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Chapter Text

Comments Section on “Into the Lives of the Bat-Clan: Part 1 / 4” by Central City Watch

@arsonismyhobby:

          Who was going to tell me that Signal is secretly a Chaotic BoiTM?!?!>>!hsjxn this baby is an ~arsonist~ he’s mine forever go away

>@SignalsBae0001:

          I saw him first >:((((((((

>>@arsonismyhobby:

          share? pwease?

>>>@SignalsBae0001:

          …OK Signal Protection Squad go

@Mae-Sonna

          Red Hood the straight-A student and favorite child becoming a crime lord is not the tea I expected, but it’s probably the tea I deserved

>@AllisonA-1984

          Nightwing the rebellious and murderous (pre)teen becoming a vigilante and the Golden Child despite having one of the most wild backgrounds is not the tea I expected. It’s like they switched…

>>@Mae-Sonna

          Maybe they did? Vigilantes and superheroes run into all sorts of weird stuff.

@Theonlysaneone

          Anyone gonna ask why RR reacted like that to freaking Santa Claus???

>@GR34T

          Literally the entire comment section is asking that.

>>@Theonlysaneone

          @GR34T Okay but why???

>@finnnn__oya

          One of the JL public files (a redacted one) mentioned that Young Justice (rr’s team) were “unavailable for comment, usage, or activities” about 3 years ago. I did some digging and Christmas 2016 (?? maybe, there were some weird time dilations, so it could’ve also been 1994, 2014, 2023, blame the flashes for resetting the timeline so much, it was 3 years ago) there was a Listed Localized Time Compression (group experiences time at normal speed, date doesn’t actually change, everyone outside group doesn’t experience time) of about four months of repeated Christmas Day. 

          Some might remember that Christmas presents didn’t appear under their trees, but once their presents arrived they exited the LLTC. Wasn’t that bad, in hindsight, but Mariah Carey was playing for four months longer than normal, and only some people remember it.

>> @Theonlysaneone

          Was it really that bad for some?? I barely remember that, I got out within the week!!

@BatmanShouldBeMyFather

          Someone come get this child (Red Robin) he’s about to overdose on energy drinks.

@tagyourselfim_

          -the chugged five hour energy

>@lost_inthewoods

          his second red bull

>@dancinINtherain

          spoiler’s backup beanbag

>@1224huin4391

          Signal and Hood’s profanity filter

@kjoboo

          I wanna know who talked them into this

@GBconsumers

          CCW needs to ask about dating within the masked community; past hero, anti hero and villain romantic partners. Let’s get them to spill the tea about one another!

@ErikaSer15

          How did The Batman end up with so many kids?? Who lets this man have children???

The camera opened to a wide-shot.  Veronica, a fairly popular host and interviewer, sat on the right of the screen.  Her chair was comfy and low.  Her smile was bright and inviting.

To the left (her right) was a single L-shaped couch.  Durable, with four seats, and the person farthest from Veronica had room to stretch their legs.

There were only four people sitting on the couch:  Red Hood, on the corner, with his legs stretched out and his ankles crossed;  Red Robin, tucked beside him;  Nightwing, perched on the back of the couch with his feet on the chair;  and Spoiler, laying on her stomach with her chin on the armrest, and her feet lazily kicking Nightwing.

There were a few oddities.  Red Hood hadn’t moved in about ten minutes but occasionally flicked his fingers (no one knew (he would never admit it) but there was a downloaded copy of Pride & Prejudice displayed on his hub, and his glove sensors let him turn the pages).  One arm supported his head, and the other was laid across the back of the couch.

Red Robin, his knees to his chin and his back pressing into Hood’s side, had a tablet open.  It was privacy screened, meaning one had to stand directly behind him (looking from overtop Hood’s head) to see what was being displayed.

Nightwing fidgeted every once in a while.  He’d tap his foot, change which ankle he had crossed over his knee, and return to sitting perfectly still with his picture-perfect smile and staring directly at the camera.  A statue.  He might not’ve even been breathing.

Spoiler had her phone hanging over the side of the couch.  It was easy to see, considering she had the brightness maxed out and the audio fairly high, that she was playing Candy Crush.

