid the cameras. It felt like something was missing. He must really be going mad. Robin was just a dog. “He’s back now. That’s what important.”

“Yeah.” Dick straightened up. “Well come on B. You can’t spend all day in here. I’m told too much screentime is bad for you.”

Bruce grumbled but happily allowed himself to be pulled away by his children. The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Despite Dick’s comment about screens, they spent a lazy afternoon watching movies with Robin asleep on Jason’s lap. Bruce offered to make popcorn and was told in no uncertain terms that his kitchen ban was still in place since the last time he caused a fire making toast. Alfred joined them for a TV dinner after a lengthy discussion about how the dining room table was a much better spot.

It was only after he tucked Jason into bed and listened to Dick talk about he was too old to be tucked into bed that Bruce realised what he was missing. He looked down at his desk and saw only case files and empty mugs of coffee. The kid’s phone was gone.

A little drawing of what Tim looks like

Chapter Text

Tim watched Jason get ready for school, his stomach churning. He could just feel the solid edge of his phone beneath the bed’s layers of cushioned fabric. His legs were killing him from all the wandering yesterday. As soon as Jason and Dick had left, he’d taken his chance to find the Batcave. He honestly hadn’t been expecting to find it so soon thinking that Bruce would have hid it somewhere more subtle than behind a broken grandfather’s clock. He may have been only living here for two days but he already knew Mr Pennyworth was not the sort of man to let a clock remain in anything other than perfect condition.

The biggest challenge had been pushing the desk out a place with nothing but two working dog paws but if there was anything he’d learned from his nightly adventures into the city it was patience and a higher than average pain tolerance. Really, it wasn’t worse than when he’d shattered his ankle right when he’d just been learning how to follow the Bats and hadn’t mastered jumping between buildings.

Jason swung his backpack over one shoulder and bent down to Tim's level. “Sorry I’m leaving you baby bird,” he kissed on top of his head. “I’ll come right back after school.” Tim nuzzled into his touch. He didn’t know how he could go back to how things were before this.

He sat in Jason’s lap throughout breakfast and used his biggest puppy dog eyes to get little pieces of sausage from both Dick and Jason’s plate. Bruce sighed wearily when he noticed but didn’t say anything. He even slipped him an extra large peice when Dick and Jason weren’t watching.

Dick was talking about going back to Bludhaven this afternoon and Tim was going to miss him. He hoped he’d come back soon. For the time being, he contented himself being pampered by his heroes and trying not to think about the phone under his bed.

Bruce had to push Jason out of the door to get him to leave Robin. Mr Pennyworth assured Jason that he’d keep an eye on Tim. Dick was leaving to visit some of his Gotham friends which meant Tim had the perfect opportunity to check the phone without looking too suspicious. He’d noticed all the cameras around the house on the first night but he was no stranger to avoiding cameras. It was essential both in Gotham and at home where his parents occasionally liked to check that he was doing the right thing. It was nice that they watched over him but Tim didn’t think they’d approve of his nighttime wanderings.

When everything was finally gone, Tim slipped away from Mr Pennyworth. Ensuring that he was in a blind spot, he gripped the phone with his teeth and drew it out from under the bed. Luckily his claws were fine enough that he could press the on button and type in his password but what he saw on the home screen made his blood freeze.

Three missed calls from Janet Drake.

Tim’s breathing quickened. This could not be happening. His mother never called him. She preferred him to leave messages or emails if there was an emergency so she wouldn’t be distracted from her current dig. The last time they had called, Tim had got a B+ on an English report but that had been more than eight months ago. Why were they calling now? Just when everything was going so well. Just when he was happy.

Tim needed a plan. He needed to be human.

His breathing was too fast. Familiar blackness was starting to creep in but he couldn’t let it. The longer he waited, the worse it would get. He could text but he had already missed three calls, his mother would want to know why. He was supposed to always be available. It was part of being the man of the house.

Tim focused on his breathing. He held it in for five seconds then released for seven. He did it again. Each time the blackness receded a little more. He needed to be human. The phase became a mantra in his head.

I need to be human.

I need to be human.

I need to be human.

At some point he closed his eyes.

I need to be human.

I NEED TO BE HUMAN.

There was a burst of pain in his head that spread like poison throughout his body. It softened to a tingle, coursing all the way to his fingertips and the bottom of his feet. Wait feet?

Tim opened his eyes and saw that where there had been paws there were now feet. He lifted his hands up and saw that they were indeed hands. Excited Tim touched his face and hair and chest. He was still clothed somehow. Tim’s scientific brain said this was impossible but so was turning into a dog. He’d basically just ruled it as magic and moved on at this point. He was glad anyhow.

The excitement died when he saw the messages still shining out from his phone screen on the ground. He scooped it up, his fingers trembling slightly.  This is what he wanted. He wished to be human and now he was.

Tim pressed the phone’s call button. His mother answered immediately.

“Oh Timothy about time,” her cold tone made Tim flinch. “I shouldn’t have to call three times before you pick up.”

“Sorry mother,” Tim said, his voice was basically a rasp from two days of disuse.

“Speak up Timothy,” his mother scolded.

“Sorry mother,” Tim said, a little clearer.

“Now where are you? We got back from our dig yesterday only to find the house empty. Do you know how many valuable artefacts we keep in this house? We have a vase from the Ming Dynasty. It is one of a kind. Imagine if someone had stolen it while you were out doing whatever.”

“I’m sorry.” Tim said, trying to keep from mumbling. His mother hated that. “I was just…”

“I don’t want your excuses,” his mother interrupted. “I just need you to come home.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to come back for another month.”

“If you had checked your phone yesterday you would have seen that we had to cancel our Egyptian dig. They wouldn’t process our visa. Our lawyers said it would take a few weeks to get settled.”

“Oh.” Tim didn’t know what else to say.

“What did I say about volume? I expect you home now.”

“It’s schooltime.”

“No excuses.”

“Ok I’ll come over.”

“Yes you will and we will have a serious conversation about responsibility.” His mother hung up. Tim was left staring at his phone. He walked numbly to the bedroom window. His legs felt like they weren’t connected to the rest of his body. Tim unlatched the window. Even in this state he knew where he would remain unseen by the outside cameras he’d noticed during the humiliating bathroom breaks he’d been forced to do as Robin. A sob rose in his throat. His vision blurred.

Whatever science had caused his clothes to remain hadn’t worked on his splint but he barely noticed the pain as he clambered out into the backyard.

As Tim walked away towards Drake Manor he didn’t look back. He didn’t think he could stand to leave if he did.

Chapter Text

Tim approached the door to Drake Manor, feeling like a condemned man ready to be hung. With each step closer, the fog cleared somewhat which only made his legs ache more and his fingers tremble. They were going to be so disappointed in him.

He opened the door and snuck inside, taking note of all the suitcases still in the doorway. Tim could hear his dad’s voice talking to someone on the phone in the other room. He tip-toed as softly as he could through the entrance hall towards the stairs. As his luck would have it, he didn’t even reach the kitchen before his mother blocked his path looking furious.

“What are you wearing?” She exclaimed, grabbing at the all black clothing he always wore when following Batman and Robin. It was somewhat ruffled from being worn for two days straight. “Do you know how much we spend on clothes for you?” Tim did in fact know as he’d been paying for his own clothes for the last couple of years. He had enough loafers and beige shorts for when his parents were around but they were hardly suitable for climbing up fire escapes and jumping across roof tops. Tim knew better than to say any of this. He simply hung his head.

“Eyes on me,” his mother insisted. Tim raised them to look somewhere on her chin playing the usual game of apologetic but not meek, confident but not defiant. Jack strolled into the room, a half empty glass of bourbon in his hand.

“They still won’t permit our visa,” his eyes glanced right over Tim to Janet, “some new conservation law.”

“Jack,” Janet snapped, “your son is home.” Tim cowered under Jack’s disinterested stare.

“Isn’t he supposed to be at school or something?” He could feel Janet’s glare.

“And now you’re skiving off school?”

“No but you…”

“Don’t talk back at your mother.” Jack set his glass down on the kitchen counter and rounded on Tim. Instinctively he took a step back onto his broken leg and couldn’t suppress a gasp of pain. Neither parent seemed to notice.

“We’ve been invited to the Westcott’s end of Autumn galla this Wednesday night. I expect you to get rid of whatever attitude you seem to have developed while we’ve been away.” Janet snapped sharply. Tim nodded.

“I want a verbal response.”

“Yes, mother.”

“And I’m cutting your budget. I’ll not let you spend our money while you run around Gotham dressed as a vagabond instead of at school or in the house. Do you understand?”

“Yes mother.”

“Ok, now go up to your room. You’re grounded.”

“But school…?

“What did I say about talking back?” Jack’s phone started ringing again. He gave once last look at Tim before his face shifted into a pleasant smile as he answered the phone. “Oh Margaret, it’s been so long. Yes, about Egypt.” His voice drifted off as he wandered off to his office.

“Don’t just stand here. Go on.” Janet pushed him forward and Tim tottered obediently off to his room, gripping the stair’s railing like a crutch and trying not to put any weight on his leg. It was rather a good thing, he wasn’t being forced to go to school. He had time to make his own splint. Janet followed him until she reached his door and drew out a key.

Tim heard it lock behind him as he collapsed onto his bed. He spent the rest of the day with his doona wrapped around him. It was good to have his computer and his fingers back but his mind wouldn’t focus. After a few hours he gave up and retrieved the box of photographs from under his bed. There he looked at pictures of Batman, Robin and Nightwing. He found his favourite picture at the bottom of the pile. There he was at three years old on Dick’s lap giving him the first hug he remembered. Tim wrapped his doona tighter around him. He was starting to grow hungry but knew better than to go downstairs. Tim wondered if any of the Waynes had realised he was gone by now. Would they look for him?

The sun slowly dipped outside his window but neither his mother nor father had come up to tell them it was ok to leave his room. When he couldn’t ignore the hunger anymore, he cautiously dismantled the lock, allowing the door to slide open just wide enough for him to squeeze through. Tim listened intently at the opening but he couldn’t hear anyone downstairs. He shuffled down to the kitchen as quietly as his new splinted leg would allow and grabbed as much food from the pantry as he could. Since he hadn't eaten here for the last two days, there was more than usual. Typically, he would already have a stash hidden in his room but he hadn’t bothered to restock it since his parents were still supposed to be overseas for another four weeks. He knew he couldn’t overindulge though, not with the new budget cuts.

There was no noise around him and Tim wondered if his parents had gone out and forgotten to tell him. They were never really ones for family mealtimes, preferring Gotham’s restaurants to Mrs Mac’s cooking or ordering in.

Nevertheless, Tim still creeped upstairs, treading softly on the wooden floorboards. Safely back in his room, he wolfed down two granola bars and half a bottle of room temperature water. He’d have to leave the rest for now, who knew how long his parents would ground him for.

He closed his eyes with a sigh. Lying in his bedroom, stomach still rumbling, he thought he finally understood why people said they were jealous of their dogs. Perhaps he should have just stayed Robin, at least then he wouldn’t be alone.

Chapter Text

Tim got ready for school reluctantly the next day. His parents were both downstairs when he came down after making sure that his school issued black vest and tie were straight and his hair was flat. His makeshift splint was hidden under the black school trousers.

“Good morning Timothy,” his mother said lightly from the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee made out the expensive beans he was expressly forbidden from touching.

“Morning mother,” Tim said, supressing the wince at his full name.

“Hey sport,” Jack thudded a hand down on Tim’s shoulder and his knees nearly buckled. “You all good to catch the bus today. We’ve got a meeting with a potential donor for our next trip.”

“Did you get the visa you needed?”  His parents’ eyes always lit up when they were talking about their archology digs.

“We’ll get it,” Jack assured Tim jovially, “but we’ve got permission for a dig in Argentina over Christmas.”

“Oh,” Tim stared down at his shoes, “I can catch the bus.”

“We’re getting drinks after work. I’m sure Mrs Mac has left you something for dinner.”  Tim nodded before remembering yesterday.

“Yes mother.” He looked cautiously at his parents and when they didn’t stop him, he got some bread from the pantry and quickly spread peanut butter on it.

As he opened the door with one hand, bread in the other, his mother called out after him. “Make us proud.” The words caused a little spark of warmth in his stomach.

“I’ll try,” he whispered to himself.

Tim had to hurry to catch the bus since there was no way he could ride his bike to the station with his leg the way it was.

With the automated program he’d inputted into the school system, he only had to go every couple of days to avoid his parents being called. He was the smallest person in his class having skipped two grades. It had taken a few months but he had perfected the art of being invisible. Now the other students tended to just leave him alone.

With his leg screaming, he dragged himself to his first period. The day did not improve. His parents never remembered to order school lunches so his stomach joined every other aching part of his body. He must have looked pretty pitiful, limping around the school for two teachers had already asked him if he was ok. Tim assured them that he had just stepped on his leg funny that morning and hoped it was enough to stop them from calling his parents. That was the last thing he needed right now.

Instead of sitting in the canteen area, he hid behind a bookshelf in the library and pulled out his laptop. He scrolled to his secret email account he used to anonymously send tips to the police and saw that he had three unread emails from Commissioner Gordan. Opening them up, he saw that they were each asking him for an update about whether he was alright.

Mr Wayne must have noticed the similarities between the photos on Tim’s camera and those he sent to the police. There wasn’t any personal photos on his camera that would connect his anonymous role as CC to Tim Drake. How should he respond? He typed out a few responses before he was happy. It final draft read:

Dear Commissioner, Gordan,

Thank you sincerely for your concerns. I have been chasing an independent lead, preventing me from replying sooner. It will keep me from sending any new images for a while though I assure you I am unharmed.

Kind regards,

A Concerned Citizen

That sounded professional and in no way indicated that he’d been trapped as a dog for the last two days. With that sent, Tim drifted in and out of focus for his final two classes of the day. The last class of the day was gym but after one look at Tim’s limp, his teacher let him sit out on the sidelines. He finished his English and maths homework while he waited for class to end. At long last, the final bell rung and he scurried to leave.

He was so eager to get home that he didn’t notice another boy come out of nowhere and collide into him. Tim fell right onto his bad leg and to his humiliation, tears immediately rose in his eyes. He cried out, clutching at his leg and doing everything he could to not just start sobbing everywhere.

“Shit I’m so sorry,” a voice said from above him. Wiping his eyes, Tim looked up only to find himself staring directly at none other than Jason Todd.

Chapter Text

Jason had to be dragged to school today. He had insisted on staying home to look for Robin but Bruce wouldn’t listen. Something stupid about education being important. When he had first received the call from Alfred sounding more frantic than he’d ever heard him, he thought Robin was just looking for snacks again or sleeping under one of their beds. The more time that went by though proved that not to be the case. Bruce had checked and rechecked the cameras but all he could see was Robin going into Jason’s bedroom and never coming out again. Dick had said he’d delay his trip back to Bludhaven to look but he’d had no more luck finding Robin than Bruce.

Jason hadn’t paid attention to any of his classes. All he could think about was Robin lost somewhere in Gotham. He remembered how anxious Robin had been to leave his side when he’d first found him.

He had been so distracted that he had not noticed, the tiny kid limping through the hallways until he knocked right into him. The kid let out the most pitiful sob and held his leg, biting his lip to prevent any other sound. When he looked up at Jason he had tears in his eyes.

“Shit, I’m so sorry.” Jason said. The kid looked like he was six. He was so small. Surely he could not be a high school student. Jason held out his hand to help the kid up. “Is your leg alright?” The kid nodded but Jason saw that he wasn’t putting any pressure on it.  “Here I can help you.” He hoisted the kid up gently so that he was leaning against him with Jason’s arm under his. “Are your parents outside?”

“Uh, yes,” the kid said. He didn’t sound very certain but Jason couldn’t think of reason why he would lie about something like that.

“What did you do to it?” Jason asked as they walked through the hallway like they were participating in a particularly slow three legged race.

“Uh, fell down the stairs,” the kid said, not looking at Jason. Yeah that was definitely a lie. It was one he had heard many times both on the streets and as Robin. He decided to switch the subject, not wanting to make the kid panic. He looked ready to run even with a leg that was clearly hurting him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around the school before. I didn’t think they let six year olds in.”

“I’m nine,” the kid responded with an adorable huff.

“Oh you’re that little genius aren’t you, the one that skipped two grades.” 

“I suppose.”

“Well, I’m Jason.

“I know,” the kid said before flushing deeply, “I mean I’ve seen you before at gallas. My parents knows your dad.”

“Which ones are your parents?”

“Uh the Drakes.”

“Wait our neighbours?”

“I guess.” The kid that Jason now remembered was called Timothy, was still staring at his laces. Timothy just wouldn’t do. He looked more like a Tim or a Timbo. They had reached the school pick up line and Jason could see Bruce’s car.

“Which one is your parents’?” Tim looked like he was trying to stare a hole through the ground.

“Um, I was actually just going to take the bus.”

“Well that won’t do,” Jason gently pulled Tim over to Bruce.

“You really don’t have to…”

“Nope. You’re coming with us.” Jason opened the back door for Tim. “This is Tim. We’re stealing him.” Bruce shifted in his seat to look at Tim.

“Do your parents know this?”

“Uh, they’re not at home.”

“Whose looking after you?” Bruce asked, his voice dropping slightly as he shifted into interrogation mode. Tim cowered in the back seat. Jason glared at Bruce.

“I can look after myself.”

“I’m sure you can Timbo but we have video games and Alfred’s cooking at my house.”

“Timbo?” Tim asked, oddly familiar blue eyes wide.

“Much better than Timothy.” Tim shuddered.

“Only my parents call me that.” He didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic about that.

“Did you have a good day at school Tim?” Bruce asked from the front seat.

“It was fine sir.”

“You can call me Bruce, Tim. No need for sir.” Bruce slid out of the school drop off.

“He’s injured,” Jason said.

“No I’m fine I just twisted my leg at school.”

“You said you fell down the stairs.”

“We can get Alfred to have a look at it. He has army medical training.”

“I wouldn’t want to bother him.”

“Alfie loves being bothered. That’s why he sticks around Bruce.” Tim glanced warily between Bruce and Jason like he was expecting Bruce to yell. Bruce simply grunted. Yep, Jason was keeping him. There was just something about the kid. It seemed so familiar. Bruce pulled the car up the driveway and Jason opened the door and helped Tim out. He looked up at the manor almost wistfully.

Dick was waiting at the front door and hurried up to him.

“Any luck finding Robin?” Jason asked at once. Dick shoot his head despondently.

“I’ve checked everywhere.” He looked from Jason to Tim. “Hey you brought Tim.”

“You know him?” Jason said surprised. Tim was blushing furiously.

“Yeah he was the kid that threw up everywhere at Margaret Dounce’s galla.”

“I’m really sorry about that.”

“Are you kidding? It was the best part of the galla. I was bored to tears.”

“Um, who’s Robin?” Dick’s excited expression drooped.

“He’s our dog but he’s gone missing.”

“Oh,” Tim said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Not like it’s your fault,” Dick said, pulling a slight smile back onto his face. “Come in. Alfred has been stress baking all afternoon so we have a lot of food.” Bruce, Dick, Jason and Tim all headed inside. They sat around the kitchen table with a large plate of cookies between them. Tim hesitantly reached to take one before clutching it tight not unlike Jason had seen street kids do when he gave them food. He kept his eyes on Bruce as he ate, taking quick, little bites.

“So, what do you do for fun Tim. I’ve never seen you outside of one of Bruce’s gallas.” Dick asked, pushing the cookies closer to him. Tim seemed to blush at everything Dick said.

“Uh, I like photography.” Dick, Jason and Bruce all exchanged the same look.

“Photography, that’s cool,” Dick said, “what type?”

“Nighttime photography mostly,” Tim mumbled.

“And you said you hurt yourself recently.” Tim nodded slowly.

“Alfred can look at that now,” Bruce said. “I just need to have a quick word with Jason.”

“I’ll come with you,” Dick bounded to his feet and led Tim over to the medical wing they used for minor injuries that didn’t need the more advanced section in the Batcave.  

Jason stayed behind. He had a pretty good feeling he knew what Bruce was going to say. Unless he was very much wrong, they had found their Concerned Citizen.

A drawing of boy Tim

Chapter Text

Tim couldn’t believe he was back here. Mr Pennyworth, please call me Alfred, had unravelled his makeshift splint and was rewrapping it more securely. He lay on a clean, white double bed in an equally clean and white room. It looked like any other bedroom in the manor except without any decorations and extra storage space from which Mr Pennyworth had pulled bandages.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go to hospital for this,” he said. There was something knowing about his look. “It’s certainly broken though the other is just sprained.” Tim nodded. His parents wouldn’t be pleased if he had to go to the galla on crutches or with a boot.

“Ouch that’s not fun,” Dick said, ruffling his hair, “How have you been walking on it all day?” Tim started leaning into Dick’s hand before remembering that he wasn’t Robin anymore. He was just the neighbour that Jason took pity on.

“Doesn’t hurt that much.” Tim said softly, wondering what Mr Wayne and Jason were talking about. He hoped Mr Wayne was not telling him off for bringing Tim back to the house.

“Hey aren’t your parents supposed to be overseas in Egypt or somewhere? They were talking about it at the last galla.”

“They just came back,” Tim said. He recognised this line of questioning. “My nanny has been looking after me while they’re away.”

