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Chapter Text

I was surprised when Bruce called me, saying that Constantine was currently chasing down some kinda “Dimensional Imp”, and in Constantine fashion, he left it up to me to figure out what he meant by that, and to be fair, with my experience with Batmite and Nightmite, I don’t blame him for not elaborating.

Back on track! Constantine is pretty sure it’s running towards Gotham, and since everyone is either injured, a while’s away, on a mission, or in Duke’s case, “seeing visions from Apollo about a camp in Manhattan.” I’ve stopped questioning in after finding out about Jason’s “destiny given purpose to kill evil” or whatever it was.

And because my luck is so very magnificent, I can already hear that Constantine wasn’t wrong, the imp was going to Gotham.

Too much to ask for one day of normal patrol? Probably…

I grab my grappling hook and shoot, swinging across the skyline to the noise.

Nothing is on fire, or broken, so there’s that, but I’ve only gotten here and I’ve already heard the imp make 10 separate jokes about John’s drinking habit.

Tonight’s going to be a long night.

I drop down to land next to John.

”Status report?” I ask, not taking my eyes off of the imp.

It kinda looks like a mix of how I would imagine Damian sees himself, and how Damian actually looks. Really sharp and demonic, but also really small and cute.

”The hellion has been causing chaos, been switching people out with alternate versions of themselves,” John explains, looking about ready for a drink, but probably not going to risk the imp doing something to his precious liquor.

“Any way I can help?” I ask, though I can already assume he has something planned, probably-

“Keep the damn thing’s eyes off me, won’t yah?” John asks, which was what I assumed his answer would be.

I run off and toss a batarang at the Imp, yelling “Ain’t it a bit boring teasing John when he can deflect all your spells?”

The imp looks to me and laughs, grabbing the batarang.

”Has a regular mortal decided to come join us? Oh, how fun!” The imp cackles, spinning around.

The imp flies off, likely to try and find anyone else that is still out here.

”You aren’t going to find anyone! The people in Gotham are already used to hiding away from villains!” I yell, trying to draw the imp’s attention back onto me.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it does put its focus back onto me.

”Hey, John!” The imp yells, a mischievous smile on its sharp features.

The imp swiftly flies down and grabs me, wrapping its body around me like a cartoon snake.

”Since this one wants to play so much, you have till Batman gets back before I send this little bird to a different universe, and who knows how long it will have been for him when y’all get him back, if he’s even alive when you get him back!” The imp exclaims, as I try to break free, or grab something from my utility belt, or do ANYTHING.

This isn’t good, Bruce is far, but I know he’s going to be trying to get back here as quick as he can to protect his city, and the imp is right, I might not even survive it, or it could be worse, I’ve seen what people that find me interesting do, Ra’s, SHiVA. Gods, I’m luck for Cass, but if that happens again, if someone tries to do that again-

The imp covers my eyes, and I see all these weird colors, and whispers that say nothing and yet so much.

I can still feel the imp around me, I can still hear Constantine cussing up a storm, but I can’t move, not a muscle will move. It isn’t even that I’ve gone limp, my body just won’t move.

It’s nauseating, the colors, the noise, the feeling of the imp wrapping around me.

I don’t know how long it had been till the nausea snapped away all of the sudden and I saw Bruce standing there, with Constantine yelling to him the “game” the imp was playing.

Bruce is here, and Constantine hasn’t defeated the imp.

Bruce is here, and Constantine hasn’t defeated the imp.

“Dad!” I yell, before thinking, cause what time do I have to think, this imp is going to send me away to an entirely different dimension.

I see how Bruce tenses, but I don’t know if it’s cause he’s scared of losing another son, or failing to save another Robin, and the hell to pay he’ll get from Jason for it. I hope it’s the first, but I’m sure it’s the latter.

The imp laughs at seeing the emotional tension, cause of course it would see the terror in our eyes, and the sadness in mine.

”Here’s how this is going to work, for those in the back. He’ll be back whenever y’all defeat me, but who knows where he’ll go when he’s thrown into the multiverse, and who knows the time imbalance it will have, or the danger!” The imp exclaims, wrapping around me tighter and I choke.

I’m suddenly hit with an awful migraine, and there’s a burst of colors, and noises, and objects, and people, and animals, and voices, and music, and whispers, and yelling, andandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandandand-

Chapter Text

-and road?

I look around and it’s definitely a Gotham road, not in any of the busy districts from the look of how small the road is.

It’s Gotham, definitely, but it doesn’t look like MY Gotham, it’s a lot more outdated, the streets aren’t as broken, and the buildings aren’t as broken, and the buildings aren’t as broken, and not as fire resistant. If I had to guess, it’s around when I was a kid (even though I still technically am one).

People are looking out the windows, which just helps confirm my theory, because yeah, these people haven’t learned to mind their own business when weird shit starts happening.

It’s night, so at least I have that, if nothing else. Does that mean Bruce is out? The people are looking like there was a big spectacle when I appeared.

Say his name and the devil shall appear. I hear laughing, familiar, specifically- oh gods and demons of this realm, that’s a Jaybin laugh. Has this Jason not died yet? Is he going to die here? Does the Joker even exist here?