The announcement of the cameras rolling didn’t make any of them move – they had clearly chosen their starting positions.

“Welcome to the Central City Watch!  Last week we had eight vigilantes with us, and today we have four!  With us is Red Hood,” he nodded in greeting, moving to cross his arms,  “Red Robin,”  no response,  “Nightwing,”  he cheerily grinned, before snatching Robin’s tablet from him,  “and Batgirl, also known as Spoiler!”  she sat up, popping her phone in a… pocket? … before waving.

Unlike the previous interview, in which Spoiler wore only a domino mask and her “Batgirl” outfit, this Spoiler had her hood flipped up and a heavy metal mouthguard over her face.  Instead of the angled white glare that domino masks gave, her eyes were two large, glowing white circles peeking out from a shadowed face.  She had a purple cloak and black armor, with a purple bat on her chest. 

The Red Hood also had his whole face covered and was still in his signature bright red helmet.  

Well, mostly his signature helmet.  Some fans would later compare the camera footage and point out the different seams and lines on the helmets, and how this one had the slightest ridges on the side that could, maybe, be bat ears.

Nightwing’s uniform was more familiar.  A black, skintight bodysuit that shouldn’t be seen in broad daylight;  a bright blue stripe from his middle fingers to his chest (that formed a more birdlike Bat on his chest);  a domino mask with spikes on the top and bottom that framed his face (and emphasized his cheekbones) and with the classic whiteout lenses the Bats were known for.

Red Robin’s uniform was also slightly unfamiliar.  His cape was a short, jagged thing:  the typical Robin black on the outside, canary yellow on the inside, except it probably would reach past his knees while standing.  He only had a single bandolier strung across his chest, and his belt had been slimmed down to a single utility container.  His mask was a domino still, but one with very round edges. 

“Our first round of questions is one our viewers have been wanting to know for a very long time.  What’s the dating scene like in the vigilante community?”

Nightwing tittered before answering.  “It would take us a lot longer than we have to explain the whole dating scene.  There are five-ish main groups of superhero families, and we’re interconnected in so many ways that even I’m not sure how we’re all connected.  Obviously, we have the Bats, but to those outside the Gotham-Haven area the ‘Bats’ include our Rogues, the Sirens, and other affiliated villains and heroes.

“Then there’s the Supers.  Superman, the Superboys, Superwoman, Bizarro – basically anyone descended from Krypton – but it also includes Lex Luthor, Mxy, and even Darkseid, and a lot of people put the Wonders with them.  Wonder Woman, Wonder Girl, their villains…”

Batgirl, mockingly, was counting her fingers and toes.

Hood, out of Nightwing’s line of sight, was flapping his hand in mockery of a mouth.

“But a lot of people also put the Wonders with the Shazamily.  Captain and Miss Marvel, Lieutenant Lightning, but also Black Adam, Dr. Sivana, Tawky Tawny, and The Wizard.  That’s because the Marvels and the Wonders have, well, the name thing, and they also source their powers from the gods and pantheons.  Because it’s very supernatural (as opposed to aliens), some people also group regular magic users here like Constantine and Zatanna.

“The Green Lanterns are, thank Rao, mostly not on-planet, but they are extensive. Some people also count Darkseid over here, just because it’s a space thing.”

“Finally, is the Flashes.  They’re…”  Nightwing grimaced,  “They’re great, but they keep using the same names – not just as Flash, but as civilians.  They have Flash, Kid Flash, Impulse, and Reverse Flash, except Reverse Flash is sometimes Zoom, and there’s about three Flashes running around, and Kid Flash is being used by numerous time travelers that pop in before returning to their timeline, and there’s only one Impulse, but he keeps using the Kid Flash name.

“They’re ever-expanding.  Insane.  They keep breaking and resetting the universe.  They invite their villains to family dinner.”

Veronica, happy to have more information but overwhelmed, simply redirected Nightwing’s rambling.

“How does dating work, with such large groups of heroes related in some way?”