“You’re a little underweight,” Mr Pennyworth pointed out gently. Tim fiddled with a loose thread on the sheet he was lying on.

“I just forget to eat sometimes.”

“We’ll just have to feed you up then. Alfred’s making lasagne tonight and it is to die for.” Tim’s stomach sunk.

“I need to get home for dinner.”

“Can’t you just ask your parents if you can have a sleepover?” Tim had pulled the thread enough to form a small hole in the sheet.

“They wouldn’t let me. I’m supposed to be grounded.”

“That’s a shame,” Dick said, sounding surprisingly sincere, “we’ll just have to invite you another time.”

Jason bounded into the room with Bruce following. “Hey Timbo, want to play some Mario Kart? If you play, I might be able to beat someone for once.” His stomach had not just sunk, it had fully disappeared leaving him empty.

“I really should be getting home.”

“You should be getting to hospital.” Mr Pennyworth said, finishing up with the bandages.

“My parents can take me,” Jason opened his mouth as if to say something but Bruce interrupted.

“We can take you home.”

“But…” Jason cut in but was silenced by a look. Tim hopped off the bed, leaning on Dick’s arm.

“You don’t need to carry me,” he protested but Dick was already sweeping him up into his arms. “Nope, no walking for you.”

Dick carried him all the way to the car. He waved Bruce away when he went to sit in the driver’s seat. Jason hopped into the back.

Once more Tim was moving away from Wayne Manor. He felt the distance like a physical wound. If he begged Dick to turn the car around, would he? Dick continued to carry him all the way to Drake Manor while Jason carried his school backpack. Tim learnt over to unlock the door with his own key.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Tim pointed up the stairs and Dick carried him up with ease. Jason paused for a second at the door surveying the locks on the outside.

“I used to sleepwalk,” Tim hurried to explain, “I just put them there so I didn’t walk out and fall down the stairs or something.”

“Fall down the stairs a lot as a kid?” Dick asked in what was probably meant to be a casual way.

“No.” Tim crossed if arms which would have come off better if he wasn’t being princess carried. Dick lay him down on his bedspread which Tim realised was Robin themed. Jason’s eyes surveyed the room and Tim knew he was taking note of the Robin and Nightwing figurines, posters and even the Batman lava lamp. He blushed, hiding his face in his hands.

“Quite a fan, aren’t you.” Jason grinned. He knocked shoulders with Dick.

“Who’s your favourite?”

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“Come on you must have a favourite.”

“Robin,” Tim muttered at last not looking at either of them, “the second one. But I like all of them,” he hurried to insist. Jason whooped.

“Yeah Nightwing’s lame.”

“No,” Tim insisted, “I like Nightwing. It’s just the second Robin is sort of my Robin.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jason sat down on the bed next to him.

“I just…” Tim stuttered, “I was too young to see the first Robin. He could do really cool tricks and things but the second Robin, you could tell he really cared. Not just about taking down the criminals. He buys food for the street kids and there was the time last week when he beat up the pimp that had been threatening Ruby. Batman doesn’t really bother with that stuff. He stops the Joker and bank robberies. Robin sees that there’s more than that.” Tim clamped his mouth shut. His mother hated when he yapped on.

There was silence.

Tim peered up through his bangs at Jason. “Uh, I’m quite tired. I might want to take a nap.”

“Ok,” Jason said, clearing his throat, “yeah we’ll leave you to it.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Dick said. They closed Tim’s bedroom door behind him. He was left lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. Dick’s passing words repeated in a loop in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, he really meant it. Maybe Tim didn’t need to be Robin to be part of the family. He turned over and shoved his face into the pillow. Who was he kidding? Why would anyone ever want him?

Chapter Text

Tim was interrupted the next day at school by Jason. He was just about to find another quiet spot in the library when Jason pulled him over to the canteen instead. He took out his lunch that included two sandwiches and two more of the biscuits Mr Pennyworth had given Tim yesterday. Jason pushed the second sandwich and biscuit at him and Tim stared down at it confused.

“Alfred made extra,” Jason said and started to tear into his own sandwich like that explained everything.

“Why are you giving it to me?” Jason cocked his head to the side.

“I wanted to have lunch with you.”

“Why?” Jason put down his sandwich.

“Why not? You seem a lot cooler than a lot of the other kids here and you have good taste in vigilantes.”

“You think I’m cool?” Tim’s eyes widened. Robin thought he was cool. Robin. The coolest person in the world.

“You’re very cool.” Tim happily bit into the sandwich Jason had given him. It was ham and cheese with a bread that tasted homemade. Not that Tim had ever tasted homemade bread except maybe as part of a galla platter.

“I notice that you don’t have a crutch with you.” Jason pointed out. Tim was very interested in the sandwich.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Tim, Alfred said it was broken. You can’t get much worse than that.”

“I will go,” Tim assured him, “I just…the Westcott’s are having a galla tonight and I can’t exactly turn up with crutches.”

“I don’t understand,” Jason learnt back in the flimsy plastic canteen chairs, “is being injured out a fashion or something?”

“No,” Tim said patiently, “but people will ask questions and it will be a distraction from my parents. This could be a chance for them to secure more funding for their digs.”

“Can’t you just stay home then?”

“People would ask questions about that too. I’m supposed to take over Drake Industries from my parents. I need to be there.”

“The way I see it,” Jason said slowly, “people are going to ask questions no matter what. Why not just let them? Bruce is always getting asked questions about us and he’s still standing.”

“Well he’s old money,” Tim explained, nibbling around the cookie, “he can afford to be a bit more eccentric and still be secure with his place on the ladder. My parents are new money. It’s more volatile. One scandal and they could lose a lot of their funding.”

“A scandal like, I don’t know, sending their kid to a galla with a broken leg rather than taking him to the hospital.” Tim shrunk away from Jason.

“They don’t know about that.”

“Okay, okay,” Jason made placating gestures, “it’s none of my business. We can talk about something else.”

“Are you doing Jane Austen in class?” Tim prompted seeing Pride and Prejudice laying on the table beside him. He remembered Robin talking animatedly about her work on patrol and it seemed like a safe enough topic.

“Nah. We’re doing some modern fantasy book that’s so boring. It’s not realistic at all. Like why would the one who’s supposed to solve everything be a kid? Why not chose like an ex-soldier with twenty years battle experience or a master strategist or something? What good can one kid do?”

“Robin’s just a kid but he’s a hero too.”

“Yeah but Robin just does the little stuff you know. No one expecting him to save the world. That reminds me,” Jason sobered up, pulling a stack of papers from his bag. On it was a picture of Tim as a dog. He didn’t even remember the photo being taken but there he was clutched in Jason’s arms. On top of the picture was the word MISSING in large red letters and below a phone number and promise of a reward. He passed the poster to Tim. “Dick and I are putting them up everywhere. We’re hoping someone has seen him.”

Tim held the poster awkwardly in his hand. He was struck by a strong desire to tell Jason the truth but surely that would just make things worse. Jason wanted his dog back not a boy pretending to be a dog.

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Tim promised. Jason grinned a little sadly. The bell rung above them signalling the end of lunch.

“Do you need a lift home today?” Jason said, swinging his backpack over his shoulder and picking up his copy of Pride and Prejudice. Tim shook his head.

“My parents are picking me up so we can get ready for the galla.”

“I’ll have to see you there then. I’m sure Bruce was invited.”

“I thought you hated the gallas.” Tim scooped up his own backpack and checked his timetable. It was maths next.

“Yeah,” Jason said, “but I can’t leave you alone there. With a face like yours, you’ll be overtaken by old ladies trying to force feed you stale sweets. I can hold them off.” The thought made Tim smile more widely than was galla appropriate.

“Ok,” he said, “I’ll see you there.” Tim hurried off with a final wave not wanting to be late for class. His maths teacher Mr Stanwick was annoyingly observant and always called Tim out when he slipped in after the bell had rung.

He doodled pictures of Batarangs throughout class, not really listening to what the teacher was saying. None of the maths was particularly hard. It was just annoying having to do the same worksheets for weeks at a time before they moved onto the next topic. A guilty part of Tim couldn’t wait for his parents to leave so he could go back to his usual system. He used to beg them to stay whenever they went on another trip but he had long since got used to their absences.

The Westcott’s were not unlike Jack and Janet. They weren’t as new having inherited most of their fortune from Mary Westcott’s father but they were still no where near as rich as the Wayne’s. That didn’t stop them from trying to imitate him though. At the last galla, they had organised a tower of champagne glasses that was “two tiers taller than the one at Bruce’s New Yeas party.” It was Mary Westcott who had cornered Jason and Dick at the dog park. Tim really hoped she was joking about getting her own kid like Bruce did. He shuddered to think what that kid’s life would be like.

At least he wouldn’t have to face them alone. He’d have Jason by his side and with a little luck, his parents would fly off to some other country after the galla and he could go back to how things were supposed to be.

Chapter Text

Jason pulled at the tie that already felt too tight around his neck. The suit jacket was uncomfortably stiff in the shoulders and the shoes’ leather had no give.

“You don’t have to come with me.” Bruce was preening himself in the mirror, artfully messing up his suit and hair.

“And miss you making a fool of yourself, no way.”

“Hmm,” Bruce said thoughtfully, “I wonder how high their champagne tower will be this time.” Jason noticed the most subtle smile curl at the edge of his lips. “It would certainly be unfortunate if it fell over.”

“Especially over Jack and Janet Drake,” Jason muttered thinking of Tim. The kid had clearly been trying not to limp away after lunch. He wanted to wrap the small kid up in a blanket. “You don’t think they could have taken Robin? They live next door and I wouldn’t put it past them to do anything to gain your favour. They could pretend to find him and give me back.”

“I doubt they could do that without turning up on any of the exterior cameras but I don’t know.”

Dick entered in a bright blue suit and spun around. “I’m ready.” Bruce loosened Jason’s tie and smoothed down his suit. He patted Dick on the back.

“Well then, let’s go.”

***

They arrived just in time to be fashionably late. Jason watched Bruce relax into his Bruice persona, sweeping through the Westcott’s double front door and towards the champagne tower that was indeed there. He gripped women’s hands as he past and laughed openly at the men’s jokes. His presence parted the crowds like Moses with the red sea. Jason rolled his eyes.

He looked away from Bruce to the rest of the large foyer with all its white pillars and chandeliers. The woman clustered together in dresses each trying to be more memorable than the last while the men wore identical black suits and spoke of business and golf. Jason tried not to grimace at the sight.

He peered past old ladies with too many necklaces and too much perfume, looking for a tuft of soft black hair and wide, blue eyes. Dick poked him and jerked his head towards a woman standing stiffly with an undrunk glass of champagne. She had long painted nails digging into a kid standing just as straight at her side. There was no sign that the kid had a broken leg. There was a no sign that the kid was a kid. He was dressed flawlessly in shiny shoes and shinier hair. A perfectly polite smile rested on his face under eyes that lacked all emotion.

Jason and Dick sidled up to him.

“Hey Tim.” Janet’s cold eyes made Jason’s skin prickle.

“I wasn’t aware you knew our Timothy,” she said, her voice smooth, each word articulated. It was every bit the posh Bristol accent.

“We met at school, mother,” Tim said, still with that creepily pasted smile.

“Oh how delightful,” Janet said tonelessly. Her grip tightened on Tim. Jason tried to meet his eyes but it was as if he was a robot. Janet turned directly away from Dick and Jason and dragged Tim off. Jason saw her push him towards another group. Some old lady pinched his cheeks and Janet let out a airy laugh.

“She seems like a delight.” Dick said, eyes narrowed.

Dick and Jason spent the galla trying to get Tim alone but he seemed to be glued to his mother’s side. She shoved him at every guest, letting them ruffle his hair and call him “such a young gentlemen.” Tim kept the same smile throughout and there was not even a slight limp in his step. Jason saw Jack Drake getting steadily more drunk with the other men. He did not spare a glance for his son.

At one point Bruce joined them.

“There must be something we can do,” Jason said, “she’s using him as a show pony.”

“The Drake’s are powerful. We’d need a strong case.”

“If he’s CC, he’s out every night right there with criminals and rogues. That’s got to be neglect at least.”

“I’ll find something.” Bruce promised, his Brucie persona dropped to give way to complete sincerity.

“You going to adopt him too?” Dick joked lightly.

“Someone’s got to look out for him.” A woman with bright red lipstick slid up to Bruce, batting her eyelashes shamelessly. Bruce gave one last comforting look at Jason before he transformed once more into Brucie and let himself be led off.

With a word to Dick, Jason ducked away from the crowds looking for a break. He found the bathroom and went inside. Splashing water in his face, he examined his reflection in the mirror. In his fancy suit he looked far from the kid he’d been as little as a year and a half ago. He had gained a healthy weight, his cheekbones no longer sunken and his hair was smooth and clean.

Seeing Janet reminded him of his own mother. When she was alive, his mother had not been perfect. There had been many nights when she was too high to do much more than stare at a spot in the distance while Jason had to scrounge up something for dinner with an increasingly small pool of cash, terrified that each time he left the house would be the last time he saw her. Other nights she would hold him and talk about how much she loved him. The Drakes could afford to get anything they wanted, do anything they wanted. With that much money, his mother could have moved out of Crime Alley. She might have found something more to live for. He hated gallas. The bathroom door open and Jason spun around.

“Oh, sorry,” It was Tim. He was much too pale. As soon as he was inside the bathroom, he clutched the sink, putting his whole body weight on it. Though his hands shook, he still had the energy to direct the first full two thousand watt smile at Jason. “I’m glad you came.”

“I’ve barely got to talk to you.” Tim’s smile dimed and he stared down at his feet.

“I’m sorry that my mum was so rude to you.”

“Hey,” Jason lifted Tim’s chin up so he was looking in his eyes, “you never have to apologise for her. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

“I’m ok,” Tim practically whispered.

“We could just stay here for the rest of the galla.”

“My parents wouldn’t like that.”

“Just for a few minutes then.”

“Ok.”

They stood together. Jason asked a few casual questions but at Tim’s one word responses settled for just standing silently next to him. Tim’s eyes kept fluttering shut. Jason checked his watch and saw that it was past ten. He was so tempted to steal Tim away and tuck him into bed.

Dick flung the bathroom door open, jerking Tim out of his sleepy state.

“Bruce said it’s time to head home. Oh hey Tim.”

“I better go back to my parents.” Tim said reluctantly. He waved at Dick and Jason before ducking away back into the crowd. Dick shrugged sadly. Stifling a yawn, Jason followed after Tim and went to find Bruce. He was standing by the entrance with two lipstick smears on his collar.

“Gross,” Jason said as soon as he saw them.

“Ready to go?” Bruce said ignoring Jason’s comment.

“Yeah let’s get out of here.” Dick, Jason and Bruce headed out to the car. Jason glanced back at Westcott manor thinking of the small boy still inside. For some reason when he pictured the scene, it wasn’t just Tim. Next to him was a little dog with black fluffy hair and pain filled eyes. He hated to think of them both all alone. There had to be a way for him to get them away from this and cover them in so many hugs and blankets that they never had to worry about anything ever again. It didn’t matter what the law said or how much evidence he had, Jason wound find a way to bring them home.

Chapter Text

“We are going to speak at home.” Those words coming from his mother’s lips made Tim’s blood run cold. He thought he was doing well. He had not mumbled or talked back. Every new person was greeted with a smile and a firm handshake. His dad wandered over somewhat unevenly. Janet glared at him icily.

“You seemed awfully chummy with Bruce’s kids,” he said, slurring his speech. So that was it. He didn’t think his dad had even looked at him. Figures it would be when Jason was talking to him.

“I know them from school, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Janet tutted.

“I spoke with Joe,” Jack said, “he knows a guy that works in the Egyptian government. We might be able to leave sooner than expected.”

“I can’t wait to get out of Gotham,” she tightened her grip painfully on Tim’s shoulder, “nothing good comes out of here.” Janet’s heels clicked on the marble flooring. Both Jack and Janet, dragged him around the room for the final time, shaking hands and wishing the other attendees well.

“Timothy’s feeling a little tired,” Janet laughed at the Westcott’s, “we are going to head back.”

“Of course,” Mrs Westcott cooed, “your boy is so well behaved, Janet. My Johnny never knows how to come to gallas like this. He would eat all the canapés and whine about how bored he was the rest of the night.”

“That’s our Timothhy.” The praise had once made him feel warm but all her could feel now were Janet’s fingernails in his shoulder. His leg was on fire and his eyelids were weighed down by led but as much as he wanted to, his mother would never forgive him if he started crying.  

After what could have been his hundredth handshake that night, Tim sat in the back of his parents’ car. Jack spent the car ride back discussing the prospect of an Egyptian dig and how much money it would take to bribe the necessary men. Janet just sat there, clearly seething about something.

As soon as they were inside Drake Manor and through the entrance hall, Janet rounded on him.

“So is that where you’ve been?”

“What?” Tim instinctively backed away from Janet’s rage.

“You’ve been slumming it with Bruce’s street kids.”

“No!” Tim insisted, “I just know them from school.”

“Is that true?” Jack said, his face flushed from all the alcohol. He pulled a glass from the kitchen cupboard and filled it with more bourbon. “Is this where your new attitude is coming from?”

“And your new clothes. Did you think that when we trusted you to be responsible by yourself, you took that as an open invitation to go off and do whatever you wanted?”

“No. I, I…I thought you liked Mr Wayne. Wouldn’t it be good for me to know their children?” Janet glowered.

“You should know better than this, Timothy. Bruce is old money, he is powerful. It is important to keep good connections with him but that doesn’t mean picking up dirty habits from whatever new charity case he drags in. He’s allowed to be eccentric, we cannot be.” Tim couldn’t stop his mouth.

“Jason and Dick aren’t charity cases and they’re not dirty!” Janet slapped him. His broken leg gave way under the force and he fell. With nothing to stop his trajectory, his head slammed against the kitchen counter and everything went momentarily black. When he next opened his eyes he was on the ground with Janet leaning over him, real fear in her eyes. Tim stared at her. He couldn’t believe it. His mother had hit him. She might pull him a little roughly or dig her nails into him but she had never hit him.

“This didn’t happen,” Janet said. Her usually steady voice was shaking. Confused, Tim tried to get up. That’s when he noticed the blood. It was spilling from a cut at the back of his head and the hand that had tried to break his fall felt oddly tingly. With great trepidation, he lifted his hand. He nearly vomited at the sight. His pinkie finger was bent awkwardly to the side.

“He slipped, he just slipped,” Jack was speaking but Tim could barely hear it. There was a buzzing in his ears. He gripped the counter with his uninjured hand and rose slowly. It was his parents turn to back away from him. They might have called after him but Tim was not listening. Still feeling numb, he ran.

He had to get away. He had to get out of that house. The buzzing was growing louder. He couldn’t do this. He wanted to be somewhere safe. The pain was spreading throughout his whole body. Everything around him seemed to be growing bigger. He kept running. Tim stumbled and it was only then that he realised that his legs had become paws once more. His surroundings had faded to greens and purples, the coppery smell of blood was strong in the air. He didn’t know how long he’d been running for. Tim let his legs lead him, preferring to float in some foggy part of his mind.

The trees around him morphed into mowed patches of grass. There was a light in the distance and he headed for it. It grew bigger and bigger. If he could only make it. He reached a stone pathway and saw a line of yellow coming from under a familiar oak front door. Tim collapsed in front of it. His last thought before he lost consciousness was a certainty that he was, at last, safe.

Chapter Text

It was always exhausting to keep up his Brucie persona. When he was younger it was easier to flirt and pretend to drink the night away but he was growing old. Bruce was ready to lie down and get an early night when the manor’s proximity alarms went off. Instantly alert, he put down the pyjamas he was about to slip into and headed for the front door where the alarm was triggered. He opened it somewhat cautiously and looked out onto the stone driveway dabbled with little puddles of rain from yesterday reflecting Gotham’s smog filled sky. Bruce searched for whatever set off the alarm but there was only still blackness before him. He was about to go back inside when there was a whimper somewhere below him.

Bruce peered down. The first thing he saw was a familiar fluffy black form curled up on the welcome mat. The second thing was the blood. It was hard to tell in the darkness but now Bruce looked closer he could see the fur was clumped together by it, particularly around the head. There was no doubt about who this was. It was Robin.

Bruce feared the worst. Was this a threat? He thought of people being sent fingers in the mail or having a dead rat stapled to their door. Did someone know he was Batman or was it some vendetta against Bruce Wayne? If they had murdered his dog, he might just have to break his no killing rule. Then there was the whimper again and Bruce quickly knelt down to feel for a pulse. It was there, still strong, thudding against Robin’s little rib cage. Touching Robin’s fur made Bruce realise how cold he felt like he’d been out in the night much longer than the proximity alarm suggested. He examined the tiny dog, taking note that his splint and bandages were gone and there was a substantial bump on the back of his head still oozing blood. Bruce gently scooped the dog into his arms.

He called out for Alfred, closing the front door behind him. Alfred appeared from the kitchen and, upon seeing what was in Bruce’s arms, rushed over. They hurried to the medical ward and Bruce lay Robin down on the bed. Alfred moved him around gently examining and wrapping his wounds.

Likely awoken by the noise, Jason peered his head into the room. Seeing Robin, he let out a delighted shout of “Robin” and ran over to the bed. He stroked the pup’s ears. “What’s wrong with him?”

