Chapter Text
The hum of Tim’s dual monitors filled his room, mixing with the harsh clacking of his mouse, and the occasional click on his keyboard. It wouldn’t be way more convenient to just buy more soundless equipment. Even with his headphones on, he could faintly hear how harshly he was handling his pride and joy. For a brief moment he fiddles with the wire that sticks out from the left side of the headphone. But it doesn't matter now, this was extremely important. And it needed his absolute concentration…
“FUCK” He shouted in frustration, ugh okay fine maybe Call of Duty Black Opps 6 didn’t really require is total concentration. But sue him! It was hard to really enjoy when your teammates are ranked.
A notification buzzed on his phone, lighting up the darkened screen. It only grabs his attention since the desk seemed to vibrate along with the phone. Tim sighs and lazily reaches over, expecting another group chat message. Instead, the unfamiliar name on the screen caught his attention. USername941383.
He squints at the phone for a bit longer and takes off his headphones leaving it on his desk. The game continues to flash and as much as he would like to play he knows this is a bit more important.
He unlocked the phone, revealing the message. Oh? Was it an email? He bites at his bottom lip, this message wasn’t sent through his imessage. Instead when Tim clicks on the notification, he realizes the message is from whatsapp. Pretty convenient to use a site that encrypts your data. The more Tim thinks about it the more he’s sure the person’s number is more likely to come from a burner phone, and their username ends with a bunch of random numbers . It’s sketchy, but not completely suspicious.
USername941383: Got a sec? It’s O
Tim raised an eyebrow. Oh.
He wasn’t sure how he had missed it. US was a reference to the United States, which should’ve given away what the numbers mean. The numbers that spelled oracle in numerical form. It wasn’t the same as a phone though, in fact it was a bit of a stretch. However, it’s nothing fancy. In fact this is something you could only figure out if you typically read from left to right and linked the number towards each other in a diagonal format. For instance, 9 aligns with O on the left side. Whereas 4 aligned with R and so on.
He sighed, this was a bit excessive. Even for Baraba, so he figured this was either a major mission or she was fucking with him.
RR2009: Wsp w the new number?
She doesn’t respond to Tim's attempt to make small talk. So he sighs again and starts typing back the dreaded answer she wanted to hear. What’s up?
Her response was almost immediate.
USername941383: Need a second pair of eyes on these. Then another message
USername941383: Something you should see.
And then another. organized crime
Tim blinked. Her typing was becoming less of structured sentences and more of rambles. He must be getting exhausted because he still needed her to clarify more.
RR2009: Okay…?
He doesn’t receive anything for a moment, and he considers going back on COD until she texts again. It’s dropping, seriously fast. And I'm not talking to a handful of guys over here. It’s unanimous.
Tim frowned. He wanted to call bullshit but he also knew this was Baraba he was talking to. Sure, it didn’t add up but maybe he was missing something on his end. He typed back, fingers tapping faster.
RR2009: Give me a sec, i’ll call
He logs out of COD and starts pulling up his downloaded version of the crime and the reports that were on police records, specifically Gordan’s. On one side of the monitor. He puts on his headphones again before he starts anything. Then, he then filtered through months of data, trying to map trends and plots a graph. It’s helpful to visualize this in points, he’s not looking for a specific villain, but since Baraba mentioned there was a plummet, he’d had to figure out when the last organized crime was committed.
And Shit. He was looking through December and November files and he couldn’t find any mention of organized crimes. Idealistically this should be good, but that was only if there was a steady decline in organized crimes and groups. Instead of the numbers dropping—it practically plummeted to zero. The steep decline began mid-October. This had already unsettled him. It shouldn’t even be probable that all the gangs in Gotham had simply chosen to settle down. Especially when October was known for when shit like human trafficking rates started heightening. So if that had dropped then maybe Tim should try to think back to the last villain he fought.
He wasn’t sure if the last attempt at thugs kidnapping Tim Drake counted. So he thought back further, which was 2 weeks ago. Neither had necessarily been an organized crime. It was the typical doomsday device that swore up and down it’d be the key to world domination and bringing Batman to his knees. He (along with the Justice League) had arrested Riddler, again.
He scrolled further down the flies, looking for a keyword. And sure enough the last organized crime was one he conveniently wasn’t part of. There isn’t even much on the file itself. It simply lists the Gang’s name and the crimes they were responsible for. Since it evidently still took place during Gotham’s jurisdiction, Batman had to have more details. It clearly just wasn’t on police records, and even still.. something about it felt... off. Looking at the graph he had plotted to help him visualize this more clearly. It was like there had been a deep crash in crime. There was no slight aftermath of retaliation. Nothing.
He snaps out of it when he realizes he hadn’t called her, he decides to connect Whatsapp through his monitor instead and calls her thru the pick up. Babrba doesn’t show his face, so while Tim’s camera is on he's still glaring at her blank user. He doesn’t let that really bother him. He looks at his other monitor and shifts his gaze away from the call screen.
“You’re right, O. The drop started exactly three months ago, mid-October. Something big had to have happened that night. A bust or takedown—but here’s the weird part.” He chews on his lip and scrolls down a bit more.