Batgirl perked up.  “It doesn’t, usually.  Red Robin and I dated while we were both Robin, but we broke up pretty amicably after he lost it when I got injured once.  And then I died and came back, and we decided to be platonic besties forever!”

“I know Goldie and I have had some of the same partners,”  said Red Hood.  “We both dated Starfire and I’m currently dating one of his ex-friends-with-benefits.  I know that the girl he’s currently with (they’ve been off-on for a decade) also had a thing with Zatanna and a few Rogues.  I’ve been with Zatanna.  Nightwing might’ve also been with her.  I did have a thing with one of Batman’s ex-girlfriends.  That’s all I know, I think.  I try not to know who [bleep]wing’s currently hanging off of.”

Red Robin – who had been counting on his fingers – spoke up, an evil grin on his face.  “Are you trying not to mention that the ‘Batman’s ex-girlfriend’ is Robin’s mom?”

Hood flinched. “/-//kch/- No.”

“That static says otherwise, Hood.”  Robin turned back towards Veronica.  “Long story short, dating usually doesn’t work out.  Unfortunately, we still long for human connection and occasionally try it out.  Also, unfortunately, we have a hard time relating to non-masks so our dating pool is pretty limited to heroes and villains.  This leads to whatever Superman and Lex Luthor have going on, Batman’s numerous villain ex-girlfriends, Nightwing, and a lot of breakups.”

Red Robin spun slightly so he was now upside down on the couch, and his booted foot swung dangerously close to Hood’s face.

Nightwing pushed it the rest of the way there.  Hood didn’t flinch and Robin didn’t stop talking at the armored combat boot being shoved right into where Hood’s cheek would’ve been.

“We’re pretty good at keeping things professional and compartmentalizing – par for the course when you have a secret identity – so most of us stay friends after breaking up, and we have a lot individuals who end up with their friends’, siblings’, or parents’ exes.”

Veronica had to ask.

“If you’re relationships with other superheroes are so complicated,”  she paused,  “How would you consider yourself related?  I know you consider yourselves Batman’s ‘children,' but how does that affect how you each interact?”

Chapter Text

“If your relationships with other superheroes are so complicated,”  Veronica said,  “How would you consider yourself related?  I know you consider yourselves Batman’s ‘children,’ but how does that affect how you each interact?”

The Red Hood turned his head to the side.  Red Robin, with a face so blank it was practically its own emotion, slowly sat up and turned his head to look Red Hood directly in the face.  Or, it would be the face, if Red Hood wasn’t slowly ducking into his shoulders and refusing to make eye (domino? helmet?) contact.

The silence was uncomfortable.

Red Robin practically collapsed back into something more reminiscent of a human being as he snapped back to facing Veronica.

“It’s difficult,”  he sighed,  “because when I take into consideration all the Bats, they’re my siblings, cousins, ex, and Dad.  It’s just, family.   But Robin and I are not brothers.”

Nightwing huffed.

Veronica hummed in curiosity.

Red Robin swung his hands around dramatically like they were the explanation currently caught on his tongue.  “It’s just-  we aren’t blood, we weren’t raised together, and we’ve only been non-homicidal for a year.  We don’t work well with each other-”  (“That’s an understatement,”  Hood huffed as his shoulders shook.)  “-so we’re not coworkers, or colleagues, or any other work relationship.  We’re brothers?  I guess?  Because B is definitely Robin’s dad, but B is only sometimes my dad.  And-”

Batgirl interrupted.

“B is only Red’s dad when he’s not my dad.  We trade off.”

“And Robin is sometimes my kid,”  Nightwing stated, as if he wasn’t claiming to be the other parent of his father’s preteen son while being in his mid-twenties.  “Which would make Red Robin his uncle, except Robin refuses to let Red be his uncle.”

Red Robin flailed.

“I don’t want to be his uncle!  But we’re not brothers, and cousin isn’t right either, and we don’t work together!”

Veronica let Red Robin catch his breath.

“So how do you quantify your relationship?  Do you just leave it nameless, then?”

Red Robin growled, a vicious sound.  “I can’t leave it nameless , because then I’m just some-”  his voice slipped into a slightly English accent.  “- ‘interloping pretender’ who ‘should never associate himself with those of a higher breed.’