“It appears his leg injuries have been exacerbated without proper care and a bone in his front paw is broken.” Alfred turned the pup over gently. “The worst is a cut at the back of his head. I believe it was caused by blunt force trauma.” There was a deep sadness in Alfred’s expression as he looked down at the little unconscious animal. Jason stared up at Bruce the same way he did as Robin, expecting Batman to deliver vengeance on the worst of humanity. Bruce seethed. If he ever found out who did this, he would bring them hell.

“The good news is that I don’t believe he will need the vet. I have stitched up the head wound and there’s nothing that can be done for the broken bones but keep them secure and keep Robin rested.”

“He won’t leave my sight,” Jason insisted, “I won’t let anyone touch him.”

“I’ll found out who did this.” Bruce said firmly.

“I believe the most important thing is to be there for Robin.” Alfred said, “He is likely exhausted from running all the way here and the blood loss.”

“I want to stay with him.”

I can carry your mattress in.” Bruce said.

It took a few minutes to organise but soon the room was set up with both mattresses lying side by side. Jason snuggled down under his doona, his eyes set on Robin. The small pup was covered in bandages on his paws and around his head. Bruce flicked off the room’s light and closed the door.

At least he was here now in the manor. Bruce went upstairs and peered into Dick’s bedroom. He saw Dick fast asleep, his expression relaxed. Seeing him content, Bruce was finally able to head up to his own bedroom. All his kids were safe and he’d do anything to keep it that way.

Chapter Text

Tim woke to someone carding fingers through his hair. He opened his eyes blearily to see Jason lying next to him. It took a second for the memories to come back. Tim should have shrunk away but he didn’t. He wanted to feel safe, for someone to stroke his hair and act like they loved him. His parents couldn’t give him that but Robin could and he was not letting this chance go again. It might be selfish but Tim wanted so badly to be selfish. He didn’t want to think about his mother hitting him. Tim could just be a dog

“Hey baby bird,” Jason said. Tim nuzzled into him.

“Bruce told me who you found,” Dick bounced into the room in a set of pyjamas covered in colourful cartoons of animals doing gymnastics. He crouched down and pet what little of Tim’s body didn’t have bandages on it. Tim wanted to just be held but all his limbs were tied up. It was frankly ridiculous, His injuries weren’t that bad.

“Do we know who did this?” Dick asked, still stroking through Tim’s hair.

“No,” Jason said bitterly, “but I have a theory.” Tim looked up at him, curious.

“Who?” Dick moved closer to both of them.

“I think it was the Drakes. They came back from their trip the same time Robin disappeared. They clearly will do anything to stay at the top the ladder and you saw how they treated Tim.” Jason ticked each point off with his fingers. “I reckon they stole Robin and planned to keep him hidden for a few weeks before pretending to find him. They would use Bruce’s gratitude to fund their next archaeology gig or something, thinking he wouldn’t see through them but Robin escaped and ran back here.”

Tim stared at Jason. Huh. Not far off. It was sometimes easy to forget that Robin was a detective too. Of course he made his parents sound worse than they really were. His parents weren’t really that bad. Not to mention that they’d never stoop so low to steal their neighbour’s dog. If they wanted to blackmail someone, they would just hire someone to do it for them.

“I wouldn’t put it past them,” Dick growled.

“Bruce is going to make me go to school, isn’t he?” Jason groaned. “I don’t want to leave him.”

“Tim will be at school though,” Dick pointed out, “I hope he’s ok. He looked so different at the galla last night than he did when he came home from school.”

Feeling awkward listening to Dick and Jason took about him, it took a second for just what Dick had said to sink in. Oh shit.

“Look, I’ll keep an eye on Robin today.” Dick said, “You can check on Tim.” Shit, shit, shit. Alfred’s voice came from outside called both boys to breakfast. Jason hesitated over Tim. Dick stood up and went to the door. “I’ll bring you guys breakfast.”

He came back a few minutes later with a plater of buttered toast and a little plate he put in front of Tim. It was divided into three sections. One contained what looked like yogurt with some blueberries in it, one had small pieces of toast and the other two boiled eggs. He stared at it. Everything smelled delicious and he wolfed it down.

“That looks much better than dog food.” Jason pointed out.

Dick shrugged. “Alfred said he thought Robin needed a more varied diet to get better.” Tim didn’t care about the reasoning. The bread was fresh, the butter just slightly salty and the eggs still gooey in the middle. It was almost enough to make him forget his encroaching dilemma.

“You should invite Tim back here after school.”

“Or I could just kidnap him.”

“Even better.”

Dick and Jason took turn leaving the room to get changed. The whole time, Tim thought. If he stayed here, Jason would worry about him at school. He might call Bruce if he didn’t turn up to school and he might call Tim’s parents. It wouldn’t look good if someone looked into his life. He knew that there were a lot of adults who would take an issue with how his parents left him even though he was independent and could look after himself. On the other hand, if he went to school, Dick would think Robin had been stolen again. He might suspect the Drakes and look into them anyway. Distractedly, Tim was aware of Jason kissing him goodbye.

“I’ll see you as soon as I get home. You’ll get to meet Tim. I’m sure you’ll like him. He kind of reminds me of you.”

“Yeah they’re both tiny.” Tim pouted. He was not that small. Dick waved Jason off and pulled out a laptop. The screen showed what looked like crime reports. He saw Tim looking and laughed.

“It’s my homework,” Dick said pointing at the screen, “I can’t keep an eye on you from the police station in Bludhaven.” A shoot of guilt went through time. Was he stopping Nightwing from patrolling? He never wanted that when he ran away. How many people had been mugged or criminals gotten free because of him. How much time would he take off if he thought the human Tim was missing? He needed to get to school to stop that but he couldn’t leave without Dick seeing. Tim was so caught up in his own head he didn’t notice Alfred come in.

“Master Dick, sorry to interrupt your work.”

“No, it’s all good Alfie.”

“I’m here for the Little Master. I’m afraid he needs to go for a checkup.”

“I can come too,” Dick said making to get up.

“No need,” Alfred said quickly, “you keep working. It might take a while.”

“If you’re sure. I promised Jason I’d keep an eye on him.”

“I won’t let him out of my sight,” Alfred promised.

“That ok with you buddy?” Tim almost nodded before remembering that he was a dog. He settled for bumping his head against Dick’s knee hoping it conveyed the same thing. Tim contented himself to be carefully carried by Alfred to a car he hadn’t seen yet. It was more modest than the flashy cars Bruce used or Dick’s brightly coloured one. He spent a while napping on the passenger seat. It wasn’t until fifteen minutes had passed that Tim realised they were going out of Bristol. Tim knew Gotham. Alfed was going in the direction of Crime Alley. He sat up and tried to look out the window. Noticing his movement, Alfred shifted to look at him.

“Don’t worry,” he said in his smooth British accent, “we’re going to Leslie’s clinic. I thought you might be most comfortable there as you’ve been before.” Tim definitely would prefer Mrs Thompkins than a vet but it didn’t make sense why Mr Pennyworth would think that unless…

“I won’t tell them,” Alfred said before Tim could start to panic, “I suspected ever since I saw that your injuries matched Robin’s when you came home from school. Bruce was convinced he was going mad when your phone disappeared from the Batcave. I didn’t know for certain though until I saw you transform outside of the kitchen window. Now as much as I think you should tell Master Bruce the truth, for your ease of mind more than his, I will keep your secret. I will insist that you get proper medical treatment though, Master Tim.”

Tim couldn’t believe it. Mr Pennyworth knew and he wasn’t going to tell Bruce. He had been lying to everyone and Mr Pennyworth was acting like it didn’t matter. As if reading his mind, Mr Pennyworth added, “and that you call me Alfred.”

He parked the car outside Leslie’s clinic and opened the door for Tim. Looking up at Alfred’s lined face, all smile lines, he made his decision. Tim thought as hard as he could, “I want to be human, I want to be human, I want to be…” One second he was a dog and the next Tim was stumbling, fully human into Alfred’s arms. He did it. He really did it. Not by accident this time but purposely changed. Alfred steadied him and reached out to inspect his broken finger. He wasn’t even phased by the transformation.

“This will need a splint. I hope you’re right handed.”

“I am,” Tim croaked, before clearing his throat, “thank you for not telling Mr Wayne.”

“I’m sure he would insist on being Bruce as well,” Alfred said, “and you don’t need to be scared of him. No matter what people whisper about, Batman doesn’t hate Metas. If you told him the truth, I’m positive that the only thing he would do is apologise for making you eat dog food for two days.”

“I’m not a…” Tim started before realising the other half of the sentence, “I promise I won’t tell anyone about Batman. Please don’t get Jason in trouble for bringing me back to the cave. He didn’t know.”

“No one will get in trouble.” Alfred said while leading Tim up to Mrs Thompkin’s door. “Besides it wouldn’t surprise me if you already knew a little more than you should before that what with following them around on rooftops.” Tim blushed scarlet.

“I, I, I.” He could only splutter.

“Master Bruce is already aware that you and the Concerned Citizen are the same,” Alfred said, “as are Master Dick and Jason. They are not angry or upset, they are likely only worried that a child has been spending so many of his nights out in the most dangerous part of the city.”

“Is that why, why they invited me over yesterday?”

“No,” Alfred said firmly, “Master Jason invited you over because he wanted to. He only realised afterwards.” Tim nodded barely able to comprehend all this new information. Alfred smiled and knocked primly on Leslie’s door.

“Don’t fret. For now just focus on getting better. Afterwards we can go back the manor. I’m sure you need plenty of sleep.” Leslie opened the door and beckoned them in without bashing an eyelash. Before Tim stepped in, he quickly turned to Alfred, finger’s crossed in his pocket. He had been so nice about everything, maybe he would do this too.

“Actually,” Tim asked softly, “after this…can you take me to school?”

Chapter Text

Jason waited in the canteen, looking desperately around for Tim. He was about to storm Drake Manor and demand to know where Tim was when he saw the crowds part to give way to someone on a pair of crutches.

“Tim!” Jason rushed forward, “Your family finally took you to the doctors. About time.” He opened his arms for a hug but quickly dropped them when he saw the bandage on Tim’s hand and the other one around his head.

“What happened!” He demanded. “You look like you had a fight with bandages and lost.”

“I fell,” Tim said.

“You fell?”

“I’m not lying. My leg gave out and I fell and wacked my head on the kitchen counter so my parents took me to the hospital.” He seemed to be telling the truth but Jason suspected it wasn’t the whole truth either.

“Well come on then, let’s sit down.” Jason beckoned Tim over to his favourite bench. “You can help me with my maths. Augh, I hate trigonometry.”

“I’m a grade below you.”

“No excuse, boy genius. If you help me, I’ll tell you embarrassing stories about Dick so you can blackmail him.” Tim hesitated for a moment.

“Deal.”

They settled down together, Jason’s book spread across the table. Whenever Tim was distracted with a maths question, Jason slid more food towards him. That kid was too small.

“And that’s how Dick ended up covered in chocolate before the entire board meeting,” Tim covered his mouth, “it gets worse. This was right after Bruce adopted him so no one in the room knew who Dick was. One of the board members turned around and asked if Bruce knew why this kid had just burst in and he played dumb and said he had no idea.” Tim bursts in squeals of laughter. When he was laughing, he didn’t look like a mini adult, he just looked like a kid.

“Did you know the first time I met Dick?” Tim said a little more tentatively.

“Yeah he said you were throwing up all over the galla.”

“Actually that was the second time I met him.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, the first time I was only three. My parents took me to the circus. I got to go backstage and meet Dick.” Tim was bouncing his seat, his hands flapping in excitement.

“Wait…” Jason said, gleefully, “you’re a fan. I didn’t know Dick still had fans.” Tim blushed. It was so easy to make him do that. “Oh Dick is going to get such an ego over this. If you really want it, I can get a poster for him to sign.” Jason joked. Tim looked up eagerly.

“Really?” Okay, now it was Jason’s life purpose to show how uncool Dick was.

“Yep if you come around this afternoon, you can get him to sign something in person.”

“I’d love to,” Tim said. Well, that was easier than Jason thought it would be. Spurned on by this response, Jason added, “you should stay the night as well.” Jason couldn’t quite read the expression on Tim’s face.

“I can’t. I have…uh…something to do.” Not wanting to push too hard, Jason focused back on his maths. He would get Tim to stay someway or another.

***

At the end of the day Jason sought out Tim again. He grabbed up Tim’s backpack when he came out on his crutches. Together they walked to Bruce waiting in the car. He looked relieved to see Tim but Jason could tell he was also cataloguing all the new injuries. They got in the back and Jason continued his challenge of making Dick seem thoroughly uncool.

“And that was the third chandelier he broke.”

“The fourth actually,” Bruce interjected into the story, “after that we just stopped getting new ones.” They were passing the Drake Manor at this point and Jason peered out at it through the window. There were no lights on inside and no car in the driveway. Jason had mixed opinions. On one hand, if the Drakes had left that would make it easier to steal Tim away, one the other hand it would make it harder for Jason to slash their tires. Actually they could just buy new tires. He would have to think of something extra good. Jason saw that Tim was looking in the same direction.

“Uh,” he asked softly, “can be stop here just for a second. I want to get something.”

“Sure thing,” Bruce pulled up to the house and Tim hurried inside. Jason kept looking for any signs that the Drakes were home but the house seemed well and truly deserted. Tim came back a few minutes later and jumped into the car, clutching something in his hand.

As they drove away, Tim shifted in his seat. Jason maneoved his body so Tim could rest his head against Jason’s shoulder. He really was like a little puppy sometimes. Jason couldn’t wait to introduce him to Robin.

Chapter Text

At 3:30, Dick heard Bruce’s car wheels grind on the driveway outside. He slammed his laptop closed, glad to have an excuse to stop doing paperwork. Dick had hoped to spend more of the day playing with Robin but Alfred was yet to return from their vet appointment. He had assured Dick that Robin was fine but there were a few more things that needed to be sorted.

When Dick opened the door he was delighted to see that it was not just Jason home but Tim too. He was standing a little behind Jason, wringing his hands and not looking at Dick. Dick knew he could get a bit too enthusiastic and hoped he hadn’t scared the poor kid away. Alfred’s brownies should fix that. They fixed everything.

Bruce left talking about some work he had and Dick grabbed the brownies while Tim and Jason convened in the lounge room.

“Where’s Robin?” Jason asked, snagging a brownie from the plate in Dick’s hand.

“He’s just at the vet with Alfred.” Jason’s eyebrows furrowed.

“I thought Alfred said that Robin didn’t need the vet.”

“I don’t know. He must have changed his mind.”

They sat down on the couch together. Tim couldn’t sit still and kept glancing at Dick. He wondered what he had done that was making Tim seem so nervous. Jason nudged him.

“Tim wants to ask you something.” Tim was chewing his lip.

“Can I have your autograph?” He said in one breath. Dick’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t expecting this. No one had asked for his autograph since he left the circus. Tim reached into his pocket and pulled out what was definitely an authentic Flying Grayson poster. It was clearly well cared for though it was now a faded red rather than the bright fire truck colour it once would have been. On it was a somewhat cartoonish painting of his parents posed on each other’s shoulders with Dick standing at the top in one tower. They were all smiling widely in their red, blue and yellow costumes. Dick’s eyes watered slightly at the sight. He had so few relics left from the circus.

“Where did you get this?”

“You gave it to me,” Tim pulled something else out of his pocket and showed it to Dick. He saw his parents with Dick standing between them, his arms wrapped around a tiny kid who couldn’t have been older than three.

“I remember you,” Dick said, his voice choking up. “I told my parents I wanted a little brother after I met you. That was the night…”

Jason’s teasing smile dropped as he realised what Dick was saying. He looked at Tim.

“You saw that?” Tim nodded. Dick pulled him into a hug. “Thank you for showing me this.” He drew out a pen from his back pocket and signed the poster with a flourish before handing it back to Tim. Holding it like it was the most precious thing in the world, Tim threw himself at Dick for another hug.

“Ok enough of that,” Jason said, “I think I said last time that I needed someone to beat in Mario Kart.” Reluctantly, Dick detangled himself from Tim.

“Get the game started up. I bet Tim will kick your ass.”

“That’s another dollar.”

“For ass? I swear it used to be 50 cents. Inflation is getting crazy.”

“It’s $2 now.”

“Ugh, just start the game.”

After the fifth round where Tim did indeed beat Jason, Tim’s phone chimed.

“I’ve got to get home,” Tim said.

“Already?” Jason protested, “Is it your parents?”

“Oh no. They caught a plane out of Gotham last night. It’s just my…nanny.”

“Okay,” Jason sighed, “but tomorrow we’re playing monopoly together.”

“Don’t play monopoly with him,” Dick insisted. “He’s just sore you beat him.”

“I’ve never played monopoly,” Tim said.

“We’ve got to change that.”

Tim stood up. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

A few minutes after Tim left, Alfred returned home with Robin. The puppy seemed happier. His tag wagged enthusiastically as Jason and Dick greeted him. They went outside and played a modified game of catch where Dick rolled a tennis ball towards Robin which he would nudge back with his nose. Dick decided that they’d work their way up to fetch when Robin got better.

Bruce came out while they were playing. “The results just came in,” he said as way of greeting.

“For what?” Jason asked, rolling the ball a little to the left of Tim but still within reach without him having to move his legs.

“The powder from the Scarecrow warehouse.” Robin perked up at Bruce’s voice, cocking his head to the side.

“Well what is it?”

“From what I can tell. It acts sort of like a defibrillator for the whole body. It sends a powerful shock to the system, enough to unlock any dormant meta genes.” Robin’s eyes widened.

“What use would Scarecrow have for something like that?”

“Hard to say exactly. The side effect could be accidental. If its used on someone without the meta gene, the shock could be too much. It could cause them to lose consciousness or even for their heart to stop. Or he could be working with someone like Poison Ivy or Killer Croc.”

“For Scarecrow it seems kind of tame. I think it would be wicked if I woke up with new superpowers.”

“Depends on what kind of superpowers.” Dick interjected.  

“Scarecrow’s funds have been severely reduced. There’s still an black market for Metas. He could be trying to sell them or use their powers for himself.” Bruce pet Robin behind the ears, thoughtfully. “Regardless, I want you both to keep a look out for any new metahumans. We’ve got to know who’s supplying the powder and don’t forget your gas masks.”

“We know,” Dick and Jason said together

“Oh and dinner’s ready.” Bruce added.

“Right you are,” Dick picked up Robin. He could explain Nightwing being out in Gotham to investigate this new case. It had been too long since he had gone out on patrol.

Chapter Text

Tim knew that Jason was getting a little concerned about Robin. There were only so many times, Alfred could pretend to take him to the vet all day. It had been two days since Alfred had taken him to Leslie and though he kept reassuring him that no one would mind the truth, Tim did not want anything to change. He spent his mornings and nights cuddled and fed. At Wayne Manor there was never that cold that seemed to have permanently leached into him at Drake Manor. He didn’t have to keep eating the same microwaved meals by himself or spend hours staring at his ceiling and wishing he could talk to someone.

It didn’t stop at Wayne Manor. Jason joined him everyday for lunch. He seemed to really care what Tim said, never interrupting or getting annoyed when Tim spoke too fast or for too long. Every afternoon, he would invite Tim back to the manor and though Tim declined, it made him just want to burst. He had never known that it was possibly to be this happy.

His leg was much better too, perhaps a little too much better. Tim had done some reading and it turned out that bones healed faster for puppies. He didn’t quite know how that translated to a half-dog-human whatever he was. Well, a meta. He was a meta. Tim hadn’t initially believed it when he heard what that powder at Scarecrow’s warehouse really was but it did explain some things. He found it easier and easier to transition from dog to human and there really wasn’t a scientific explanation for that. Science didn’t really apply to metas though. His sprained ankle was basically healed and he might be able to go off the crutches in a week. Tim didn’t want to think about his hand.

The best thing about his injuries improving was a particular hobby that had been neglected for the past week. Batman, Robin and Nightwing had been going out on patrol every night searching for Scarecrow’s drug shipment, leaving Tim behind. If only he had his camera. Tim didn’t have any photos of all three of them. This was a golden opportunity that was being annoyingly missed by a couple of broken bones. But now…Alfred might not approve but he couldn’t exactly stop him. Today was Saturday. Jason, Dick and Bruce would head out a little early and stay longer giving him more time to catch a bus to Crime Alley and back without anyone noticing him missing.

He spent the day as Robin humming with excitement. Tim could barely sit still throughout a breakfast of fruit and porridge. Noticing his restlessness, Jason took him outside where he spent his time pretending to rush around while actually double checking where all the exterior cameras were.

His stupid puppy body demanded a nap afterwards and he only gave in since he might actually need the energy later. Jason liked to read out loud like he saw parents doing for their children in movies. He wasn’t a child and from Jason’s perspective he wasn’t even human but the sound always made him relax.

At long last the sun began to sink outside the window and Tim knew it was time. Jason, Dick and Bruce left down into the Batcave, promising Alfred that they’d be safe. He took that as an opportunity to wriggle out a window and transform back into Tim. It wasn’t a long walk to Drake Manor but it did make him realise that maybe he wasn’t as healed as he thought. No matter, he was here now. Tim grabbed his bike from the shed and rode to the nearest bus stop into the heart of Gotham. From there it was just a matter of exchanging enough cash for the bus driver to ask no questions about the kid going alone at night into Crime Alley.