“I’m not seeing any police mentions of retaliation or organized crimes either. It’s like.. every entire operation just... disappeared. The thing is the last one was a new one,” It had to be from the lack of data. “But this seems to be already handled by ‘nother hero. I’ll check in the Bat Files later on.” He redownloads his files and graph and compresses them into a pdf to send to her.
He hit send and leaned back, watching the three dots appear as Barbara typed. She sighs and it’s quiet for a second until she reveals her camera. Yikes . She looks worse than Tim, her hair is swept up in a bun that is the furthest thing from kept. Half of her hair is spilling out and her eyebags are rivaling Tim’s. She stares right at the camera and flips him off, he rolls his eyes.
“ Figures.” She sighs, groaning and rubbing at her eyes “Anything specific about that bust? Names? Groups?”
Tim glanced at his monitors, pulling up the specifics. “Nah” he muttered to himself. He skimmed through the details: “The case name was referred to as ‘Gang’. There had been several arrests, a major cartel, but no name. The reports say they only knew it was 5 and they escaped arrest- again.” This was just perfect, they didn’t even know what to refer to them, and they were clearly smart enough to escape the second time.
“Maybe we should go further back,” He stops focusing on crimes centered around October and scrolls further down in his main files. If they couldn’t find anything on the last, they might as well try the second to last.
“And.. around.. uh September.” Bingo. He ends up finding a more well known organization, September 21.
“Here’s one. It centered around drug trafficking and they were known as Leporidae. They had become top priority for a while, due to their expansion in illegal activities. Typically organized crimes had their own lane, but they recently also committed human trafficking. And it wasn’t until their supply of drugs location was leaked along with them being caught redhanded. But even then there was nothing after that. The Leporidae didn’t continue their line of work. And no one has really seen any shifts in territory. It’s just blank.” Now that he thinks about it, he’s fairly sure Jason covered that. If that was the case, it might be easier to ask him for help as opposed to B.
She hums, “I don’t know Tim,” She sighs, and starts clicking something on her end.
“Doesn’t really seem that different from Coeur Triste’s gang.” Which had been another organization that ended up getting arrested during September 14. The police had tried prioritizing them instead of Leporidae and it ended up in both Coeur Triste and Leporidae escaping.
“ I just don’t know if it’s something worth digging.” Knowing her, she was obviously going to check either way. She shuffles around and he sees her put on her rounded square glasses, and she squints back at her screen. And Tim takes it as a sign to do this same. Tim is finally able to upload the files, his stomach knotting as the progress bar inched forward.
“Okay even with all the files that are in, nothing is sticking out. Which is bad because that only raises more suspicion. Do you think someone’s cleaning house?*” (phrase for reformation)
“Anything possible at this point,” And with that Tim sighed, glancing at the timestamp on the reports. Whatever started in October wasn’t done yet—and something told him this was going to be a huge pain in the ass. He cracks his knuckles, it shouldn’t be anything he can’t handle though. He’ll get back to his video games soon enough. He’s considering remaking his rushed graph when Baraba interrupts his train of thought.
“Thanks for your help, I know it’s pretty late.” Was it really? Huh, Tim hadn’t noticed, he doesn’t bother glancing at the time.
“It’s nothing major,” He wasn’t sure if there was pity in her expression, so he stares at her cam searching for something on her face. He doesn’t find it, because he ends up looking away and starts fiddling with his nails.
“I hadn’t really planned on crashing anyways” He tries doing an innocent shrug which barks a laugh out of Barbara.
“Yeah, I bet your ass was up playing Fortnite.” Tim rolls his eyes.
“Don’t even joke , Damian is the only fornite-crazed freak around here” She rolls her eyes at startings shifting her gaze towards her own monitor. He tries bringing his attention towards ripping out a hangnail. It was kinda gross but he needed something to do with his hands, his screen was taunting him. It was taking its sweet time to download.
“I’ll get access to mid-october flies tomorrow, we should try splitting up this workload ‘till then. I’ll cover motive patterns and you’ll cover major groups. Maybe we can both try to find a connection between the dates and pinpoint significance of any of the current crime lords. ” Barbabe gives an absent minded hum.
“‘Kay,” He’s about to ask if they should just end the call and get back to each other later when Baraba adds,
“Make sure to tell B about this too, something tells me he’s gonna want to see this.” She clicks off the call. He shrugs at the thought but doesn’t even get the chance to argue against it. He hadn’t really thought of telling him he can handle his own weight. But if he’s going to be using the Batcaves data he might as well. He looks at his computer, the right side empty now that Baraba hung up. Conveniently enough he had finished downloading another copy.
“Shit how is it already 4 am?” He takes off his headphones and stretches, fighting back the urge to yawn. He’s not even that tired, really .
*
He wakes up with a start before he realizes he’s been sleeping. It had been a jerk reaction and he’s really feeling the strain on his body now. His back is killing him with the reminder that he slept on his desk and when he moves his head he peels his cheeks away from the desk. His dual monitors lit up with last night’s graphs, crime reports, and timelines. He’d been at it for hours, before his brain inevitably fought against him and he slept. Absent-mindely he picks up his phone and the phone lights adjust itself to a dimmer shade.