“How’d you solve that problem, then?”  Veronica asked, even more curious now.

Red Hood’s shaking shoulders had now turned into a deeply eerie laughter that made the couch (rated for 800 pounds, this time) shake dangerously.  Even Batgirl had succumbed to laughter.  Her glowing white circles (eyes, some might claim.  portals to hell, though, might be more accurate) had squished themselves into cartoonish eye-smiles.  Nightwing had gone perfectly still again, not even breathing, because breathing would trigger a fit of angelic laughter that the world did not deserve.

Red Robin stood, triumphantly.  “I’m his grandpa!”

.

.

.

“WHAT?!?!?”  A dozen voices – crew, live studio audience, cue card holders, cameramen, Veronica – all burst out in a single confused noise.

Red Robin started pacing.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense!  He only likes me when I give him things and he keeps doing stuff I did at his age- I even give him the classic detached-grandparent-who-only-vaguely-knows-your hobbies gifts! I mean, if you want to be specific, I’m his pseudo-step-grandfather, because.  Well.”

Red Robin deflated.

“I don’t think I can explain the relationship between myself and Robin’s grandfather without compromising my own safety.”

Red Hood looked at him curiously,  “Because of the- uh.  That?”

“Yeah,”  Robin sat down with a puff.  “He still keeps it on his desk, ya know.”

“Seriously?”

“Talks to it like a Detective’s Rubber Duck.”

“Creep.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

.

.

.

Veronica signalled for a commercial break.

For the next few minutes, Spoiler returned to playing Candy Crush, and the boys murmured to each other.  Despite her renowned lip-reading ability, Veronica had no idea what they were saying.  The Hood’s mouth wasn’t visible, and Nightwing had mastered the art of ventriloquism. 

When the countdown was given and the cameras flickered back on, Veronica was ready.  “Welcome back to Central City Watch.  For those of you just tuning in, our mysterious Gothamite vigilantes have been giving insight into the complicated world of Capes.”

She leaned over her armrest and smiled casually,  “Tell us, bats, the audience has been dying to know, who talked you into answering all these questions?”

Nightwing sighed and settled backwards like a man who’d lost all will to live.  At his concession of defeat, Batgirl practically exploded into laughter.

“It was me!”  she cried,  “B ‘n’ I were arguing about fear as a crime deterrent, versus the benefits of bein’ able to comfort civilians in distress and I won!”   Batgirl had finished her sentence standing precariously on the arm of the couch, with a fist thrust in the air in victory.  “B said I could organize the interviews and screen the questions, and-”  she cackled,  “he tried to scare me off by giving me more work on top of setting this all up!  But no!  I reign victorious!”

Her heavy panting was the only sound in the studio.

Veronica, in genuine awe, had a thought that she would never dare let slip past her lips.  The bats would know of it if she did.

How close are you to villainhood?  That speech was inches away from overthrowing the tri-state area.

Red Robin snorted,  “You got that right, Ms.”

I what.

“The fact that Spoils is one of the only Bats that hasn’t gone villainish rogue for a bit just tells us that it’ll happen any day now.”

Oh no.  I said that out loud.  Smile, Veronica, it was on purpose.  Don’t let the cameras know.

“Really?”  Veronica blinked into a camera-ready smile.  “You’ve all gone villain before?”  A chorus of affirming hums.  “Since you’re here to keep the public from fearing you, why don’t you tell us what kind of villain you’d all be?  What’s stopping you from snapping and turning down a darker path?  Would you go a route like Lex Luthor, or one more similar to Poison Ivy?”

The four met eyes, and a complicated array of expressions flickered over Nightwing and Red Robin, as Spoiler’s spotlight-eyes flicked through various colors, and Red Hood stared on solemnly.

Red Hood shifted, drawing the camera’s (and Veronica’s) attention.  “I’ll start first, I guess.  Most people call me a crime lord.  I allegedly sell drugs, weapons, and info in Gotham.  I’ve also been accused of varying… supervillainous crimes, though I’ve never been arrested or put on trial:  not even in absentia .  That’s not too uncommon for Gothamites.  Because of this, I’m allowed to be on this show even when I was on the FBI’s Most Wanted List for over a year.”