He had taken his emergency backpack from his house as well and slung it securely around him. Tim might be favouring his left foot and right hand a little more than the others but he got up a familiar fire escape without much difficulty. He doubted Batman would have changed his patrol routes since this thing started so Tim bounded between rooftops to the top of an apartment block that overlooked a common passing point for Batman and Robin. Sure enough, after fifteen minutes huddled in the darkness, he saw Robin’s bright costume bound into his view followed shortly by Nightwing and Batman. They were each silhouetted by the moonlight. It would have made an amazing shot.

He followed them discreetly. Without a grappling hook he was not as fast as them but he didn’t keep stopping to catch muggers so it all evened out. If he ever lost sight of them, he simply went further along the patrol route until he found them again. The three worked so well together that Tim thought it was a shame Nightwing spent so much time in Bludhaven. His flashier tricks provided a good distraction for Batman to sneak up on criminals while Jason stopped any possible escape routes. He saw them stop a man from attacking a woman outside a nightclub and question another dealing drugs to a boy who definitely couldn’t be much older than Tim.

All the time, the Bats kept scouting around, likely looking for signs of any new metas. Tim doubted that, if there were some, they’d just be walking around on the streets. If he had the drug he would take people off the streets and lock them up somewhere to administer it. Batman and Robin should be searching for abandoned buildings or cellars with unusual amounts of protection. Scarecrow’s thugs might have been incompletely incompetent but after destroying a stack of the supply in the warehouse, even Scarecrow would be smart enough to upgrade.

Maybe he could help Batman. There were a lot of places a dog could squeeze into.

As he was passing the old theatre in the centre of Crime Alley he remembered that there was something else he had come here to do. Tim took his eyes off Batman and carefully climbed down on the street.

“Hey Ruby!” Tim greeted happily.

“Little!” A woman with blonde curls, skintight leather pants and a sheer corset that showed red lingerie underneath hurried up to Tim and threw her arms around him. “You just disappeared. No one knew where you were.” Tim grimaced at the nickname.

“Why does everyone keep calling me little?”

“Because you are,” another woman in all black the same colour as her short bob and knee length boots approached them.

“Hey Mel. I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“Was it your parents?” Mel scanned him from head to toe, noticing the bandages around his hand, leg and head.

“Uh, they didn’t break my leg. I fell off a roof.”

“And your hand?”

“It was an accident.” Ruby let out a string of curse words that would have made Jason proud.

“You know I’d let you stay with me in a heartbeat if I thought it was safer.” Ruby said sadly.

“No, it’s ok,” Tim promised them, “I don’t live at home anymore. I live with my neighbours.”

“And they’re still letting you out here?” Tim scuffed his boot. “You didn’t tell them.” It wasn’t a question.

“I wanted to see you again and…”

“Stalk Batman,” Mel and Ruby said together.

“I’m surprised to see you without your camera.” Mel pointed out, “I thought it was basically attached to you at this point.”

“It broke when I fell.”

“Sorry Little, I know how much you cared about it.”

“Yeah,” Tim looked past Mel and Ruby, “hey where’s Marley?’

Mel and Ruby exchanged a look. “We don’t know,” Ruby said, her whole body somewhat shrinking into herself. Tim only noticed now that there was a deep weariness behind all her makeup. It was how Ruby had looked while being harassed by her last pimp, a sad acceptance that nothing would get better.

“She hasn’t been here in three days now,” Mel explained, “she took in a new client and the next day she was just gone. We’ve looked everywhere. We even went to the police but you know them. They don’t listen to us.”

“Did she say her client’s name?” Tim asked, his heart constricting into a painful ball in his chest.

“Just that he looked like he paid well.”

“What about the others? Sara, Lizzie, Scarlet? Have any of them heard anything?”

“They don’t know anything, just that…”

“Lizzie knows a girl, Sunny. She went missing about the same time.

“I should have come here sooner.” Guilt twisted inside of him. If he was out as CC, he might have caught something.

“No beat yourself up Little,” Mel said.

“Yeah, the streets are dangerous. Theres nothing any of us can do about that.”

“I can tell Robin,” Tim said, “he’d believe you.” He knew Mel and Ruby doubted it would change anything. It wasn’t the first time someone had targeted Crime Alley’s working girls. “I can help,” Tim put as much conviction in his voice as possible, “I’ll find them.”

“Don’t put yourself in danger.” Ruby hugged him again, stroking his hair out of his eyes. “We want you to be safe too.” They didn’t discuss the other girls after that. Tim pulled out some granola bars to share and they talked about everything else Tim had missed. Kat’s clothes business had been doing well enough for her to change to only working Fridays and Nathan had finally proposed to Jamie. Tim was ashamed that he hadn’t thought much about the girls with everything else going on. It was really nice to see them again.

He'd met Ruby a year ago after she caught him hiding behind a dumpster after nearly getting mugged. She had helped him and in exchange Tim had helped get her pimp arrested, taking photos that had been vital evidence in the trial. He’d met Mel and Marley later. They had taught him how to throw a punch and to always carry something that could cut through rope. He would find Marley. It wasn’t just him and a camera anymore. He had the Batcomputer and his new powers. Tim could truly become Robin, not just the dog but the superhero.

Noticing how late it had become, Tim said goodbye to the girls. It wouldn’t end well if Jason or Dick came home and saw Robin was gone. Besides he might want to get a few actual hours of sleep. He had a lot of research to do tomorrow.

Chapter Text

When creating his plan to follow the Bats on patrol, there was one thing he had forgotten. Nothing got past Alfred.

“No,” Alfred said when Tim opened his mouth, one foot still out of Jason’s window, “I don’t want to hear your excuses.”

“I…” Tim paled. Alfed crouches beside him and helped him through the window.

“I’m not mad,” he said in a softer voice, “but you need to realise that what you did tonight was very dangerous.”

“Jason’s not much older than me and you don’t stop him.”

“No but Jason doesn’t go out alone without telling anyone and certainly not when he’s injured. You left the house without any way of contacting us. Anything could have happened to you and we wouldn’t know.” Tim hung his head. “Follow me.” Alfred led Tim past the bedrooms and down to the entrance to the Batcave. He moved the clock’s hand and pushed it open. Tim walked through it, his mouth open. He had been down here before as Robin but there was so much that was missed when you weren’t much taller than the ground.

There was an almost unworldly beauty about the combination of high tech weaponry and computers against the cave’s rough walls and high ceiling dotted with stalactites. Everything was bathed in a soft blue light and the air was filled with the sounds of rushing water and the rustle of a hundred bat wings.

Alfred led Tim past the computer to a wall covered in tiny gadgets. He chose two things from the wall and held them out to Tim.

“This one,” Alfred said pointing to what looked like a basic black watch with a leather strap, “is a panic button. Simply press the watch’s dial twice and it will send a signal to me and Master Bruce. I don’t care how much you think you can handle it, you will use it. I’d rather be called on a false alarm than be left wondering. Understand?” Tim nodded dumbfounded. “This one,” Alfred pointed at another that Tim recognised as a comm. It had a sleek design that would be barely noticeable when placing in the ear. “As you might have guessed, this is a comm. It links directly into all of ours. You double press it to turn it on.” Both items were placed in Tim’s hands. Tim stared at Alfred.

“You’re not going to tell me to stop.”

“If I did, would you?” Alfred asked.

“No,” Tim replied at once.

“It is as I feared. I was not able to stop Master Bruce or Dick or Jason. I would tell you to stop until you are healed and have some basic training at least but I won’t lock you in a room.” Alfred placed his hands on either of Tim’s shoulders. He wasn’t usually very affectionate like Dick or Jason so Tim stood up straighter, holding Alfred’s eye contact. “Just be safe.” Alfred said.

“I will,” Tim promised. He put both items into his pockets, knowing he wouldn’t go anywhere without them.

“That’s all I ask,” Alfred said, “Now let’s you get you to bed before Master Bruce comes back. Oh, one last thing.” Alfred went to another workbench and grabbed a final item. “This is another panic button.” He said, “It should attach to Robin’s collar. I’ve been meaning to give it to you. You can activate it by either biting down on it or crushing it.” Tears welled up in Tim’s eyes.

“Thank you,” he managed to say. No one had ever given him anything so considerate. The watch in his pocket was nothing like the Rolex he got for his fifth birthday. Before he could stop himself, Tim flung his arms around Alfred. “Thank you, thank you.” Alfred patted his head, a little awkwardly.

“You’re welcome Tim.”

Wiping his eyes hurriedly, Tim rushed upstairs with a final thank you. He stashed all the items except for Robin’s panic button under his dog bed and transformed. The panic button was magnetic and attached easily to his collar. The magnet was strong enough that it wouldn’t fall off easily but Tim could pull it on and off without thumbs.

He lay on the dog bed, listening for the sounds of Jason coming back. His thoughts drifted to Marley and Summer. He hoped they still somewhere out there, that they weren’t dead or horribly injured. Tim knew all sorts of horror stories about what happened behind closed doors. Alfred was right. He wouldn’t be able to stop Tim. It was easier to forget when he parents came back that he wasn’t alone. Ruby, Mel and Marley may not be family but they had helped him without asking for anything in return. Now he had Alfred too.

Maybe he would tell Jason, Dick and Mr Wayne the truth. Not yet, he couldn’t quite risk it yet but maybe, just maybe, he would soon.

Chapter Text

It had been three days and there was no sign of Scarecrow’s new drug. If only Bruce hadn’t stopped him from venturing further into the warehouse. He’s poured over the photos CC had taken. All the goons in them had been identified but none of them had been seen since in Crime Alley. It was a shame he couldn’t just ask Tim but that would be somewhat compromising question. “Hey Tim, just wondering if you’ve been around any warehouses recently. It’s not because I’m Robin or anything, I’m just curious.”

Tim did seem to be getting more comfortable with them. He still wouldn’t stay over at night but he had stopped calling Bruce, Mr Wayne and no longer sat between Dick and Jason like he was supposed to be seen and not heard.

They would need to bring up CC at some point. Jason hated the idea that Tim might have spent over a year in the most dangerous part of Gotham without anyone realising. At least they wouldn’t need to worry about that now, not with Tim’s the leg the way it was. Still, he would keep an eye out on patrol.

It was Sunday evening now and he was getting ready for heading out. He kissed Robin on his head and ventured into the Batcave, pulling his costume off its hanger and slinging it on. Dick was already ready as Nightwing, bouncing up and down and stretching like he was waiting for a starting gun to go off. Bruce joined them a little later, downing the last few drops of coffee from a mug with the line “I’m not saying I’m Batman but have you ever seen us in the same room together?” on it.

“Set to go?” He asked.

“Just waiting on you old man.” Bruce grunted. He opened the driver’s seat door and slid in. Jason went to sit in the front but Dick jumped in front of him.

“Eldest goes in the front, that’s just basic etiquette.”

“But I always go in the front, I’m the sidekick.”

“And I’m still older.”

“Dad…” Jason whined.

“The ride is only ten minutes, does it really matter?” Bruce asked wearily.

“Yes.” Dick and Jason insisted.

“Ugh, Dick you can sit in the front for going there. Jason you can have it going back.” Dick whooped.

Grumbling, Jason climbed into the back. The Batmobile roared out of the cave and out into Gotham’s darkening skyline.

“I’ve been monitoring for any signs of a meta black market or fight ring,” Bruce said as he drove. “None of my sources have seen anything.”

“And still no signs of the thugs from CC’s photos?”

“No,” Bruce said, swerving around a corner, “Scarecrow’s not the forgiving type. With how much product they destroyed, I doubt we will see any of them again.” He parked the Batmobile on a discreet street corner and pressed a button that caused all the doors to swing open. “Do you have your comms on.”

“This is not our first patrol.” Jason said, fitting the comm into his ear.

“You can never be too careful,” Bruce’s gravelling Batman voice could now be heard directly in Jason’s ear. He held up his grappling hook and swung onto the nearest rooftop. Dick and Jason followed with Dick doing an extra flip when he landed.

“Show off,” Jason muttered.

They bounded across the roof tops together.

“We’re going to head towards the warehouse,” Bruce said, “we can start there and spread out.”

Jason rogered that and swung onto the next roof. He thought he might have seen some movement out of the corner of his eye but when he checked over his shoulder there was nothing. It took around ten minutes to get to the warehouse. Dick, Jason and Bruce spread out.

Jason was the first to entire the warehouse and was disappointed but not surprised to see that it was still empty. Just to be cautious, he pulled his gas mask on. Walking around the whole perimeter of the warehouse didn’t take long. He spoke to Bruce and Dick, checking to see if they’d found anything but there was nothing. There wasn’t even a dusting of white powder left on the ceiling.

They branched out further to the neighbouring warehouses but it was just as disappointing. Jason felt like they weren’t getting any closer. They might well have been shooting in the dark or more realistically throwing Batarangs in the dark.

It was infuriating.

They spent the whole night, searching every warehouse and abandoned building around the dock. There were plenty of drugs and weapons but not the kind of white powder they were looking for. At last, Bruce admitted defeat for now and that was BRUCE. He wouldn’t call something a defeat even if he was chained to a basement floor in nothing but his underwear.

Waiting was the worst part of all of this. Nothing appeared to be wrong in Crime Alley, or more wrong than usual but there was an underlining feeling like the whole city was holding its breath. Something was coming and they had no clue what it was or where everything was going to go down.

Chapter Text

Tim made sure he had his emergency button and Bats comm before slipping through Jason’s window. He couldn’t promise Alfred he’d stay in the manor and just sit idly while Marley was missing. It was nice having someone that would notice if he didn’t return.

He brought his phone for, though the camera was barely better than if Tim took out a sketchbook and tried to draw what he’d seen, it was better than nothing. Without having to pay for food, he would be able to afford a new camera in only a couple months. He could get one sooner by selling some old clothes or books his parents wouldn’t notice were missing.

Tim made it to Drake Manor and retrieved his bike. He rode down the same route as yesterday, taking the bus and ending up on top of an apartment building in Crime Alley. It was an unusually bright evening. The moon was full, hanging low in a sky devoid of clouds. Everything was so clear that he could just make out a few stars through Gotham’s smog. He put the comm into his ear where it sat snugly.

Tonight he didn’t wait for Batman but instead made it across the rooftops down to Ruby’s street. Between playing with Dick and Jason as Robin, Tim had snuck down to the Batcave. He hid in the corner, watching Bruce login and when he left took the opportunity to rush over to the computer. Clutching some of the files he’d printed out, Tim ran over to where Ruby and Mel were standing.

“Hey Little,” Tim hugged Ruby and Mel, something unclenching in his chest at the sight of them. “What have you got there?” Mel asked, gesturing at the papers in his hand.

“I did some research.” Tim fanned out the papers. Each of them had a picture of a woman on the front. A few were official police reports, others missing posters or online posts. “This is everything I could find. Five woman meet the same profile, working girls that have recently gone missing.” Ruby took the pages from Tim and leafed through them.

“Deedee? Isn’t that Mrs Smithson’s niece?” Mel looked over Ruby’s shoulder.

“I think so. I can see the resemblance. She’s missing?”

“Her friend Lucy posted how she was worried about her. She didn’t come home last night after going home with a new client. Lucy described him as a wealthy looking man in his early forties.”

“That would match Marley’s new client.”

“Look,” Ruby said, “I’m glad you’re looking into this. I will forever be thankful for your help get John arrested but be careful.”

“You too,” Tim said, “maybe…I have money. It might be safer, just for a few weeks…”

“We couldn’t do that Little,” Mel said softly.

“You could stay in my manor. No one’s living there right now.”

“Little…”

“There’s five woman, all missing. That’s just all I’ve found. I don’t think it’s a coincidence.” Ruby stroked Tim’s head.

“No Little, why don’t you tell us about your neighbour? You seem happier.” Tim reluctantly let the subject change. He told them about Bruce and the games he played with Jason and Dick.

“That’s reminds me of me and my sister. We compete over everything. She is such a sore loser,” Mel said fondly.

“My brother was the same. He would always go to the extreme, not just against me but anyone,” Mel smiled a little sadly, “he once wore a mini skirt for three weeks when the school gave me a detention for dress code violation. He wanted to see how short he could get it before he got suspended.” Tim opened his mouth to reply when he heard Jason’s voice through his comm.

 “I’ve searched the whole warehouse, there’s nothing here.” The warehouse. Tim hadn’t been back since he fell off the roof but he should really check it out. It wouldn’t be the first time people had been taken off the streets to be human test subjects for new experimental drugs. The two cases could very well be connected. Jason hadn’t been there that night when it all went down.

“Look I’ve got to go,” Tim said, “but I want you to have this.”

“We can’t…” Ruby started to protest but Tim waved it off.

“I know. It’s just the number to one of my burners. Promise me you’ll call if anything happens.”

“We will,” Mel promised, adding the numbers Tim’s recited into her phone. “See you soon Little.”

“See you Mel, Ruby.” Tim climbed back onto the roof and hurried in the direction of the dock. He stopped a little way off, catching sight of Batman and Robin. They had clearly moved on from the first warehouse and were checking out the other’s nearby. Not wanting to be seen, Tim slipped down onto street level and slunk in the shadows. He entered the warehouse easily, pulling on a mask. Jason had been right. There was nothing in here.

By listening to Jason’s increasing frustration at finding nothing, Tim started drawing a mental map of everywhere the drug wasn’t. The docks were out but all those crates wouldn’t just fit in someone’s basement. Most of the inland warehouses belonged to Black Mask and he would never work with someone as volatile as Scarecrow. That left privately owned property.

Tim climbed onto the tallest roof and scanned the city scape. He needed to narrow it down.

It might be a long shot. Tim pivoted away from the docks and headed a little deeper into the city. If he had just unloaded a large supply of a new drug only for the whole operation to get compromised, he would want to disappear as fast and efficiently as possible. Scarecrow would have no doubt killed the henchmen but they weren’t the only recognisable thing at the warehouse, not the only thing that could be traced.

Tim hopped down onto the street and crept forward another building, all square corrugated iron walls, coated in rust. Jason hadn’t mentioned it on the comms. It was small, hidden in the shadows of the larger warehouses. There were voices inside. He found a hole in the wall near the back, half covered by some chicken wire. The space wasn’t wide enough for him but there was someone who could make it. Tim tucked his phone into his back pocket and transformed. As Robin, he slipped inside the building.

He had only ever photographed people coming out of this building. Inside there were rows and rows of cars. Many of them were missing license plates. As Robin, Tim sniffed around the cars, listening closely to two voices. With improved hearing, he heard that they were discussing prices.

He rounded a corner and saw the two men talking. One of them was well muscled in all black, loose clothes. He had a spattering of facial hair and whenever he spoke, Tim saw that one of his front teeth was chipped. The other Tim recognised as the Rich Leesmith, the fastest and cheapest way to transform your vehicle and who dressed like a typical used cars salesman complete with the greasy hair, combed back against his head. Five months ago Tim had photographed him with Denver Markins and sent it as proof of Markins involved with the drug trade. Markins wasn’t the only high up drug lord that went through here and with luck Scarecrow had found himself with two unmarked black trucks that needed new license plates and come to the closest place to do that.

He peered past the two men and…YES. Tim could have cheered. Behind the two was a recognisable van. It may have been unmarked and have a new license plate but Tim had been doing this long enough to know the importance of detail. He took note of the same scratch under the windscreen and dent on the rear bumper. Changing the license plate was cheaper and easier than selling a van and buying a new one. It might be a stretch but Tim had made riskier gambles.

“Sorry Alfred,” he thought. “I’ll get it back.” Tim carefully unlatched the panic button on his collar. Keeping an eye on the two men, Tim transformed again and open the van’s door as quietly as he could. He reached under the passenger seat and used the panic button’s magnet to attach it to the seat’s underside.

He went to slip the door shut but it wouldn’t quite close. Tim used a little too much force and the door audibly shut with a crunch of metal on metal. The voices close to Tim stopped. In a panic, Tim shifted back down and back away from the car.

“You said we’d be alone.” The man beside Leesmith said.

“We are,” Leesmith said but he stopped taking to the man and turned towards Tim. He retreated further, scanning around for the gap he came through. It was still three rows of cars away. Tim took another step back and knocked into a bucket of paint. It clattered against the concrete ground, spilling black paint everywhere. Leesmith let out an angry shout and Tim bolted. He tore across the ground hearing heavy footsteps behind him. His leg that he had nearly forgotten about became suddenly very memorable. Pushing through the pain, he dodged between car wheels and rushed to where he hoped the exit was. There it was. He was so close. A shadow fell over Tim in a shape of a pudgy fingered hand. He leapt through the hole and did not stop running until he was two streets away. Only then did Tim look behind him and see that he was alone. He breathed out a long sigh and shifted back into Tim.

His heart didn’t stop beating in his ears until he was stretched out on top of roof. Tim pulled out his primary phone and navigated into the new feature he’d installed a few hours ago. Once had the password, it was unnervingly easy to hack into the Batcomputer. He could easily search on his phone for each of the Bats trackers in their emergency buttons. Tim dug deeper until he found a button labelled Little Robin. Come on. He was not that short. He watched the tiny red dot on the screen that showed the emergency button was still in Leesmith’s car lot.

With a couple typed commands, he set up an alert that would tell him if the tracker moved. He’d wait a week. If the dot never moved or simply exchanged hands to a new buyers, he’d steal the emergency button back.