He considers going back at his computer but his sides are starting to throb, and his seating position doesn't exactly help him. Still, he tries scrolling through last night's work to jog his memory. Three months ago. Mid-October.
Tim leaned back in his chair, rubbing at the corner of his mouth. It was a reasonable time to be up so he might as well head downstairs. He gets up and out of his chair giving his room a glance over.
Okay.. maybe he should tidy up a bit.
Words couldn’t describe the state of his room. His bed was thankfully made, but that had only been because he hadn’t slept on it. He just sorts out junk that was littering in his room and puts it in the small trash can. He figures he should probably change into longer, and more family friendly pants. So he puts on a pair of jeans that has only been worn twice in a row, and keeps the shirt he’s wearing and heads out.
Before he forgets he grabs an empty flash drive, so he’ll be able to copy the files.
He’d been hoping that it was early enough that he’d be able to stop by and head back into his room. But apparently everyone here wakes up at the crack of dawn.
“Hey, Bruce,” Tim tries going for an air of nonchalance, he’s making his way down the hidden stairwell. Bruce is conveniently in the main computers, the same computer he needs to use.
Bruce barely glanced at him. Unless the grunt was meant to count as a Good morning Tim.
Tim bit back his frustration. Bruce’s single-minded focus was both his greatest strength and the thing that drove Tim nuts. And this was going to drive him up the wall.
“Me and Babs have been looking at the crime stats for the last three months,” Tim started, now wishing he had brought his laptop to show him his graph.
“Yes, I understand the projections,” Bruce said curtly, his fingers tapping the desk in barely restrained frustration. Tim hadn’t even realized but Bruce's hands wielded a phone, he was muttering something in his regular attire so this couldn’t have been hero work..
“No, the board doesn’t need another meeting. Tell them I’ll handle it.” Figures.
Tim hesitated at the edge of the room. Bruce was deep in one of his corporate tangles, the kind that seemed to absorb all of his attention when he wasn’t out in the field. Still, this couldn’t wait. Also if he was in the Batcave as opposed to office it couldn't’ have been top priory.
“Bruce,” Tim said, walking in.
Bruce held up a hand, signaling for silence, and continued speaking into the headset. “Yes, final approval by Friday. No extensions.” He ended the call with a terse tap and finally turned to Tim, his expression already weary. “What is it?”
“Something’s off. Crime has been dropping—organized crime, specifically.” He waits for Bruce to say something so he knows he’s listening but B doesn’t do that.
Bruce didn’t respond immediately, his eyes still on the screen in front of him.
“Bruce.” Tim’s tone sharpened. “This is big. It’s like someone’s wiping out entire networks, but they’re doing it so cleanly there’s no fallout. No retaliation, no shifts in power. Just... nothing.”
Bruce finally looked up, his expression unreadable. “And?”
“And?” Tim repeated, incredulous. “This isn’t normal. Someone’s manipulating things behind the scenes, and we need to figure out who. If this keeps up—”
Bruce held up a hand, cutting him off. “Tim, what you're saying right now sounds like a lot of guessing games and signs of paranoia. Has there been anything leading you to suggest there's a bigger power in this” He says it with an annoying amount of ease and gentleness that is so unlike him. It gets under his skin, and he tries not to look away from Bruce’s gaze. He looks at his eyes, he’s not looking at Batman. And he tries not to let that bother him as he fights the urge to peel his own skin off.
He wins that fight, it’s been over several moments of silence. And Tim doesn’t peel his skin off, instead he just stares at him. His frustration is evidently bubbling to the surface, it’s up until the point where he can’t hide the expression on his face. “Are you serious? This is more than just hypotheticals- this isn’t a guessing game either. Organized crime has stopped completely in Mid-”
Bruce sighed, turning back to his work. “All you’re saying is that the patterns stick out to you. But we’ve handled criminals like this Tim, it’s natural that they are trying to plan revenge. Of course, this isn’t something I want to happen either- so I understand your frustration. But averaging something from 3 months isn’t a solid piece of evidence to-”
Tim’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “What are you even talking about? I’m saying this is something that should be focused on our radar and-”
Bruce’s tone remained calm, but there was an edge to it. “Tim, I’m not upset with you. This isn’t me trying to pick a fight with you. I’m just trying to give you an additional point of view. You might be overthinking this. I’ll look into Gothams Crime and police myself but I can tell you that not every anomaly is a crisis. I need you to focus, Tim.” Focus. Focus?
Tim’s jaw tightened. “Right. Of course. Got it.” He yanks the flash drive out of the console, he can scope out the data another time.
“Tim—” Bruce started, but Tim jumped on the opportunity to cut him off.
He stormed up the stairs, his footsteps echoing in the silence with the occasional string of curses, followed by a grumble and muttering unbelievable. Over and over.
Bruce simply sits back in his chair, watching the empty doorway. He exhaled deeply, rubbing a hand over his face. He hadn’t even had the chance to say good morning, he stares at the computer a bit more hyper fixated on something of his own.