His language steadily grew more formal.

“I’ve been pardoned by the Justice League for various alleged crimes via the insanity defense.  They pardoned me (and notably haven’t pardoned the Joker) because before I was the Red Hood, I was Robin.”

A steadying breath.  Nightwing braced.

“During my term as Robin, the Joker killed me.”  Green light radiated from his covered eyes.

“I was resurrected through a combination of timeline breaks and dimensional echoing, as well as personal magic, that I’m still learning how to use.  I was found and taken in by the League of Assassins, who used a form of corruption magic to fully heal me.”

His tone grew more serious.  The spotlight burned.  The room darkened.

“I don’t recommend the Lazarus Pits to anyone – they are agonizingly painful, and will drive you insane – but they brought me from a mindless zombie to a person.  Then I was brainwashed by the League to think that Batman replaced me.  I was driven off the walls, and spent every waking moment wondering why Batman hadn’t avenged me.  Why hadn’t he killed the Joker for me?”  

His voice was incredulous, and Veronica could see a boy questioning himself even as he held onto that answer like a lifeline.

“The rest of the story’s pretty simple:  I went on a rampage, took over Gotham’s underground, and went full-blown Rogue on B.”

Hood leaned back, ignoring the creaking couch.  “In general, it takes a Shakespearean tragedy to push me over the edge, and I go immediately into the mindset of ‘if I’m the one doing all the crime, then I can reduce the crime done.’  In hindsight, not my best idea, and it probably wouldn’t work anywhere except for Gotham, but it works here.”

Veronica decided not to ask Hood any more questions.  She turned expectantly towards Red Robin.

He sat up slightly, as if surprised she’d ask the question.  Me? his face seemed to say, don’t know why you’d want me to answer…

Red Robin answered anyway.  “On a good day, Batman’s rules are all it takes to keep me in line.  On a bad day, road rage can force me to contemplate becoming an all–powerful dictatorial force and I’m only stopped by the other Bats noticing and restraining me until I calm down.”

He shrugged.  “I figure I’ll go over the edge completely in a decade or two, and the Flashes will have to take me down and reset the timeline or something.  I’m, unfortunately, very much a Lex Luthor villain type.  Most people won’t know I’m the big bad until I’ve removed all autonomy and privacy from their homes and it’s too late.  I do like stealing things, though, so I’d probably slip into a Catwoman internship before reaching that point.”

Nightwing picked up.  “I’d probably go over the edge if I were forced to put on the Batman suit again.  I barely made it through last time, ya know?  If one of my siblings died, though,”  he laughed darkly,  “I might have to go kill the Joker first.”

Batgirl – still splayed out over a huge amount of the couch – hummed, deep in thought.  “I don’t know what could push me off the edge like that.  I’m pretty easy-going, and – no offense, guys – I don’t go bat[bleep] crazy when someone dies on me.”  She considered her words and tilted her head in concession.  “Most of the time.”

Veronica thought over her next words carefully,  “So you don’t know what you would be like if you became a villain?”

“Nah,”  Batgirl said,  “I figure I’ll be like Harley Quinn or somethin’.  Just another gal bringing chaos wherever she likes.  I dunno what could push me to that point, though.  Not exactly eager to find out.”

Neither am I, thought Veronica, neither am I.

Chapter Text

The interview did not calm down much.  “How did you meet Batman?” was a pre-screend question, which meant that they knew it was coming, yet they still burst into surprised giggles at Veronica’s query.

“I’ve got the best story!”  claimed Red Hood, raising his hand like he was in class.

“I dunno,”  said Red Robin, his hair flopping as he shook his head,  “I’m on Spoiler’s side for this.”

Nightwing smiled fondly,  “You’re only on her side because she’ll hit you in the face with a brick if you don’t agree.  Little Wing’s story is pretty good, but I think mine is the best.”

“Psh,”  said Batgirl,  “I should start because I’m the most awesome.  You only think yours is the best because you’re old.”