He stifled a yawn. There was no sounds coming from his comm. He better return home quick. Alfred might stall for him but only for so long. He waited at the nearest bus stop that would take him back to Bristol. When he stopped at his station, he retrieved his bike and winced slightly at the ache in his leg. He was nearly back at Wayne Manor before he realised that he had called it home.

Chapter Text

It was two days before the tracker moved. Tim got the alert while he was at school eating lunch with Jason or more accurately eating Jason’s lunch. Alfred had offered to make Tim his own lunches, but it would look suspicious while he still trying to keep the illusion that he went home to Drake Manor each night. Instead Alfred just packed double the food for Jason.

They were once again discussing Jason’s favourite subject “how Dick was actually not cool at all.” Tim could tell that he was also not so subtly advertising Wayne Manor.

“And Dick thought it was a good idea to do it in the lounge room. We still haven’t got the stain off the ceiling,” Jason was saying, “at least none of it got on the furniture. You know the really comfortable furniture that is so much softer than what I saw in Drake Manor.” Very subtle.

Tim was running out of reasons not to stay the night or, what he suspected Jason really wanted, stay there permanently. He wouldn’t have believed it three weeks ago that Robin would want him to live with him but every lunch, Jason kept beckoning him over. Yesterday when Tim had asked whether they were friends, Jason had only stared at him.

“Friends?” He asked making Tim’s stomach plummet before he added, “I thought we had established that we’re brothers. I don’t just invite anyone over. If Bruce doesn’t adopt you, I will.”

“Would that make me your son?”

“Nah I’ll brother-adopt you.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Tim felt obligated to point out.

“I don’t care,” Jason waved Tim off, “you’re my brother.”

After that it was much harder to pretend to leave each night even if he was only just transforming into Robin. 

“The furniture in Drake Manor isn’t that uncomfortable.” Tim said, “It’s just designer. Sometimes you have to sacrifice some comfort for the look.”

“What better look is there than comfortable?” Tim had to concede that point. He had never seen the appeal of making your house basically a museum. He liked how lived in Wayne Manor was with its photographs and overstuffed cushions.

“Yeah, I think…” Tim’s pocket vibrated. Glancing at Jason apologetically he dug it out and looked down at the screen. There was a message for him. LITTLE ROBIN MOVING. He really needed to change his code name. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go.” Tim said, grabbing his backpack and stuffing his books back inside.

“What? We still have fifteen minutes.”

“Yeah, uh, family emergency.”

“Your parents?” Jason asked with that usual scowl on his face whenever they were mentioned.

“No,” Tim didn’t want to think about them, “it’s my nanny. She’s…got in a car accident.”

“Is it bad?” Jason leapt up like he was going to follow Tim.

“Oh no,” Tim hastened to add, backing away, “she’ll be fine. I just need to see her and…bye!” Tim ran off, sending a quick text to Alfred that he had chess club and wouldn’t be coming home with Jason this afternoon. He ducked into a bathroom stall and switched from his school uniform into the all-black change of clothes he kept as a contingency in his backpack. It wasn’t hard to sneak out of the school past the teachers. There was a bus stop nearby that was always running and Tim waited for the bus, his knee bouncing up and down as he stared at the little red dot on his phone screen. It was moving quickly away from the docks and towards the centre of Crime Alley.

Tim flagged down the bus and cursed every time it stopped. When at last it reached Crime Alley, he practically fled off the bus and in pursuit of the blinking red dot on his phone. From the rooftops, he could travel quickly not having to worry about the pothole hidden Gotham streets. On his phone, he saw that the red light had stopped moving just two streets ahead of him.

It felt odd running over rooftops while it was still light outside. He could see everyone on the streets going through with their regular business and even though none of them were looking his way, he could still feel eyes on him. Tim saw what he would have dismissed as just another apartment block up ahead. It was all dark brick with small, barred windows and a fire escape spiralling up the side. He climbed down onto it, ignoring its weary protests and peered down to where his phone indicated the van had stopped.

There it was at the back of the building. Partially hidden in the shadow of the taller buildings surrounding it. It may have a new license plate and a coat of dark green paint, but the tracker didn’t lie. He saw two men step out of it and Tim hurried to angle closer with his phone camera outstretched. If only he had his long lenses. He needed to get closer. Tim lowered himself down the final runs of the fire escape and hit the ground. He snuck up to the van and took pictures of the license plate, keeping a constant eye on the two men. Tim didn’t recognise them but could see that they were well built, and each had a gun in their belt. Something about the first guy’s posture and crew haircut screamed ex-cop. A third man joined them coming out of the apartment building’s backdoor. Now this man was familiar.

Tim had read about his arrest in the papers two months ago for his connection with a poisonous gas leaked into the subway tunnels. It was the exact kind of man who would work with Scarecrow and given the fact that he was here instead of prison, he was a man with connections. The papers had called him Silent Killer which honestly wasn’t very creative, of course he was silent. There were plenty of criminals who used silent weapons, it didn’t make him special. At first glance Tim thought he didn’t look like much. He was dressed in black jeans and a dirty white shirt and was rather pale and lanky but as Tim stared at him, he saw the chemical burns littered across his hands and the darkness in his eyes.  

Tim lifted up his phone camera and took a picture.

He kept taking them, crouched behind the van’s wheels. The Silent Killer whose real name was something like Kozionas, pulled a stack of cash from his back pocket and thumbed through it. He handed four fifty-dollar bills over.

“You’ll get the rest when you return.” Tim got the exchange of cash on camera and close ups on each of their faces. The men didn’t question the amount of money, only stuffed it quickly in their pockets. They must have seen the same cold in Kozionas’ eyes that screamed “If you push me, I will make you hurt and enjoy it.”

Tim had to hasten back to the fire escape as the van’s ignition was turned on. He dashed up a few rungs until he was out of view unless Kozionas looked directly up. Perched on the creaky ladder, he watched the van peel out from behind the apartment building and off into the city. On his phone, the red dot blinked along its path. Tim could try and follow it, but Kozionas did say “when you return” which suggested that this was the base of operations. Instead, Tim set to photographing the apartment building from all sides, taking note of every security camera and any weak spots. Even though the bricks were crumbling, and the fire escape was hanging on by a few rusty screws, the bars over the window were tightly secured. He didn’t want to be caught on the cameras, so he didn’t try and open any of the doors. They looked new, their metal framing about the only thing not covered in rust.

When he came round to the back of the building again, Kozionas was gone. He settled instead to stare at the closed door. His phone buzzed and Tim was momentarily distracted. He scanned the screen and saw a new message from Alfred. It read: Dear Master Tim, I fear you have mistaken me for a fool. I will see you in the pickup lot at 3:30. Do not be late. Below that he had signed off his name.

Tim cursed. This always worked on his parents and when he still had nannies. Well…he had the photographs. They certainly proved that something was going on. He would have liked a picture of whatever those men were meant to return with, but Alfred had promised not to tell Bruce about his secret identity until he was ready. He might trust Alfred, but he knew from experience that an adult’s promises only meant so much or, in the case of his parents, very little.  It wouldn’t be a good idea to test it. 

He had just over forty minutes to get back. As he leapt between rooftops towards the bus stop, he thought about how to tell Batman about all of this. He couldn’t just send the photographs to the police. There wasn’t any proof of a crime except maybe the fact Kozionas was out of prison and since he hadn’t read anything about him newspaper since he got arrested, Tim suspected he was released rather than escaped. It might have involved a lot of money under the table, but he wasn’t technically breaking the law by shiftily handing over money behind an apartment building with bars on the windows. 

With a backdoor into the Batcomputer, he could upload them directly onto the server, but he didn’t really want Batman to know just how much he had access to. There was always slipping it into the Wayne letter box or giving them directly to Alfred, but he didn’t think Alfred would be too pleased with what he had done while he was meant to be in English class. There was another option though, one that bypassed Bruce and Alfred. He just had to get back to school.

Chapter Text

Jason didn’t think he’d ever stop worrying about Tim. He hoped he would never learn to be a better liar. As it stood, Jason could tell that he wasn’t running off to see his nanny, a nanny that Jason was starting to strongly doubt actually existed. Whenever he came home with Jason, he said he was going to text her, but he never saw Tim do it.

Jason just wished he knew what Tim was doing. The most infuriating part about Tim was that while he and the other Wayne's could tell whether the kid was lying, no one else seemed to notice. All the teachers saw was a little genius who was perfectly polite and yet mostly forgettable.

Someone needed to stand beside that kid 24/7 with a fire extinguisher and a heap of bubble wrap. Jason was happily do it but whenever he thought he got closer to Tim, he would make up some excuse about a nanny or a club he wasn’t part of and disappear. Jason was going to get grey hairs at fifteen.

He vaguely scribbled something in his geography workbook until the end of day bell rung. Jason joined the throng of students rushing to get to their lockers. With a sigh of relief, he saw Tim up ahead standing next to Jason’s locker.

“How is your nanny?” Jason asked, putting a healthy dose of scepticism in his words. Tim must have noticed because he looked down at his shoes somewhat abashed.

“Uh, she’s fine. False alarm. She’s good to look after me tonight.”

“Really?” Jason raised his eyebrows, “Why not give her the night off and stay at ours?

“Um…” Tim busied himself with handing Jason his copy of Pride and Prejudice from inside his locker. “

“I’m going to make you stay over eventually.”

“I know but not tonight,”

“Have it your way.” Jason took the book and the rest of his homework from his locker. He slung an arm Tim’s shoulder and manoeuvred both of them through the crowd and out to the car. Jason saw that it was Alfred’s car, not Bruce’s flashier model.

“Hey Alfred,” Jason said, sliding into the front seat while Tim sat in the back. Maybe there was something to Dick’s saying that the oldest got the front seat. He might be willing to work with that as long as Dick wasn’t in the car. “Is Bruce in a meeting?”

“No Master Bruce is waiting at home. I simply thought I should come and pick you up, see how you were.” At those words, he looked pointedly at Tim.

“I’m fine,” Tim insisted.

“Perhaps you’d like to play me in a game chess when we get back,” Alfred suggested innocently, “see if all the skills you’ve been learning in chess club are paying off.”

“You’re in the chess club?” Jason asked. Tim wouldn’t meet any of their eyes.

“No,” he admitted.

“School is very important Master Tim,” Alfred said as he drove away from the school. “As is sleep and giving injuries time to rest and heal. I will not say anymore on this for now and I am thankful that you messaged me even if what you said wasn’t true. In future, I expect the truth no matter how worried it may make me. Understand?”

“Yes,” Tim said softly. Jason wondered what Alfred knew that he didn’t. He was certainly closer to Tim than Jason had thought since Tim actually seemed to be listening to him. Of course, Tim was the perfect child in front of adults, never interrupting them and nodding at all the right times. That being said, Jason had watched him promise a teacher to her face that he was going to get to class earlier in the future only to head straight to the library and not re-emerge until all the morning classes were over and it was lunch time.

They arrived at the manor and like usual Dick was waiting for them and like usual Jason’s first question was “Where is Robin?”

“He was with me,” Alfred said, “I just dropped him off before school to get his final rounds of vaccinations.”

“How many vaccinations does he need?” Jason grumbled, turning to Tim. “I swear every time you get here, Robin’s off somewhere else. I will make sure you meet soon.”

“Maybe I should leave?” Tim said, looking at Alfred.

“It is your decision, Master Tim but I think it better be one you make soon.” The words seemed to hold something deeper to them than Jason could figure out.

“Maybe, uh, maybe I could meet Robin tomorrow?” Tim fiddled with his shirt. Jason realised that he was wearing a black shirt under his school vest rather than the standard white one.

“I mean…if Robin doesn’t have anything on. I’d love you to meet.”

“Tomorrow sounds like an excellent idea,” Alfred said, placing a hand on Tim’s shoulder in a rare display of physical affection. “If I may say so, I believe it is a meeting that is long overdue.”

With those cryptic words, Alfred disappeared inside the house.

Dick dragged Tim after him.

“I’ve got good news and bad news,” he said as they all grouped together on the lounge room couch. “What do you want to hear first?”

“What’s the bad news?” Jason asked,

“Tomorrow is my last day of leave from the force. I’ll have to go back to Bludhaven”

“I thought you said you were going to say the bad news.” Dick shoved Jason.

“Rude.”

“What’s the good news?” Tim interrupted before Dick and Jason devolved into squabbles.

“Ah that’s a surprise. I wasn’t actually supposed to find out, but I overheard Alfred and Bruce talking.”

“It’s not really good news if you won’t tell us what it is.”

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Dick assured them, “I just wanted to make sure you’ve got tomorrow afternoon free. I’m going to pick you up from school so Bruce can set everything up.”

“We’ll be free,” Jason said, “unless you’ve got chess club Tim?”

“You’re part of chess club?” Dick asked.

“No, I already said I’m not.”

“My mistake.” Jason laughed at Tim’s disgruntled expression.

“Hey, can I borrow Tim for a bit?”

“That good with you Tim?”

“Yeah.” As usual, Tim looked positively awestruck to be near Dick. It really wouldn’t do.

“Ok, I’m just going to go upstairs and read for a bit then. Join me when you’re done.” Jason walked past Dick and Tim, up to his bedroom. He dropped his backpack down on the ground and fell onto his bed with his copy of Pride and Prejudice. Though he would never admit it, he was going to miss Dick. He better come down every weekend. Jason flipped the book open and to his surprise several pieces of paper fell out. He picked them up and saw that they weren’t just paper, they were photographs. There was an apartment building with security cameras circled, close ups on three men and of a dark green van. Under one of the people were the words Kozionas “Silent Killer” and the van was labelled with a different license plate than the one depicted. Kozionas. Hadn’t that been the guy who killed a bunch of people in the subway tunnels? And the license plate. That was from the van photographed outside Scarecrow’s warehouse. With an awful feeling of foreboding, Jason turned over to the last photograph. On it, in recognisable handwriting, were the two letters CC.

Forget grey hairs, Tim was going to give him a heart attack.

Chapter Text

As much as Tim wanted to listen to whatever Dick wanted to say, there was another conversation he wanted to avoid. He quickly made his excuses and apologies, assuring Dick he’d be there tomorrow. Tim waved goodbye before slipping into the kitchen and transforming.

Alfred picked him up and carried him back into the lounge room. Not only after, Jason rushed back downstairs, bowling straight into Dick.

“Where’s Tim?” He demanded. Dick shrugged.

“He had to leave but hey, Robin’s just got back.” He showed Jason, Tim who was now curled up in his arms.  

“Uh, I needed to talk to Tim.” Jason said, scratching Robin behind the ears.

“What about? You might be able to still catch him if you leave now.”

“No, I’ll see him at school tomorrow but if he doesn’t turn, I will hunt him down.” Tim had never been more grateful to be a dog.

“He left in quite the hurry,” Dick said, “I thought he might stay for dinner at least.” Bruce came downstairs at that moment.

“Is Tim still here?”

“No, he just left.”

He’ll be there tomorrow.” Alfred said, coming into the room, wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Dinner is ready.”

They all gathered in the dining room where the table was laden down with a basket of bread rolls, lamb cutlets, mashed potato and a green leaf salad. He laid out a special plate for Tim. As Tim couldn’t join in on the conversation, he mostly blocked it out. He was anxious to leave and return to the apartment building he’d photographed today. Alfred seemed to be aware of this as he kept turning to look at Tim, preventing him from slipping off. The part of his mind not in Crime Alley, wondered exactly what Bruce and Dick wanted to talk to him about. They couldn’t have realised the truth over they would be asking a lot more questions of the dog beside their dinner table.

When the table was cleared, he still couldn’t leave. Jason carried him up to his room and played a game of fetch with Dick, rolling a tennis ball around the room for Tim to find. He usually would be overjoyed to be getting so much attention from his heroes but not tonight. Tim kept trying to slag off, retreating to his dog bed and pretending to sleep but Jason and Dick still wouldn’t leave. It was only when Bruce called them down to get ready for patrol that Tim could finally sneak out of Jason’s window with his backpack between his teeth and onto Wayne manor’s well-kept lawn. He shifted back into himself and turned his comm on, slipping it into his ear.  

Half focused on Bruce, Dick and Jason in one ear and the sounds of his own frantic heartbeat in the other, Tim rushed out into the night. He checked his phone and saw that Robin’s tracker had returned to the apartment complex. How long would he need to save up to get his own Batmobile? The bus was much too slow. He listened to Dick and Jason bantering. It seemed that they were heading to some of the underground fighting rinks, Bruce had busted earlier this month.

He jumped off the bus and ran towards the dot on his screen. Tim heard Jason in his ear.

“Hey, you go on guys, I’m just going to check this out.”

Tim scampered over a dumpster and up onto a roof. He prepared to leap onto the neighbouring one when his phone rang. It took a second for Tim to realise it was his burner.

“Hey,”

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Tim froze. That was Mel’s voice.

“What happened?” Tim said, his whole body freezing at the sound of her choked sobs.

“It’s Ruby. She’s gone.”

“What happened? Did you see what happened?” Tim couldn’t move.

“She was talking to a guy. He was pushy, wouldn’t take no for an answer, kept insisting that she get in the car with him. I tried to stop him. I tried…” Mel’s voice broke. Her breaths were becoming increasingly short and gasping, “the man pulled her into the van with him. It was all so fast. I ran up to them, I don’t know what I could have done. There was another man. He came up to me from behind and grabbed me. I went for my pocketknife and just hit anything I could reach, he let go and I ran…I just left her.”

“The van what did it look like?”

“I don’t know. It was a dark green.” Tim was running again. He was barely looking at where his feet were landing.

“Can you tell me anything else?” He panted, crashing into the uneven concrete of another roof but Mel couldn’t speak. All her could hear was her choked gasps through the phone. “I’ll get her back,” Tim promised, “I will.”

“Please save her,” Mel managed to get out, “Please she’s all I have.”

“I will, I will.” Tim reassured her, running and jumping over a wide gap twenty stories in the air. He didn’t spare a look down. The dark air stung coldly against Tim exposed arms. He didn’t slow down.

In his other ear he heard Batman.

“Robin,” he said, “Robin report.” There was no response. “Robin report.”

Tim could see the apartment building up ahead. There! He could see the green van parked outside it. Tim skipped the last few rungs on the fire escape and fell onto the street, grazing his hands when they broke his fall. Wiping the blood on his pants, he rushed up the van and jerked the van’s door handle to the side, almost dislocating his shoulder when he found it locked. Barely stopping to think, searched around and found a twisted piece of metal that had probably been part of the fire escape. Tim picked it up and smashed it against the van’s window causing glass shards to go everywhere.

“Ruby! Ruby!” He cried out. The noise must have alerted someone in the building for in the part of his brain still aware of his surroundings, he heard somewhat muffled shouts. Tim unlocked the door by reaching his hand through the window. He wrenched it open and frantically looked inside. It was empty. There was nothing there but a few pieces of frayed rope on the ground.

The apartment door behind him burst open and Tim instinctively shrunk down into Robin. He dove behind the van’s wheel. The same two men he’d seen earlier today came out and surveyed the broken glass strewn across the street. While they were distracted with the van, Tim slipped past them and through the apartment door. He would get Ruby back. He had made a promise and he wasn’t going to break it.

Chapter Text

 Jason swung through the sky, the cold night air burning in his lungs. There was no better feeling. Beside him Dick, whooped and landed slightly on another rooftop without a sound.

“Have you heard anything from those underground fighting rings since you broke them?” Dick asked into his comm. Bruce’s gruff voice came back.

“Nothing from my informants but we should check. We can search the connecting basement across King Street and those along Welby Drive.”

“Yeah, the only people who call them that still say Park Row,” Jason shot out his grappling hook to the next roof, “but roger that.” He was about to swing across the gap when he saw an apartment block out of the corner of his eye. It was the same one in CC’s photo.

“Go on ahead,” Jason said into his comm, “I’m just going to check something out.”

“Do you require backup?” Bruce asked.

“No, I’m just going to look.” It couldn’t hurt. He would just check if Scarecrow’s van was there. Jason had his hand close to his panic button, ready to alert Bruce but not pressing it. If he did, he would need to explain how he thought to check out the building. The photos proved that Tim knew about their secret identities and he knew how paranoid Bruce was about them. He would send them all home to question Tim and that could mean that he missed this opportunity. All he had to do was claim he had seen the van from across the roof and recognised it despite its new paintjob and license plate. Tim would not need to be involved. At least not yet. Jason was going to have a long conversation with him tomorrow about what exactly small children with broken legs should be doing during school hours.

He landed on the apartment’s roof and peered over the edge. To his disappointment, there was no sign of the green van. Jason lowered himself down onto the fire escape that groaned loudly in protest. He swore softly and braced himself against the build’s brick walls. Securing his grappling hook around the bars in one of the windows, he tried to loosen them but they were on tight. Wincing at every squeak and crunch of metal from the fire escape, he sneaked down the building testing each window.

He reached the final rungs and jumped onto the ground. To his left, he saw the backdoor into the apartment block made of a reinforced steel in dark grey. There was a keypad and two locks on the door, clearly new from their lack of grime that coated everything in Crime Alley after a few weeks.

Jason reached into his belt and pulled out his lock picks. He listened carefully for the sound of anyone inside the building and when there was only the distant sirens and gunshots, he snuck forward. Jason had been unpicking locks since before Bruce had kidnapped him. He nimbly threaded the picks into the door and shifted them around until something clicked. They may be new but they had nothing on some of the locks he’d trained on in the Batcave.

He moved onto the keypad. Blowing some chalk dust onto it, he could see that the number 3,2,7 were most used. Jason had seen this model before. It was a four combination lock which meant that one of the numbers was repeated and he only had three chances before an alarm was set off.

If Tim was right and this building was connected to Scarecrow, there was one four letter word he could try. He typed in 3, 3, 2, 7 that spelt FEAR and waited. The light on the keypad flickered to green and Jason punched the air. This is what happens when you commit too much to the brand. Jason was in.

He grabbed the door handle and heaved it to the side, revealing the inside of the apartment bit by bit. Jason was so concentrated on the door that he almost missed the light footsteps behind him. He spun around at the last second but it was too late. The last thing he saw before a syringe was stabbed into his neck was a dirty white shirt and a pair of hands covered in chemical burns.

***

He woke in a windowless white room barely larger than a public bathroom stall. Jason tried to jump to his feet but whatever had been in the syringe made his limbs lag as if someone had stuffed them full of sand. He peered around, taking note of the water stains on the ceiling and the closed door in front of him. Trying to quash his rising panic, he raised a hand to his face and was relived to find that his domino mask was still on. He was still in his Robin suit but as Jason looked himself over he saw that both his panic button and comm was gone.

Jason stepped forward to examine the room’s door. There was no handle. He slammed his body into it again and again but it did not so much as budge. Batman would come. He always came. His breath quickening, Jason pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear anything. It was quiet and not Crime Alley quiet, Bristol quiet on a Sunday morning.

He would get out. Jason ran and collided his whole body with the door, cursing at the pain in his shoulder at the contact. Bruce would find him. He wouldn’t be stuck here. His dad would come. He would.

Chapter Text

Tim crouched close to the ground. The apartment back door opened into an empty foyer with two worn couches and a receptionist desk with a dead pot plant on it. Most noticeably was a streak of dried blood that split the room in half from the door to an elevator. Tim’s hairs stood on end. The smell of copper and mould was overwhelming.

His sensitive hearing pricked up at the muffled sounds of what might have been fists hitting a wall. He slunk past the elevator to a labelled stairway. Looking up, he saw rows and rows of stairs that spiralled upwards creating a tunnel like effect with a distant square of light at the end. Thinking of Ruby, Tim began to climb.

He poked his head through the second floor entrance and had to flatten himself to the wall as two more men ran out and down towards the van. Tim remained completely still. He watched them until they were out of sight and quietly slipped onto the second floor. Tim peeked his head into each room, taking a note of a communal kitchen with several dirty mugs and one bedroom apartment coated in such a thick layer of dust that Tim suspected he was the first to enter those rooms for years.

The third story was much the same and though Tim strained his ears, he couldn’t hear the muted thumps anymore. Tim’s body ached from climbing so many stairs. As Robin, each step was almost the same height as his body was but he couldn’t risk transforming back. There were cameras everywhere. Tim kept below them, hidden in the shadows. He hoped anyone watching him would mistake him for the rats he could hear scurrying in the walls.

It wasn’t until the fifth floor that Tim heard voices. They were coming from behind a reinforced steel door with the same polished frame and the one outside. He couldn’t hear what they were saying but estimated three or four people. A distraction. That’s what he needed. Tim pressed himself deeper into the shadows and did something he hadn’t done the entire time he had been Robin. He barked. The first sound that came out was nothing more than a high pitched yip but Tim kept going. The voices inside stopped. Tim barked again and again, each louder than the next.

Just as he thought he was going to lose his voice, the door slammed open and he frantically scuttled away from him. Two men poked this heads out and surveyed the stairway. Tim took his opportunity and fled past them, not waiting to see their reaction. He ran onto the floor and almost into another pair of legs. Tim managed to skid to the side at the last second and kept running, following the putrid smell of unwashed skin and, now the door was open, the soft sound of repressed sobs. Before he could reach its source, a hand closed around him and Tim lashed out, biting whatever he could reach. The next second his mouth was filled with the taste of blood and the man let out a scream, dropping him onto his bad back leg.  

Tim limped under a metal cabinet. Through the crack he could see four men. One of them was expensively dressed with a sleek haircuit and another was Kozionas, clutching a bloody hand. The rest of the room had clearly been transformed into a lab. All the walls had been knocked done leaving a wide open space with surgical tables covered in syringes and several thin mattresses onto top of bedframes that had metal handcuffs attached to them. The whole scene made Tim want to throw up but his heart almost stopped when he saw that he had been wrong. There wasn’t four people. On one of the beds was another, a woman chained to the frame and deathly pale. Her chest wasn't moving. From so close to the ground, all Tim could see of her face was a few strands of red curly hair. It was the same shade as Marley's.

Kozionas and the other men in the room were coming closer to his hiding spot, peering under other cabinets. They were blocking his path out of the room. Frantically, Tim turned his gaze to any other ways out. He saw another door. This one wasn’t reinforced steel but rather a fairly worn door with peeling white paint and black sound dampening panels. Someone had moved one of the metal cabinets in front of it that couldn’t have weighed less than four hundred pounds. While there was no way for Tim to move it, he saw that the wall around the door was riddled with water mould. Tim could see loose panel that might just be large enough for him to squeeze though.

He waited until the four other men were looking in another direction before he rushed from out under the cabinet and towards the wall, biting his tongue to stop him whimpering on his bad leg. The men shouted, their heavy footsteps coming after him. Tim saw the wall coming closer and closer. He braced himself for impact, throwing himself at the loose panel and praying that this would work.

Sure enough, the wall gave way under him and Tim fell into the small room behind it. He collapsed onto the ground, panting.

“Robin?” Tim glanced up at the confused voice. His eyes widened as he looked directly into Jason’s. He was sitting against the opposite wall, knees up his chest in his Robin’s costume. They stared at each other, neither of them saying anything else.

Chapter Text

Jason curled against the wall. His dad would come. He always did. Jason wasn’t scared, it was just a little bit of a tight fit in here. Were the walls closing in? Was the room airtight? It seemed to be getting harder to breath. He was fine with the dark, heights were nothings, he could do this.

Outside the room, he thought he might be able to hear raised voices. It was hard to tell. Everything was drowned out by his own heart in his ears. Suddenly, there was a crack of splintering plaster and Jason saw something small and black crash into the room. He must be going mad for there in the room was none other than a familiar puppy.

“Robin?” he said in disbelief. The puppy looked up at him in froze. What happened next made Jason jump up and press back into the wall. He watched the little dog cock his head to the side and transform in a burst of movement. Standing where Robin had just been was Tim. Jason couldn’t even speak. It was Tim who broke the silence with the same question he had just asked.

“Robin?” The word seemed to cause Jason to unfreeze and he rushed forward to the kid who was clearing leaning heavily on his left leg.

“What are you doing here?” Jason hissed, “No don’t answer that. We have to get out of here.”

“There are four men outside,” Tim said, his voice all business. “Does Batman know you’re here?”

“No, I stupidly didn’t…”

“Batman come in, this is CC,” Tim interrupted, pressing at what Jason saw was the same brand of comm the rest of the Bats used. “I have Robin with me. I’m sending the location now.” He raised his hand and pressed twice on the top of his watch. His face was blank, not unlike Jason had seen at Westcott’s galla. Tim took the comm out of his ear and handed it to Jason. At his insistent nod, Jason put it in his own ear and to his great relief heard Bruce’s worried voice.

“Robin report, are you alright?”

“I’m alright,” There was an audible relieved sigh on the other end.

“I’m coming for you,” Bruce said, “wait there. I’m coming.”

“I suspect there are more hostages in the building,” Tim said. Behind him, Jason heard a screech of metal grinding against wood. “I estimate thirty seconds until they get the cabinet away from the door.” Jason looked past Tim at the door.

“You said there was four of them?”

“Yes.” Tim nodded. “I didn’t see closely if they were armed.”

“Get behind me.”

“I can fight.” Tim reached into his back pocket and pulled out a pocketknife, a glint of fire breaking his otherwise calm exterior.

“I’m Robin,” Jason insisted.

“Technically, so am I.” Tim stood beside Jason, knife raised and pointing at the door. In his ear Jason heard Bruce asking him what was happening. He had no time to answer before the door was thrown open. Jason didn’t even make out all their faces before Tim was hitting out with a surprisingly strong right hook straight into Kozionas’ stomach with the butt of the knife. Jason took that as a distraction to strike at the other three men. He didn’t have his grappling hook or any other weapons but he’d always preferred his fists. The men clearly weren’t expecting such a violent reaction or for there to be two kids instead of one. Jason was able to knocked one of them out by shoving his head into the metal cabinet that had previously been in front of the door and kick another several steps back.

“This way!” Tim called at him, ducking under Kozionas’ hands and the syringe he held. Jason picked up a glass beaker from a table beside him and threw it with perfect precision into Kozionas’ head. It bounced off and smashed on the ground. Kozionas fell back, clutching his head. Tim ran past him towards a woman lying unconscious on a bed. He clutched her hand.

“I’ll be back,” he promised.

“What are you doing?” Jason shouted as Tim, regretfully dragged himself away from the womaning and out the door, only to go up the stairs rather than down them. Jason slammed another one of the men against the cabinet and ran after Tim.

He found Tim on the floor above that was blocked by another reinforced door. The little brat hushed him when Jason tried to speak. He held up his pocketknife and twisted out another one of the attachments, threading it into the door lock like he had done it before. Jason couldn’t help but ask.

“How do you know how to pick a lock?”

“My parents sometimes forget to let me out of my room,” Tim dismissed much too casually. The door clicked open and Tim slipped inside, holding it open for Jason. Inside, the room was dark. It took a few seconds for Jason’s eyes to adjust and what he did see was nauseating. There was at least five women in varying states of undress, handcuffed to a metal railing that ran around the whole room. Their eyes were clouded and they didn’t look up when Tim and Jason entered. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Jason saw that behind the girls was a cage. It was even smaller than the room Jason had been kept in, barely large enough to stand upright in. At first Jason thought that it was empty but as his eyes kept adjusting, he saw another woman inside it. He couldn’t tell if she was unconscious or already dead, slumped against the bars.

“Ruby!” Tim cried out and ran to one of the women with blonde, curly hair and dressed in a red corset and leather pants. He held her hand and tried to get the woman to look at him but she seemed to be somewhere else entirely.

“We’ve got to get them out of here,” he said, voice breaking.

“Batman,” Jason said into his comm, “where are you?”

“I’m nearly there, just hold on,” Bruce said. Jason heard footsteps coming up the stair outside and looked around hopefully. Please let it be Bruce. He braced himself. The door flew open and Jason saw a man emerge into the room. It wasn’t Bruce, it wasn’t even Kozionas or one of his men. The man wore a long-sleeved green shirt with a rope tied around the waist. There was straw coming out of the shirt’s fraying sleeves and its collar. On his head was tied a burlap sack with holes cut out of it for the eyes and mouth. It was Scarecrow.

“Hello boys,” Scarecrow smiled, pulling on the long stitches across the mouth hole. His voice was raspy, full of a cold amusement.

“Scarecrow,” Jason tried to smile back with his cocky Robin grin. “I can’t say I like your little set up in here.”

“Oh this is only the start,” Scarecrow took a step forward, “a little experiment.” His hand tightened around a syringe filled with a white mixture, the same colour the powder had been. “I’ve always been against testing on animals,” Scarecrow said, “but I could make an exception for a little birdie.” Jason raised his fists, glancing back at Tim who was still crouching beside one of the woman. Two of the men from earlier came up and stood beside Scarecrow, pushing Jason further into the room. “Any second now, Bruce,” Jason thought.

Chapter Text

Bruce never liked it when he kids were out of sight. He’d never had young children, skipping over that whole phase to being the parent of two teenagers. Sometimes, he wondered what it might be like to have a child that wasn’t so independent, who wouldn’t chafe against his attempts to holds them close. He tried to give them the space they wanted, to watch from afar but he would never truly relax until they were all safe at home.

He watched Robin dart off and tried to resist the urge to rush after him.

“Should we split up?” Dick asked, “I can take Welby Drive.”

“No,. There may be nothing down there but we don’t want to be outmanned if there is.” Together, Dick and Bruce swung across the rooftops towards King Street. They approached the dumpster that Bruce knew concealed an entrance to the underground dog fighting rings he’d busted.

“Robin report,” he said, before heaving the dumpster aside. There was no response. “Robin, report.” He exchanged a look with Bruce.

“Little Wing,” Dick said into his own comm, “we’re about to head in at King Street. Where are you?” Still no response. Bruce swiped on the screen installed in a panel the right sleeve of his Batsuit. He scanned for Jason’s tracker but all he could see was two blinking dots where Bruce and Dick were standing.

Bruce didn’t hesitate. He slammed the dumpster back in place and fired his grappling hook back at direction he’d come from. Bruce should have asked Jason where he was going. Why didn’t he check? Dick leapt after him. In five minutes, they were back at the same spot Jason had split from them. Bruce scanned the neighbouring buildings looking for signs of a fight or some kind of enemy but there was nothing.

“Robin, report,” he said again, already knowing he wasn’t going to get a response.

“We’ll find him,” Dick said. He was looking at the street, no doubt searching for the same yellows and reds. Bruce grappled in the direction, he thought Jason had left. All there was were the same drab apartment blocks. Just when Bruce was about to start crashing into each building to search, his comm crackled to life.

“Batman, this is CC.” It was Tim’s voice, perfectly level and emotionless.

“CC?” Bruce asked, so many how and why’s running through his mind. “Is Robin there?”

“Robin is with me,” Tim confirmed much to Bruce’s relief, “I’m sending the location now.” Sure enough a third dot appeared on Bruce’s screen labelled Not So Little Robin. Bruce saw that it was inside the apartment block directly to his left. He leapt down onto the street beside it, ushing Dick to his side. Outside the apartment, he saw a green van with one window smashed and a reinforced steel door. The sight of such an expensive locking mechanism installed into it made him uneasy.

The feeling only worsened when he found it unlocked. Bruce found himself in a dusty foyer and ran towards a staircase he saw in the corner of the room, Dick close on his heels. In his comm, he heard Tim and Jason talking.

“I estimate thirty seconds until they get the cabinet away from the door.” Tim was saying. Shortly, after he used what was undeniably a door being thrown open and the sounds of fists against flesh. Bruce ran faster. He bypassed the first four floors, hearing nothing inside of them. It wasn’t until the fifth floor that he saw another metal door that had been thrown open. He rushed inside but couldn’t see Jason or Tim. Instead, there were three unconscious men on the floor and a woman secured by handcuffs onto a bed. He didn’t need to check her pulse to see that she was clearly dead.

“Up here,” Dick called out, already climbing up to the next floor. Bruce followed after him, his boots causing plumbs of dust to come off the wooden stairs. He threw himself through the door just in time to see three men looming over Jason who stood there fists raised. The man at the front of the pack was Scarecrow, clutching a syringe in his hand. Bruce grabbed a batarang from his belt and threw it straight at Scarecrow’s hand causing him to drop the syringe with an anguished growl.

“Batman,” he said, “so nice of you to join us.” Dick extended his escrima sticks.

“I can’t say the same.” Dick struck out. It wasn’t much of a fight. None of the men had guns and weren’t especially experienced with combat. Bruce recognised Kozionas whose exclusive use of poison didn’t help him in a fight. While Dick fought the two men, Bruce focused on the Scarecrow. He tied the man’s hands up. Without the upper hand of a chemical smog and a gasmask, the man was taken down easily. When all three men were thoroughly secured under a pile of knots, with Batcuffs on their hands, Bruce turned to Jason and pulled him into a hug.

“You’ve got to stop doing this to me,” he whispered into Jason’s hair, “my heart can’t take it.”

“That’s just because you’re so old,” Jason joked feebly. He pulled out of the hug first and turned around. Bruce saw that the rest of the room was filled with woman, chained to the walls. In front of one of them was Tim, speaking softly to a blonde woman. He didn’t seem to have even noticed that Bruce had arrived. Bruce crouched beside him and turned the kid’s face towards him.

“Batman,” Tim said, “can you fix her?” Bruce looked more closely at the woman. Her eyes were unfocused but she didn’t appear otherwise injured. There was a puncture wound in her neck but it was small, more likely a tranquiliser than whatever experiment drug was in the syringe Scarecrow had been holding when he burst in.

“We’ll take them to Leslie,” Bruce promised, “she has the anti-toxin for Scarecrow’s known drugs and if it’s something new, I can synthesise a new one.”

“And Marley?” Bruce got the feeling that this was the woman chained to the bed downstairs.

“I’m sorry. She didn’t make it.” Tim let out a sob, clutching the woman’s hand tightly. Bruce wished he knew what to do. He’d never managed to handle grief well. It was always about revenge for him but Tim hadn’t even looked at Scarecrow. He just seemed to sink into himself.

Dick appeared at the door. “I found the rest of the drugs upstairs. Most of the powder has been instilled into a liquid but it’s the same stuff from the warehouse.” Bruce nodded.

“Round up all of it. We’ll take it back to the Batcave before anyone else comes.”

He hoped this would be the last surprise of the day. Jason put a hand on his shoulder and gestured at Tim.

“After this, I think we all need to talk.”

Chapter Text

They didn’t end up talking that night. Batman called Commissioner Gordan and alongside Dick, Jason and Tim, they stored the remaining drugs and helped the woman to Leslie’s. She performed a quick blood test and confirmed that the drug in their system was a mixture of fear gas and a strong tranquiliser.  

“They’ll be fine,” Leslie assured Tim after injecting the anti-toxin. “It will take about ten hours for the anti-toxin to flush everything out. I’ll keep them here for tonight and you can come back in the morning.” She turned to the last woman, the one who had been kept in the cage. Bruce stepped forward.

“The test shows the same meta-activating chemical in her system.”

“Yes but she’s stable. It seems she did have the meta gene. We can’t know its effect until she wakes.” Tim knew that Jason was staring at him at those words.  

By the time they got home, Alfred took one look at the four of them and sent them all to bed. Tim shifted awkwardly.

“Uh, I don’t exactly have a…”

“I’ve prepared you a room already Master Tim,” Alfred said. “I’ve put it beside Master Jasons’.”

“Come on,” Jason grabbed Tim’s hand and dragged him upstairs.

“I…” Tim started nervously.

“Don’t do that again,” Jason said. Tim hung his head. “You could’ve gotten hurt.” What? That didn’t sound like Jason was angry at him. He sounded concerned. “We’ll take more in the morning ok?”

“Ok,” Jason ruffled his hair and closed his bedroom door, leaving it slightly ajar. Tim was left standing outside. He turned to the room Alfred had prepared. It was simple. There were fresh blue sheets with a fluffy comforter on top and a pair of checked pyjamas. Tim saw that like in Jason’s room there was an ensuite. He quickly showered, making sure not to wet the band-aids on his scraped knees and palms and pulled the pyjamas on. Tim lay in bed under the covers but he couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking of Marley laying as if asleep in that makeshift lab. The room was too large and too empty.

He silently slipped out of his bed and padded over to Jason’s room. Tim raised his hand hesitantly and knocked. Jason opened the door at once, wearing his own pair of light blue pyjamas. Looking at the ground, Tim scuffed his socks against the carpet.

“I can’t sleep.” He muttered, cheeks burning. As if sensing what Tim was really asking, Jason pulled Tim into his room.

“You can stay with me if you don’t mind sharing a bed.” Jason said before stopping and following Tim’s gaze to Robin’s dog bed. “Do you want…” Jason trailed off.

“If it makes you uncomfortable…”

“No, no, no.” Jason rushed to Tim and lead him to sit down on the bed. “I don’t care about that. It’s kind of a relief to know the truth. It was driving me crazy trying to figure out why you wouldn’t stay over. I’m just really sorry.”

Tim stared at him confused. “Why are you sorry?”

“Well, I did kind of kidnap you.” It was Jason’s turn to shift uncomfortably. “And you had to eat dog food.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“No, I don’t know how everything was for you but I should have realised sooner.” Jason’s eyes widened, “And when Robin disappeared, that was because of your parents and…when you were injured. Alfred said it was blunt force trauma.”

“I thought you would be mad.” Tim said softly, “I could have told you I was really Robin. Even before I realised I could turn back.”

“Why didn’t you?” Jason asked, “Why let us treat you like a pet? You could have been having dinner with us at the table not on the floor.”

“I don’t know,” Tim picked at his nails, “I was still with you. I didn’t have to be alone. You seemed to like Robin.”

“I do,” Jason said, pulling Tim’s hands apart and holding them firmly, “But I like Tim too. And…” Jason said leaning back on his pillows, “it’s a pretty cool power. Think of all the pranks we could pull.” Tim couldn’t hold back a smile. With a final glance at Jason, Tim transformed into Robin and snuggled up beside him. Jason stroked his back with a laugh at how Tim pushed into his hand.

“Goodnight Tim,” he said pulling a blanket over them both. Tim gave a little yip and closed his eyes. He fell asleep almost instantly.

Chapter Text

Dick awoke to sunlight streaming through his window. It was still early morning but after the excitement from last night there was no way he was going back to sleep. He threw his blankets off him and snuck out of his bedroom to see if anyone else was awake. Stretching his arms, Dick peered into Tim’s new room. He saw a bed with neatly pressed sheets that didn’t seem to have been slept in. Dick stepped inside, checking around the door and in the bathroom but there was no signs that Tim had stayed here.