That insult derailed the show for a minute, as the four (obviously siblings, even if they hadn’t answered her question about relations towards each other) bickered over who was old or awesome or-

Well.  Veronica couldn’t quite tell who was speaking, let alone what argument they were making.

Finally, Nightwing came out on top.  Quite literally.  They’d overturned the couch (again) and had created a veritable mound of cushions and pillows (some, Veronica was certain hadn’t been there).  He was overjoyed.  “I don’t usually win arguments, but for once, ‘Because I’m the oldest’ is actually valid.”

“Your face isn’t valid,”  Red Hood grumbled from somewhere under the couch cushion Nightwing was sitting on.

Nightwing preened.

“When I was a little bitty birdy…”  he began with a storyteller’s voice,  “The mob killed my parents.  Naturally, they made it look like an accident.  In those times,”  (“Old,” droned three unhappy voices. Nightwing hem-hemmed.)  “IN THOSE TIMES, Gotham was entirely mob-run – our political parties were the Falcones and the Maronis, and Penguin had just started pitching the Iceburg lounge – and Batman had just been caught on camera for the first time.”

(“Cameras existed back then?”)

“ Shut up.  I, a sweet, gentle, freshly orphaned lad, (“Lies!”) was the only one who knew that the Maronis had offed my parents.  I, filled with justice, turned to hunt down their killer.”

“Oh my God, [bleep]wing.  You’re not even gonna mention juvie?”

“That’s right,”  said Veronica, shuffling through her notes,  “Batman mentioned that you’d broken out of three separate juvenile detention centers.  How did you end up there?”

“I was waiting for you to bring it up!  At that point, Gotham’s orphanages and foster homes were extremely overrun, and there was an American-Gotham treaty in place that prevented Gothamites from being shipped out of Gotham by the system (it was discontinued after No Man’s Land).  I qualified because my mom was born in Gotham, and I was in Gotham while I was orphaned.  There’s some weird bylaw that says any individual that’s born, married, buried or killed in Gotham is legally a Gothamite, and that any child of a Gothamite is a Gothamite.  My parents were killed and buried in Gotham, so I was a Gothamite and had to stay there.

“Because of the overflow, I was put in a juvie that’d been set aside for system kids.”  He smiled sadly,  “I objected quite a bit.  I kept breaking out to track down Tony Zucco – the Maroni who offed my parents – and Batman would catch me, turn me over to the police, and they’d put me right back in juvie. 

“Eventually, Batman got tired of tracking me down.  I’d gotten too close to the Maroni’s multiple times, and they were about to start sending hitmen after me.   Batman took me in, I became Robin, and the rest is their history.”  Nightwing gestured to his siblings.

The motion was odd, considering he was still perched on a throne of couch cushions and bodies.

Red Hood squirmed out.

The man shoved Nightwing over, thumping onto the makeshift throne with a weight that shook the floor.  Twin groans were pulled from the cushions.  There was a birdarang stabbed into his leather jacket.

“I am a Crime Alley brat, born an’ raised.  I used ta carjack for a livin’.  One day, I was goin along and I found a car parked – the batmobile.  I had my gear with me, B wasn’t present, so I just happened to slip his tires off.  I got the first three off easy, but I got a bit cocky.  I took the time to grab the fourth, and just as I was walking off with it, outa the shadow pops The Batman!”

“Really?”  said Veronica,  “You got all the way to the fourth tire?”

“-|\Sn-//k, yeah.”  Hood laughed.  “He didn’t have any alarms on the Batmobile at the time.  People were so scared of him they didn’t dare touch it.  ‘Course, after me, he changed it up a bit.  He took me in off the streets for a bit – Gotham was still doin’ the juvie-foster care thing – and I eventually took over Robin.”

The cushion-throne shifted.  A gloved hand broke free, and Red Robin squirmed from the pile like a particularly dedicated snake. 

“Is it my turn?”  he groaned pathetically.  Purple glitter fell from his body in thick clouds.

“/-/khsc/, go ahead, baby bird.”  Hood was still laughing, but Veronica didn’t blame him.  Even she was struggling to hold back the giggles at the beat-up bird creature crawling from his pillow tomb.

Red Robin shook his head and glared at the Red Hood and Nightwing. 

Finally, he seemed satisfied and turned towards Veronica, ready to answer her.

“What was the question again?”

He was not ready to answer her.  “I was asking about how you met Batman and became Robins.”

“Ah,”  he hummed,  “those are two very different things for me.”

“Oh?”  said Veronica,  “Why’s that?  Did you know Batman before?”

Red Robin settled on the un-cushioned couch seat, crossing his legs in a single smooth movement.  “I did, actually.  I met him the same night that ‘Wing’s parents were killed.  Witnessed the murder and everything.”

How old was he, she wondered.  A toddler, a young child.  When Robin had started running on rooftops, there was all kinds of questions on his age – immortal, eight, twelve, a very short adult – but while Red Robin had started later in life, he was still noticeably younger than Nightwing.  It could have been a small age difference (leaving Red Robin in his mid-twenties), or it could’ve been near a decade.  Either way, it was a tragedy (and an odd coincidence) that he’d been present at the murder of Nightwing’s parents.

“So you met Batman that night?”  she said.

Red Robin winced.  “Not quite.  I certainly saw Batman, and I did meet Nightwing (not that he remembers much), but I didn’t speak to Batman until I went to become Robin.”

That was odd wording.  “You… went to become Robin?”

“Yup!  After I witnessed Wing’s parents die, I… kept up on the news.”  (“He stalked me!”  chirped Nightwing.)  “Eventually, I learned of Robin on the streets, and I witnessed him do something the exact same way that he did when I met him.  After that, it didn’t take long to realize that the man who took him in was Batman, and that the first Robin became Nightwing, and then the next Robin popped up and confirmed my suspicions.”

Red Robin stopped talking.  Red Hood nudged him.

Hard.

In the ribs.

“Ow!  Geez, fine.  When Robin Hood over here got knocked off the mortal coil-”  Nightwing groaned in exasperation.  “Batman went.  Well.  Bat-”

“[Bleeeeeeeeeep].”

Robin shoved Hood to the ground.  “He went a bit insane.  Started getting a lot more violent than normal.  I figured that he needed someone on the streets with him to keep him from losing it, so I…”  He grimaced and looked away, letting his hair cover his face.  Purple glitter fell like rain at the movement.  “Nightwing?”

Nightwing merely moved his head in a manner that looked distinctly like he was rolling his eyes under the white lenses of the domino.

“Baby Bird popped over to Bludhaven on the night bus and marched over to my door, trying to get me to go back as Robin.  ‘Course, Bludhaven was struggling and I wasn’t happy with B, so I told Baby Bird to take up the name himself – I didn’t realise that he’d actually do it.”  

Red Robin regained his voice.  “I walked right up to Batman with my resume and a posterboard that detailed exactly why I should be Robin.  Then I harassed him for a week until he let me start training with him.  I didn’t take to the streets for a month or two after that, but I was still Robin for almost two years before I got ‘fired’.”  He used air quotes.

“That’s where I come in!”

Batgirl was sitting in between Nightwing and Red Hood on the pillow pile.

Both vigilantes jolted back.  Red Robin laid down on a few cushions on the floor.

Batgirl chirped, unconcerned by the bola around her neck like a necklace.  “I was an active vigilante at the time (no name, just a mask) and I’d just started workin’ with Bats and Red.

“With Red benched, I put on my own Robin costume and took to the streets in leggings and canary yellow.  B’n’I were pretty okay as Batman and Robin, but I was even more wild and unwilling to listen to instructions than Red, so B‘n’I also fought a lot.

“Course, then we got that giant gang war a few years ago, an’ I got a little too much in the middle of things, so B fired me from Robin, too.  I took on Spoiler, and Red and I worked on our own until I took on Batgirl and he officially became Red Robin insteada just ‘that vigilante kid who used to be Robin’.”

Veronica turned to the floor to ask Red Robin a question, only to be surprised.  He’s gone.   

“Where did Red Robin…”

The other three vigilantes had also vanished.

“...go?”