Before panic could settle in, he went up to Jason’s room and knocked lightly. At no response, he pushed the door open and poked his head inside. He saw Jason lying awake on his bed. Upon seeing Dick, he raised a finger to his lips and gestured to a tiny, black fluff fast asleep on his chest. Robin’s tail was tucked around him creating a perfect little ball

“Where’s Tim?” Dick mouthed, no wanting to wake the pup. Jason’s face split into a sly grin, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“He’s not in his room?” He said with faux concern in his voice. Despite their hushed voices, Robin stirred. He gave a huge yawn that was all pink tongue and blearily padded off Jason, stretching his front and back legs. Robin yipped happily at seeing Jason was awake, not noticing Dick. He was about to make himself known when the last thing he expected to happen did. Dick froze, unsure exactly what he was seeing. There on the bed was Tim, sitting exactly where Robin had just been. He was dressed in cute, checked pyjamas that Alfred had undeniably bought him and didn’t seem at all phased about appearing out of nowhere.

“Oh that’s where Tim is,” Jason said gleefully. Tim turned to where Jason was looking and stiffened.

“Tim?” Dick said slowly, “What…?” Tim hurried to get off the bed but Jason put an arm around him stopping him from moving.

“Let’s wait to Bruce is up,” Jason said, “then we can all talk. Alfred already knows, doesn’t he?” He asked Tim.

“For a while.”

“Well I’m glad he did. You would have missed so much of his cooking otherwise.”

“What?” Dick said again, eyes flitting between Tim and Jason.

“Come on,” Jason stood up from the bed, “let’s go down for breakfast.” The three of them headed downstairs to find Bruce and Alfred sitting at the table nursing cups of coffee and tea respectively.  

“Morning boys,” Alfred said, “there will be no school today so no need to rush. I’ve already contacted them.” Jason punched the air and whooped. He grabbed a plate of sausages and dumped two or three on both his plate and Tim’s.  

“Would you like some eggs, Master Tim?” Alfred said. Tim shrugged, picking at his sausages. Alfred sighed. “I think it’s best we talk now. I imagine waiting is the worst part.” Bruce put his coffee aside.

“I believe that’s best. I want to know how both of you ended up in that building.”

“I’m afraid the story starts much before that. Are you up to talking now, Master Tim, I know you’ve been through quite the ordeal?” Tim nodded, staring at his uneaten breakfast.  

“Uh,” he started, glancing at Alfred who dipped his head encouragingly, “it started two Fridays ago. I was um, out in the city and I thought I would check out a warehouse where I’d got a tip that a drug shipment was being unloaded.”

“Don’t think we’re going to skip over how you’ve running around at night in Gotham,” Jason interjected.

“Please refrain from interrupting,” Alfred said. Dick thought he had a point though. He didn’t like imagining Tim jumping between roof tops in Crime Alley, one fall could have killed him. Jason indicated for Tim to keep going and he took a deep breath

"I saw two men bringing in crates and a fight broke out. I was looking through a hole in the ceiling at the powder went everywhere. It went on me.” Bruce perked up, staring intently at Tim. “I sort of tripped off the roof and fell unconscious and when I woke up…” Tim looked between Bruce and Dick, swallowing nervously, “I was a dog.” Dick and Bruce reacted at the same time. Bruce nearly spilt his coffee everywhere and Dick choked on a mouthful of eggs.

“I’m sorry!” Tim immediately said, “I didn’t expect for Jason to take me back here. I know I should have told you much earlier but…” he trailed off, hunching over and continuing to move the food around his plate.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Dick said slowly. Dick turned from Tim to look at Jason. “I knew it!”

“You knew Tim was Robin?” Jason raised his eyebrows in disbelief.

“What? No. How would anyone just guess that? No, I knew it would be you that gave up our secret identity first. You all said that I would give us away but you took Tim back here as Robin. You now owe me ten dollars.” Dick crossed his arms in triumphant. He was fairly sure even Alfred had bet against him.

“Well…” Tim said, “not exactly.” Dicks smile dropped. “I already knew Jason was Robin.”

“How?” Dick said, his unease growing.

“Uh, well when I met you at the circus you said you’d do a very special trick for me.” Tim said all in one breath, “years late I saw Robin do the same trick. Only four people in the world could do it and…”

“Ha!” Jason crowed, “I was right.”

“I think we’re getting away from the point,” Bruce said. He focused on Tim. “So, you transformed and Jason took you back here, what happened next?” Tim laid out the rest of his story. He explained how he first thought he was trapped as a dog before he stole his phone back and found that his parents had returned. Dick felt that there was much he was skipping about the time he had been with his parents. He merely said he’d been upset by his parents leaving early and run back to the manor, accidentally turning back into Robin. At this point Jason interrupted.

“You told me you fell back and hit your head on the kitchen counter. That didn’t really happen did it?” Tim bit his lip.

“I wasn’t lying. I didn’t tell my mum about my leg. She couldn’t know that I would fall over.”

“What did she do?” Jason asked softly.

“She hit me.” Tim finally admitted. Dick’s heart broke at those three words. Tim sounded so small. Dick saw Bruce’s face crumple. Tim didn’t seem to notice. He kept talking, his story growing somehow even worse. He explained how Alfred found out, allowing him to continue living at the manor as Robin When his leg was nowhere near healed, he talked about sneaking out to follow them, placing a tracker in one of Scarecrow’s vans and learning about how working girls in Gotham were disappearing. When he got to last night, Jason took over, letting Tim sit back and poke at his breakfast.

Dick wanted to leap off his seat and draw Tim into a hug but he already looked overwhelmed. At the end of the story, Tim wrung his hands.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

“No, chum,” Bruce said in a very un-Batman voice. “I’m not mad.”

“I’ll never tell anyone you’re identities.”

“I know,” Bruce assured him, “I wouldn’t even be mad if you did. You’re safe, that’s what important.” A tear escaped from Tim’s eyes and Dick couldn’t himself back anymore. He leapt from his chair and drew Tim into a hug.

“I just wanted to stay here,” Tim choked out, “I didn’t want to leave.”

“Don’t think for a second we’ll let you leave,” Jason said firmly, “you’re one of us now.” Bruce’s phone buzzed and he glanced down at it quickly.

“It’s Leslie,” he said, “the women are awake.”

“Can I see them?” Tim said at once.

“Of course,” Bruce said, standing up from his chair, “and Tim,” he added, “Jason’s right. You’re family, we won’t leave you.”

Chapter Text

As soon as Tim entered Leslie’s clinic, he was rushed and pulled into a tight hug.

“Leslie told me what you did.” Tim returned the hug, revelling in the familiar feeling of Ruby’s arms around him.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save Marley.”

“No, Little.” Ruby said, cradling him closer. “You’ve done more than anyone else, more than any kid your age should.” She pulled him away, hands on both his shoulders so she could look him in the eyes. “Thank you, Tim.”

“Are you going to alright?” Tim asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Ruby assured him, “I’m going to take some time off but you can always visit me.”

“Every day.

“And keep out of trouble.”

“No promises.” Ruby lightly shoved him. “You’ll look after him?” Ruby directed this question over Tim’s shoulder to where Dick, Jason and Bruce stood.

“We will,” Bruce said.

“Can’t guarantee that we’ll keep him out of trouble.” Dick added, “But there’s always Alfred.”

“Yeah, he’s not going to let Timmy out of his sight.” Jason agreed. Leslie walked into the room, clutching a clipboard that she handed to Bruce.

“All the woman are cleared. There won’t be any lasting effects.”

“What about Shepherd?”

“What’s wrong with Deedee?” Ruby asked.

“The chemical Scarecrow injected into her activated her meta gene. I’d need to run more tests for a conclusive answer but the last thing she needs now is more tests. From my preliminary analysis, it seems she has accelerated healing. I’ve given her my number. She said she’ll contact me if she encounters any serious side effects.”

“I’ll keep a lookout for her,” Ruby turned to Bruce. “Thank you for not taking us to the hospital. You’re not so bad for a billionaire.”

“I’m just glad I could help.”

They stayed for an hour or so more after that. Tim spent the whole time with Ruby. At last, they said their goodbyes, Tim promising to see again tomorrow. Just before they left, Ruby pulled Bruce aside and said something quietly to him. Bruce nodded seriously.

When they reached the manor, Jason turned to Dick. “What was that good news you were supposed to tell us?” Dick glanced at Bruce.

“Le’s go to the lounge room,” Bruce said, “I’ll get Alfred.” They all sat together with Tim, Jason and Dick on the couch while Bruce and Alfred sat on the other lounge chairs. It was weird seeing Alfred actually sitting.  Tim had the feeling this conversation was going to do with him. Dick, Bruce and Alfred kept looking at him, almost nervously.

“I want to start by saying that you don’t have to say yes,” Bruce said looking at Tim. “I meant what I said about you being family and since you first came here with Jason, I couldn’t help but notice how little supervision you’re getting at home.” Alarm went off in Tim’s mind. He knew what was going to happen next. Bruce was going to ask about his parents and Tim couldn’t lie to Batman. He would probably call CPS and his parents hated having to deal with them. They always let Tim know how much his reckless behaviour cost them when they had to pay off officials. Tim knew that he had it lucky. Staying in an empty house might not be ideal but it was a hell of a lot better than a lot of the stories he’d heard about foster care.  

“I have a nanny.” Tim insisted.

“Tim,” Bruce said gently, “you’ve been spending every single night here for days and I’ve checked your parents bank reports. There’s no nanny.” Tim hung his head.

“Please don’t call CPS.”

“Bruce you’re doing this wrong,” Dick cut in. “what Bruce has been trying to say is that he wants you to join the family officially.”

“Like adoption?” Tim asked confused, “But I have parents.”

“Your parents are assholes.”

“Jason,” Bruce sighed, “not helping. Look, Tim, don’t feel like you need to rush into this but you’re parents aren’t doing enough. They should be providing more than just a house and food and Ruby said they’ve been leaving you alone for a long time.”

“And…” Tim tried to wrap his mind around what Bruce was saying, “You want me.”

“Of course we want you,” Dick said, “you’re already my little brother. This is just putting that on paper.”

“Even though I lied.”

“So what? That just makes you my little brother who sometimes turns into a dog.” Tim turned from Bruce and Dick to Jason and Alfred.

“All of you want this?”

“Master Tim, nothing would make me happier.” Tim couldn’t believe it. His parents always said that no one could want a kid like him. He was too loud, too messy, he talked too much and could never listen to instructions.

“But what about my parents. It would look bad for business if you took me in.”

“They won’t have a business when I’m done with them.” Bruce muttered.

“They’re not that bad.” The well-spoken words came from Tim’s mouth before he could stop them.

“What they did to you was not okay and it was not normal Master Tim.” Alfred usual calm eyes, flashed. “We have enough information to get them put in prison if that’s what you want. Just know that you never have to see them again if you don’t want.” Tim felt like a balloon was being inflated inside of him, full of so many emotions. There was relief, joy, fear and a hundred other emotions Tim couldn’t even start to identity. It was all becoming too much.

“Yes,” Tim managed to get out, “Yes, yes, yes.” He kept saying yes until the balloon seemed to burst and Tim found himself sitting on a much larger looking couch, his tail wagging uncontrollably.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the sight but Jason, Dick and Alfred barely reacted. Jason just scratched him behind his ears, stifling a laugh.

Chapter Text

Tim spent the rest of the week in and out of bed.  Alfed had basically threatened to tie him to it until his leg was healed and Tim was secretly grateful for the break. Dick had gone back to Bludhaven but promised to be back on the weekend and called him every night. After Tim had agreed to live with them, the adoption process barely took any time at all. It was somewhat depressing how quick his parents agreed to sign all parental rights over to Bruce. Tim had chosen not to press charges against them. He didn’t even want to think about them anymore. With Jason cheering him on, Tim had blocked both his parents numbers and deleted their contacts from his phone. Two days later there was a for sale sign in front of Drake Manor.

He visited Ruby and Mel every day with Jason. Ruby had found a new apartment on the better side of Crime Alley and she let Jason and Tim install a security system that rivalled the one in the Batcave. She had started working at Kat’s clothing business that had received an anonymous investor. With their financial backing, Kat bought a store front and hired three new employees. Ruby told Tim that she wasn’t done with working on the streets but that she no longer had to rely on it as her sole income source.

Living with the Waynes officially was…perfect. They never denied him food or locked him in his room. They never hit him and when Tim got a B on his end of term report card, the only thing Bruce said was how proud he was of Tim’s hard work. It wasn’t just what Bruce didn’t do. He tucked Tim into bed and asked him about his day. Alfred made packed lunches for him and bought his snacks when he was studying. Jason was always finding an excuse to drag him away from his work and play with him. Tim had never felt more loved.

The best part about living with the Waynes, however, came two weeks after everything went down. Alfred officially declared him healed and Tim was growing jittery about being inside for so long. It was Saturday and Dick was back in Gotham, talking happily about his last patrol as Nightwing.

“There has been no sign of Scarecrow’s meta drug,” he said, leaning back on the couch, “it seems we’ve rounded up all of the supply.”

“Scarecrow’s still in Arkham,” Bruce added, “we’ve added some extra security measures and I don’t think he’ll get out anytime soon.”

“That’s what you always say,” Jason rolled his eyes and turned to Bruce. “Should we be getting ready for patrol tonight?” Tim sat on the carpet feeling left out. He hadn’t been out as CC for fear of Alfred’s disapproving eyebrows and he missed it.

“Hey,” Tim looked up to Jason who was poking him, “you seem like you’re thinking real hard there.” Tim shrugged, considering whether he could sneak out and join them on patrol tonight. Alfred as always could read his thoughts. He exchanged a meaningful look with Bruce, nodding ever so slightly.

“If you are going to come out with us, you’ll need proper training.” Bruce said to Tim. Tim froze.

“You mean that? I can join you?”

“Would you stay behind if we asked you to?”

“No.” Tim admitted truthfully.

“I can teach you gymnastics,” Dick leapt to offer.

“And I teach you something that’s actually useful,” Jason shoved Dick.

“You hardly need stealth lessons since we never caught you following us.” Dick said, shoving Jason back.

“Ooh, imagine Little Robin in a tiny domino mask.”

“Boys, boys,” Bruce waved them into silence. He focused on Tim. “You’ll need to train hard and you’ll need a better suit.”

“And a new name,” Jason said, “we can’t both be Robin.”

“What about Bathound?” Dick offered. Jason threw a pillow at him.

“You can’t just put bat in front of everything.” He looked Tim up and down. “You could keep being CC, that’s pretty badass.”

Tim couldn’t stop himself from bouncing in excitement. He couldn’t really believe it. “Uh,” he said still trying to process everything, “I think I’d want a new name.”

“We can brainstorm it later,” Bruce said, “first, training.”

Tim nodded enthusiastically. He would train harder for this than any test he’d ever done. Tim would make Batman proud.

“I’ll do it,” Tim said. “Anything I need to do, I’ll do it.”

Chapter Text

Tim crouched on a high rooftop, camera in hand. His black Kevlar blended into the shadows, rendering him almost invisible. He scanned the street below him, staying perfectly still. A car rolled into the street, grinding to a stop directly under Tim and he reached up to press the comm in his ear.

“Target sited,” he said, snapping photos of the license plate with his long range lens. The car door opened and out stepped a man in a dark suit, adjusting his tie.

“You make it sound like we’re going to shoot him,” Jason’s voice spoke through his comm. Tim ignored that.

“I have eyes on Cionna. He is armed but alone.”

“Roger that,” Dick said. Tim saw a streak of blue land lightly on the street. Cionna glanced up and reached for the gun in his belt. Dick spun kicked it out of his hand causing the gun to fly several feet away. Cionna went to run but found his way blocked by Jason. He tried to turn around but his way was once again stopped. Batman stood over him. In one motion, he slammed a pair of Batcuffs over the man’s hands.

Tim hurried down a fire escape to the car and pulled the boot open. He called over for Robin and together they helped a young girl out, cutting the duct tape that was wound tightly around her wrists. Bruce handed Cionna off to Dick and unlatched his cape, draping it around the little girl.

“You’re safe now,” he said softly. The girl’s deep brown eyes, welled with tears and she clutched at the cape.

“Can you take me to mummy and daddy?” She asked in a tiny voice.

“We can. They’re waiting for you right now.”

“’Fank you, Batman,” she said, “Nightwin’, Robin.” She turned to Tim and cocked her head to one side. “Who’re you?”

Tim crouched down next to her. “I’m Ace.”

“’Fank you Ace,” the little girl sniffled, wiping her nose with her sleeve. Even with the cape, she was still shivering.

“Hey,” Tim said, “you want to see a magic trick?” The girl’s eye lit up she nodded. Tim transformed and the girl let out a squeal of delight.

“PUPPY!” Tim let the girl draw him close and pat his head. Behind them, two police cars rounded on the scene, Commissioner Gordan stepping out and taking Cionna from Dick’s tight grip. The girl remained focused on Tim, not noticing Ciona being manhandled into a police car with a murderous expression on his face. A man and woman hurried out of the other police car and ran up to the girl.

“Mummy! Daddy!” She put Tim down just before she was engulphed by two pair of arms, hugging her closely. Tim shifted back, looking on at the sight. Bruce, Jason and Dick came over to him. Jason ruffled his hair.

Tim smiled and leaned back into Jason’s hand. Who knew all of this would start by falling off a warehouse roof? He would have to write Scarecrow a thank you card. Tim had been given something he thought he would only ever read about and watch in movies. If he had known this is all it would take to get a family who loved him, he would have fallen over a warehouse roof years ago. Actually, Alfred might kill if he did that or worse take away dessert privileges. Better stay of warehouse roofs for now.

“Good job Ace,” Bruce said, checking his watch, “Now, I think it’s time we head back home.”  

“I want the front seat,” Tim said gleefully, racing to the Batmobile. Jason and Dick ran after him, shouting in protest. Bruce sighed. Three kids was more than enough…at least for now.  

Chapter Text

The Wayne household was unusually quiet. Even the distant sounds of car sirens and gunshots were oddly muffled behind the manor’s glass windows, frosted over from last nights snowstorm. The sound of Tim’s spoon scraping the bottom of his bowl might well have been an explosion compared to this strange stillness.

Tim put his spoon aside.

“You okay?” Dick asked, glancing up from his own bowl of Alfred’s chicken and noddle soup.

“I’m not hungry,” Tim shrugged. His eyes trailed back to the head of the table. The seat was empty, just as it had been for the past seven days.

“He’ll be back soon,” Jason shoved another spoonful into his mouth. He had never been one to leave dinner uneaten but Tim noticed the slight crease at the corner of his lips. “He always is.”

But he’s never left without telling us where he’s going before, a voice whispered inside Tim’s head. An animalistic whine stirred in his chest and he fought to keep it down.

“I have prepared that coffee cake you like,” Alfred said from beside the kitchen door.

Tim shrunk into his seat. He didn’t need to be babied. His parents had left him alone for much longer than seven days and he had been fine.

“Want to play Mario Kart after dinner?” Dick offered, “I’ll let you be Daisy.”

The whine grew louder and Tim was only just able to hold it back.

“I think I’ll go to bed,” Tim clambered out of his chair, nearly tripping over himself. He could feel a rising pressure under his skin. The smell of chicken and silver polish made his nose sting and he resisted the urge to cover his ears from a rising onslaught of noise.

Tim took a step away from the table.

“You sure you’re alright?”

Tim hated how soft Dick’s voice was. It was the same voice he used on scared children but Tim wasn’t a kid. He was ten now. That was double digits.

“I’m fine.” Tim said too sharply and a low whimper escaped between his lips. Unable to look at anyone’s faces, he turned on his heel and fled up to his bedroom.

As soon as he slammed his door closed, the world shrunk around him and Tim found himself on all fours. The greens and red around him faded and a warmth spread across his skin as his fur encased him like a cocoon. Tim found himself padding into the pile of blankets under his bed. His head rested on the stuffed green dinosaur Dick had given him all those months ago.

It’s rope tail was a little torn. Unconsciously, Tim chewed on it, his heart beat returning to a steady rhythm.

There was a soft knock on the door. When Tim didn’t respond, the handle twisted and Jason poked his head into the room. His gaze drifted from the neatly made bed to the two eyes blinking out from underneath it. Without a word, Jason came over and sat down beside him. He pulled out a book from somewhere and flipped it open.

The minutes ticked by in silence.

Tim poked out his nose and sniffed at the air.

Jason turned another page. “Well,” he said out loud, “there is no distributing about taste. At least you admire her, except for her complexion. Ford his head and laughed. “I cannot separate Miss Fairfax and her complexion.””

Tim crept closer.  Jason shifted his book to the side, leaving enough space in his lap for a someone small.

“I would have brought you some coffee cake but I don’t think dogs are supposed to eat caffeine,” Jason said the moment Tim gave up and curled into his lap.

Even as a puppy, Tim still managed to glare at him.

“Come to think of it, I don’t think babies are supposed to drink caffeine either-oh don’t growl at me. I’m right.”

Tim huffed but let Jason scratch behind his ears.

“Feeling better?” Jason said.

Slowly, Tim nodded. He focused on a familiar point inside of him and imagined himself as human. Nothing happened.

“Hey, don’t push it,” Jason’s hand shifted to under his chin. “Alfred will save you a slice.”

Tim relaxed into a puddle.

“He’ll be back,” Jason repeated, “I promise you. Just you wait. He’ll probably walk right through the doors and-.”

Downstairs, Dick cried out. “What the hell?!”

In an instance, Jason and Tim jumped up. Jason drew out the pocket knife Bruce had given him for Christmas, his book discarded. Tim went to grab the bo staff beside his bed before remembering that he didn’t have hands. He tugged at the piece inside of him but it remained stubbornly unchanged.

Shit.

Tim didn’t have time for this. Jason had already disappeared down the corridor. On his tiny feet, Tim patted noiselessly on the wooden floors. The trick to the stairs was to hope for the best. Tim half ran, half fell down them and peered into the dining room.

What the hell indeed?

Tim would have pinched himself if he had fingers.

Dick was on the floor, clutching his stomach, clearly winded. A small boy with tanned skin and dark hair was standing over him in some kind of white robe with gold lining. He was holding a sword longer than his own body against Dick’s neck and there were already drops of blood beading onto the polished silver. The boy couldn’t be older than six.

“You’re unbelievable,” Jason starred from the boy to Bruce in the doorway. “This was your big emergency. You had to get another one?”

“I am not just one of Father’s charity cases,” the boy sniffed. “I am Damian Al Ghul, the one and true heir and blood son of Bruce Wayne.”

“Damian,” Bruce sounded more tired than Tim had ever heard him, “put down the sword.”

“Tt,” Damian dug the blade deeper into Dick’s neck.

“Why is this one so stabby?” Jason darted forward.

Tim blinked and in the next second, Jason was clutching his knee and cursing. Damian tilted his head.

“Stop attacking your brothers,” Bruce ran a hand down his face.

“They are not my brothers,” Damian spat out the word.

“Is it true?” Dick tried to get up but the sword returned in a flash to his neck. “Is he your son?”

Bruce grunted in the affirmative.

“Wow, B,” Jason gritted his teeth, “who decided to have kids with you?”

“Don’t speak of my Mother,” Damian focused the full power of his glare onto Jason. Tim could see the family resemblance.

Keeping to the shadows, he slunk closer. He might not have his bo staff but he still had his teeth and he couldn’t let someone hurt his brothers.

This Damian might be quick but he wasn’t expecting an attack from below. Tim burst out from the darkness and latched his teeth onto the soft part of Damian’s arm.

Instead of crying out, Damian froze.

“Puppy?”

He dropped his sword and cradled Tim in his arms like he was a baby.

Dick quickly ducked away from him and rubbed at his neck.

Alfred stepped out of nowhere and gingerly picked up the sword. “I will get the bandages and anti-septic.”

Tim twisted in Damian’s grip. His blue eyes met two green ones that instantly softened.

Bruce cleared his throat. “As I was saying, Damian these are your brothers Dick, Jason and, uh, Tim.”

Tim blinked.

“Tim, Dick and Jason, this is my son Damian.”

“His name is Tim?” Damian shifted Tim to support his head. He didn’t spare Jason or Dick a single glance.

“Well…”

Jason started to talk but Tim let out a quick bark. He doubted Damian could fit another sword under that robe but the Wayne’s seemed to have an unnatural talent to make weapons materialise in their hands. He was not about to test this stabby child.

“There is still some soup left,” Alfred said, “I am sure you are hungry Master Damian after your long journey.”

Damian sniffed.

“There is dessert.”

“Tt,” he hoisted Tim higher in his arms, “that would be acceptable.” He followed Alfred out of the dining room into the kitchen, not once letting go of Tim.

Behind them, Dick leant close to Jason. With his canine hearing, Tim managed to catch the whispered words.

“How does this keep happening?”

He heard Bruce grunt as Alfred ushered Damian and Tim towards the stove top “I have no idea.”  

Chapter Text

Tim Drake was huddled on Damian’s lap, the boy’s finger running through his fur. It had been three weeks since Bruce had returned with the one true heir and blood son or as Jason called him “the spiky child.”

After the second week, Bruce had offered to buy Damian his own puppy, insisting that Tim had homework and opposable thumbs. Both Tim and Damian had refused to speak to him for the rest of the day. If he thought Tim could be replaced by a common dog, he would have to change his title from world’s greatest detective to world’s greatest idiot.

That being said…

There was a soft thud and a black cat with a white muzzle and paws came over to rub himself against Damian side.

The first time Damian had snuck out of the house to follow them on patrol, Bruce, Dick and Jason had flown into a panic. Gotham’s residents must have thought the Joker had escaped Arkham with the number of GCPD officers roaming the streets, their flashlights flooding each crevice and empty dumpster as the Bats soared above them. They found Damian in the end petting a stray cat.

Bruce had let him keep the newly named Alfred on the sole condition that Damian stopped giving him heart attacks.

Damian, for the most part, had agreed…for a few days at least.

“Alfred,” Damian pet the cat’s head and the little thing purred. He nestled alongside Tim, his legs drooping off Damian’s lap. Tim wavered on the edge of sleep but he couldn’t quite bring himself to close his eyes. His fur was prickling with the feeling of being watched. He glanced around the Batcave, noting the empty space where the Batmobile was usually parked and the normally tidy desk, strewn with papers and calculations.

“Master Tim, Master Damian,” Alfred the human™ materialised from the shadows, not unlike a certain Bat, “you should be in bed.”

“Tt,” Damian tittered, “Father, Todd and Grayson have not yet returned. It is late. They should have returned.”

The lines around Alfred’s eyes softened. “Master Bruce-.”

Alfred was interrupted by the roar of the Batmobile. It ground to a stop in front of them and Jason and Dick stumbled out, their boots and faces streaked with mud. They were leaning heavily on one another.

“Aren’t you two supposed to be in bed?” Dick noticed Tim and Damian. He collapsed into a chair and tugged off his boots. Jason dragged his feet over to the bathrooms, muttering about needing a shower.

“They are,” Bruce tugged off his cowl and rubbed a hand down his face.

Tom transformed back into a boy and rushed over to them.

“Are you ok?” He scanned for injuries but aside from their obvious exhaustion, there was no blood or bandages under all the mud.

“We’re fine,” Bruce reassured him, “you should be resting. You have that math test tomorrow.”

“And the packages?” Tim asked, ignoring Bruce last comment, “did you recover them?”

“I think we got the last of them off the streets,” Dick said, “and we put out warning to parents and schools but…” he sighed, “we still don’t have a cure.”

Five nights ago, brightly packaged boxes had appeared all throughout Gotham. If you opened one, you would find an assortment of wrapped sweets. Most adults knew better than to touch them but children, particularly the young ones had treated it like an Easter Egg hunt. Hundreds of children were left stuck in their beds, their skin pale, the shallow rise and fall of their chests, the only sign that they were still alive.

Bruce had been working day and night to find all the parcels, marking one of the rare times Batman was spotted in the daylight. There were no joker cards attached to them, no riddles or question marks or fear gas canisters. As far as Tim knew, no one had died yet but the children just would not wake up.

“I might have found something,” Jason returned from the showers in a loose pair of pyjama bottoms and his Superman t-shirt. He went over to one of the packages and turned it over. Making sure to pull on gloves, he held up a purple wrapped sweet.

“I was trying to comfort this kid whose brother ate one,” Jason removed the wrapping and laid it out, “he told me he found the box but he thought they were Johnny’s, you know those boiled sweets. My mum used to fill my stocking with them.”

“I remember,” Dick said slowly, “they were the worst thing to get on Halloween.” He wrinkled his nose, “they tasted like burnt sugar and syrup.”

“I’m pretty sure they were this exact purple,” Jason said, “I mean there’s supposed to be branding on ‘em but…”

Tim leapt over to the Batcomputer, startling Damian who still had Alfred on his lap (the cat, not the human).

“Johnny’s,” Tim read out, “the once best-selling sweets manufactured down at Gotham Harbor. It says here that they shut down production due to low sale numbers.”

“Could someone be repurposing the old wrappers?” Dick asked Bruce.

“I will look into it,” Bruce promised, “but you should go to bed, all of you,” he said when Dick, Jason and Tim started to protest.

Tim doubted Bruce would be sleeping at all tonight.  

“Come on,” Tim encouraged Damian to stand. Dick scooped up the grumbling kid and it was sign of how much could change in three weeks that Damian didn’t try to stab him.

Tim stopped at the stop of the stairs out of the Batcave. His skin was still prickling. Was it just his imagination or were the shadows around him darker than usual?

He fell into bed long enough for Bruce to tuck him in before he uncovered his laptop. Tim had been building a portfolio on what the media was calling the Sleeping Beauty Curse. It was a pretty name for the hauntingly still children as young as three, unable to eat or drink on their own.

At school the next day, half his class was missing. Tim sat at the back of the classroom, absently filling out his math booklet. His eyes lingered on the empty desks.

The teacher stood at the front, her face blank and her hands trembling. She didn’t speak.

Walking through the corridors, Tim saw the other students huddled together, whispering. Even the weather seemed to be holding its breath. Grey clouds hung low in the sky, drowning out the midday sun, the taste of rain heavy on his tongue.

There was a scream coming from the cafeteria and Tim broke into a run. He burst into the cafeteria in time to see a blonde girl, crouched on the floor. She was clutching at his shirt, shaking him.

“I told him not to eat it,” the girl cried, “I didn’t know…I didn’t know he had it.”

Tim noticed the purple wrapper on the floor beside them.

“Hey,” Tim knelt down next to the girl. She looked up at him, her eyes full of tears.

“I told him not to,” she repeated, “I told him…”

“I believe you,” Tim said. He saw teachers coming up to them, ushering the other children away. “Are there are any more sweets?”

“No, uh I don’t think so,” the girl said, “he found the parcel yesterday. I told him to throw it out, I watched him do it. He must have…he must have taken one or…”

“We’ll find a cure,” Tim assured her, placing a hand over hers. “Batman is on it.”

The girl sniffled and wiped her eyes. “I’m supposed to be looking out for him.” The school nurse came over and took the two of them away. Tim watched the boy’s limp body, his pale fingers curled loosely.

Dick picked it up from school. The drive home was quiet. They pulled into the driveway and Tim thought he saw something flicker in the attic window. A few drops of rain splashed against the car windscreen.

Bruce told them that patrol was off. Thunder echoed through the manor and a fork of lightening lit up the dining room. Alfred (the cat) was huddled under the table and refused to leave. Tim could feel his dog’s hackles rising within him, fighting to find somewhere dark and quiet.

“But what about the packages?” Tim asked Bruce, not touching his plate, “we have to find out who did this.”

“We will,” Bruce said, “but you all need to sleep. No one will be out in this weather.”

Tim thought of the little blonde girl sobbing on the floor. He would sleep when they caught whoever was responsible. Rain lashed against his windows like it was trying to break them. Tim barricaded himself in his room, trying to hold back his bodies’ desire to shift.

There was another burst of thunder and something inside Tim snapped. He let out a cry but his body was already transforming, his bedroom growing larger around him as she shrunk. Everything was wrong. The smell of damp wood and petrichor burnt his nose and he could hear each individual drop of water.

Tim ran from his bedroom and out into the hall.

“Tim?” A voice said. “Is that you?”

No, no, no. Tim couldn’t be caught outside his room. Bruce had told him to sleep.

He ran around the corner and saw that the door that led up to the attic was open, just a sliver. Tim could see how the dust had been disturbed. With his nose, he pushed it wide enough to slip through. Not waiting to see who was following him, he scurried up the steps.

He spilled into the attic and ducked under a cabinet covered in a white sheet. Tim peered out, searching for signs of his pursuer. He took in the furniture, relics from the days when Thomas and Martha Wayne still lived in the house.

Something shifted to his left and Tim’s gaze snapped over to it. In the darkness, he couldn’t make out what is was. It seemed bigger than a racoon or stray cat. He peeked out his head, taking a few tentative sniffs. Tim inhaled a lungful of dust and sneezed.

A soft sound rung through the attic. It was almost like a childish giggle.

Lightening flashed outside and for a brief moment, the attic was flooded light. In that moment, Tim realised that is wasn’t a wild animal at all.

It was a girl.

Chapter Text

Tim stared into the darkness and two bright, blue eyes stared back.

Who are you? The words came out as a soft growl.

The girl cocked her head to the side.

Rain rattled against the attic windows. There was a drip, drip of water leaking through somewhere in the ceiling and the wooden planks under his paws were damp.

Lightening split the night sky like cracks on a frozen lake.

Tim saw that the girl was shivering. Her dark clothes were ripped and dirty, hanging off her thin frame and her choppy, black bob was tangled into knots. She had draped one of the white protector sheets over herself but it was clearly doing nothing to keep out the cold.

“Scared,” the girl’s voice was raspy from disuse. She had a strange accent, stilted and unsteady, as if she was only learning how to speak.

The girl poked his fur.

Tim skittered back, his paws unsteady beneath him. His heart thudded in his head. There was something unnerving about those eyes, too knowing.

“You…dog,” she prodded him again. “Why?”

There was silence in the attic except for the storm raging outside. Those eyes seemed to be staring right through him to the boy he usually was.

Tim focused on that part of him and his fur rippled. His paws elongated into hands and his body grew until he was the same height as the girl, crouched together between the old furniture and storage boxes.

She did not blink at the transformation.

“Hello,” Tim said, his heart rate settled as he analysed the girl, tracking her movements and the scars that peeked ou from under her clothes. “I’m Tim. Who are you?”

The girl didn’t say anything.

“Did you come here to escape the storm?”

Nothing.

Tim saw that her feet were bare. They were bloody and staining the wooden floors with the same black mud that had soaked Bruce, Dick and Jason when they got back from patrolling downtown Gotham. But her scars were all wrong for a street kid. They were uniform, identical narrow lines, closer to the ones Damian had received when training with the League than Jason’s jagged cuts.

“Scared,” the girl repeated, softer. She shrunk into herself.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Tim raised his hands slowly. “Are you hungry? I can get you food.”

“Food?” The girl said and Tim didn’t miss the hope in her voice.

“Yeah,” Tim nodded, “if you come downstairs-.”

The girl shook her head violently. She scrambled back until she hit a box that clinked and rattled.

“Ok, ok,” Tim said, “you can stay here. I can go-.”

A hand darted out and wrapped around his wrist.

Tim sighed. “We can’t both stay here. You need something to eat and a bath.”

The girl kept shaking her head.

“Tim! Tim!” The attic door burst open and Tim’s head twisted around to see Dick pushing his way in. When Tim looked back, the girl was gone.

***

“Aren’t you hungry, Timberlina?”

Tim sat at the breakfast table, pushing his pancakes around on his plate. Dick had dragged him back to bed, insisting that all boys needed their eight hours. He had tucked him into bed, the blankets a straitjacket around him. Tim had meant to return to the attic but he hadn’t gotten more than three hours sleep in the last few days.

He closed his eyes and the next thing he knew it was late morning and Jason was calling him down for Saturday brunch.

“Not really,” Tim said, sipping at the decaf coffee Alfred had given him with a look.

The storm had abated at long last, the grey skies replaced by the first real rays of sunlight Gotham had seen all year.

“Can I be excused?” Tim asked.

“If you’re sure chum,” Bruce said, his eyebrows pinched together.

“Thanks,” Tim snatched his plate and practically fled from the dining hall. He ran up the stairs and stopped just short of the door.

“Hey…” the girl hadn’t said her name, “um, it’s me Tim from yesterday.” He pushed the door open and slipped inside. “I brought food.”

Setting the pancakes down on the floor, Tim waited.

“Food?” A small voice whispered from the shadows.

Tim saw a pair of blue eyes poke out. The girl shuffled forwards and snagged a pancake, stuffing it into her mouth like Tim was going to take it away. In that moment, Tim decided he was going to keep her. It didn’t matter if she was secretly an assassin sent to kill them or a street kid, she was his now.

Tim continued to bring the girl he had nicknamed Cassandra, Cas for short, food and some clothes of his to change into. He had picked the name from a collection of Greek myths his parents had bought for him, on one of the rare occasions they remembered his birthday. Cassandra had been a Trojan princess, gifted with the knowledge of prophecy but cursed to go unheard and unbelieved by those around her. She had been Tim’s favourite.

Dick, Jason and Bruce were busy trying to find a cure to the Sleep Beauty curse. Only Damian noticed him sneaking up the attic. He probably thought Tim had adopted his own stray animal.

“I’m sorry about earlier with Dick,”

Tim sat cross legged on the ground behind Cas, brushing her hair with a comb he had found in Bruce’s bathroom.

“He can be a bit much but he’s alright really,” Tim wrestled with a particular stubborn knot, “he gives the best hugs.”

Cas hummed, sinking against him.

“You will still need a shower,” Tim picked a leaf out of her hair. There was only so much he could do with a sponge and warm water.

“You’ll like them,” Tim insisted, “they’re good people. They’re family.”

“Good people,” Cass repeated,

“Yeah,” Tim nodded, “good people.”

“Batman,” Cass turned to look at him.

“Uh…” Tim said, “well…”

The doorbell rung downstairs.

“I should get that,” Tim put down the hairbrush, “I’ll be right back.”

He hurried downstairs and joined Dick, Jason, Damian and Bruce. They were clustered together around a screen, watching the man who was standing on their doorstep.

“I didn’t know we got door to door salesman in Bristol,” Jason said. “Should we open the door?”

 The man outside was either in his late sixties or a man in his early forties who had not aged well. He had black hair that was clearly box dyed, receding at the back, an ugly yellow suit and brown tie making him look like a rotting banana. In front of him was a cart covered in a white sheet.

Bruce put his hand on the doorhandle and plastered on his Brucie smile.

“Hello there,” Bruce said, pulling the door wide, “what can I help you with?”

The man smiled back, his expression just as fake.

“Mr Wayne,” he said, “I’m John Clark but you call me Johnny.”

“Can I? How nice.” Bruce took the offered hand but Tim noticed him scan the man top to bottom. Tim took stock of familiar black mud, dried on his shoes and the cart’s wheels.

“Then I must insist you call me Brucie. What can I do for you this fine morning?”

“It’s not what you can do for me,” Johnny grinned, revealing a missing back tooth, “it’s what I can do for you.” He threw the sheet off his cart and Tim saw rows upon rows of glass vials, all filled with the same clear liquid.

“This right here,” Johnny said, “is a guaranteed cure for the Sleeping Beauty Curse. I know you have children Mr Wayne.” He looked past Bruce at Tim, Damian, Dick and Jason.

“They may not have been effected yet but it only takes one sweet. For a thousand dollars, I would be more than happy to sell you enough for the whole family.”

“Is that so?” Bruce’s eyes narrowed just a bit, “And how do we know it works?”

“You won’t find an unhappy customer yet,” Johnny said.

Tim heard a muffle creak from somewhere deep in the house. Dick slipped away silently.

“You one of those fancy scientists?” Bruce’s Brucie voice didn’t falter, “Exciting. You made these yourself?”

“Every one of them,” Johnny agreed, “Been in the inventing business all me life.”

“Ok,” Bruce casually pulled a thousand from his wallet, “better safe and all that. We’ll take four vials.”

He offered out the cash and Johnny’s eyes glinted.

“Bad man.”

Bruce’s hand paused.

The Wayne’s all turned and saw Cas standing at the bottom of the staircase. She was staring right at Johnny.

“Bad man,” she said.

Johnny’s smile faltered. “You again…”

“Bad, bad, bad,” Cas pointed at him.

“Bruce,” Dick came back into the room. He spared a look at Cas and raised an eyebrow. Leaning close to Bruce, he whispered in his ear.

“I called Leslie. Apparently this man has been making his way around town, offering a cure. But Bruce,” he said urgently, “the vials, they work.”

Bruce stared from Dick to Cas to Johnny.

The pieces came together in Tim’s mind and he turned to glare at the man. “Johnny’s sweets…it was you.”

“What?” Johnny spluttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“LIE.” Cas stamped her foot, “You lie.”

“You were going out of business,” Tim saw the man pale, “did you have bills piling up? Thought you could make some money on the side?”

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” Jason scowled, “everyone says Johnny’s tastes like ass.”

“Language Master Jason,” Alfred came into the room. He stood in front of Johnny and raised his old military rifle at his chest. “Now,” he said in his proper, English accent, “why don’t you come in Mr Clark and answer some questions?”

Johnny froze.

“And who’s this?” Alfred said, smiling warmly at Cas, gun still held in the air.

“This is my new sister,” Tim said, “say hello.”

“Hello,” Cas waved shyly, “I’m Cas.”

“Another one?” Dick turned to Bruce, “you didn’t tell me you got another one.”  He held his arms wide and beamed at the little girl. “Well…bring it in.”

Cas took a tentative step forward and sunk into his arms.

“I didn’t…” Bruce’s eyes were darting all around the room.

Johnny tried to slip away but Bruce grabbed his arm and held him there.

“I should…alert Batman,” he started to drag the man and his cart of vials inside. At the last moment, Bruce turned back around to where Cas was still trapped in Dick’s octopus arms.

“Ah, welcome to the family,” Bruce said, distractedly before dragging Johnny away, muttering about medical testing and distributing.

***

All around Gotham, children woke. Parents held their little ones closer, siblings clutched each other, friends cried into each other’s shoulders. At every corner, Wayne Entreprises handed out clear vials for free.

Johnny, just like his failed boiled sweets, went forgotten.