I raise my hands and slowly turn to the noise.

“I’m not a villain, I’m not from this dimension, you got the JL here? I can give you a reason to trust me,” I say in rapid fire succession.

I really don’t need to be attacked by a feral Jaybin.

Bruce comes out of the shadows without Jason, likely to make sure I’m not some kind of extreme threat that is using the JL as an excuse to lure him out.

Bruce grunts to me, trying to convey for me to elaborate on why he should trust me.

He’s so lucky that I know what he means by that.

I think of something to say, what’s the likelihood this Bruce knows Barry? What’s the chance Barry even exists here?

“You could bring me to a speedster, if they’ve started any kinda time travel or dimension traveling research yet. Oh, and if this is applicable to this dimension, has D changed his alias to Nightwing? Or at least have gone to the Titans?” I offer, though it’s more like I’m scrambling out a plea.

I know nothing of this Bruce, for all I know he could be a cannibal, serial killer, or even an actual vampire!

Bruce grunts on affirmative, so I t least know he’ll give me a slight bit of trust, at least for now.

Jaybin comes rushing out, and god, he looked exactly like my Jason looked as Robin.

“So, Mister, what was up with that big light show all about? Some kinda big magical appearance? You a wizard?” Jason questions, hands on his hips.

He’s so tiny, was he always this small? Was I this small as Robin?

Bruce looks to Jaybin, obviously silently warning him to not get too comfortable, since I’m a stranger and there’s no fool proof information on whether or not I can be trusted.

“I don’t know, I was in the middle of a fight, got captured, then poof, I’m here, and likely in a dimension nothing like my own,” I can’t help myself but to answer Jason’s questions.

I haven’t seen him this happy and confident in his safety in years. It’s sad really.

“What were you fighting?” Jason asks with a mischievous smirk, obviously pretending not to know what Bruce is trying to make him not do.

“We should go somewhere more secure,” Bruce states, obviously wanting to get me to an area he can observe my actions without me able to run, while also being able to interrogate me.

“Batcave?” I say, trying to test the waters on how much from my dimension is applicable to this one.

Bruce huffs, which confirms that it does exist, but also shows that he isn’t entirely pleased that a stranger knows about it, even if it’s uncertain knowledge.

Bruce turns around, pulls out his grappling hook, and grapples off.

I know he is trying to see if I know to follow him, since he didn’t specifically give Robin any instructions on what to do.

I pull out my grappling hook and follow suit, Jason after me.

It doesn’t take long for Bruce to lead me to a hidden alley, one that in my universe lead to one of the entrances of the Batcave.

Bruce stops and looks to me, and I can tell the silent questions being asked, “did you know how to get into the Batcave in this dimension” and “is it the same as this one?”

I walk to the wall, hit where in my dimension the panel would pop out of, and when it does I type in the code that would be for this one in my dimension, and when I hear the mechanism opening the entrance, I turn and look to Bruce.

I can see how Bruce tenses at seeing that, yes, this stranger was close enough to the him of their world that they were allowed to know the entrance to at least one entrance to the Batcave, and that our dimensions are close enough that I might know the code of other entrances.

Jaybin does have such worries.

“Were you friends with Batman in your dimension?” Jason asks, wide eyed, looking between the open cave entrance then back to me.

“We where- coworkers,” I answer, cause I truly don’t know what Bruce considered me, if he ever considered me a son, he let me live with him, and he adopted me, but I don’t know if that was because I was an orphan that needed a home and just so happened to be useful, or if he considered me his son- no, considers, I’m getting back home, eventually, I’m not going to die here and have my decaying body be the thing sent back.

Bruce looks at me, and I can see the he how I hesitate, not from a lie, but from being uncertain on what my relationship with my dad Bruce was, and I can see how his shoulders loosen up, assumingely cause he can’t at least have some trust that the person that would be downplaying accepting of an uncertain relationship, and perhaps how my care for him slips into my body language, similar to how his relationship might be to Dick would have with him now, if that is something my and his dimension share.

Should I ask them to sum up some of the major events of this dimension? Should I wait to ask Barry? I’m sure I could manipulate convince Jason to tell me some things he’s seen, or heard from Bruce.

I’m spiraling, that’s bad. It’s weird to be next to dad Bruce and not knowing if he’ll watch over me, or ground me back to earth, when I get so caught up in my own head that I start thinking of cruel plans that shouldn’t be considered, plans that I only started thinking of after I lost him.

Bruce gestures for us to go, having me go in first so he can keep an eye on me.

As I walk in, Jason sticks to my side, throwing off rapid fire questions before I can even answer any of them.

It’s odd seeing Jason so trusting, have I already mentioned that? I know why, of course, it’s because Bruce is with him, I felt the same as Robin, but this Jason hasn’t yet sawn that Bruce won’t always be there to save him, that Bruce isn’t some infinitely divine and all knowing person that can protect him from everywhere that dare try hurt him.

“If you keep asking me so many questions, I won’t be able to answer them, Jay,” I tell him, my voice too fond for who he reminds me of.

He reminds me of Damian when he realizes I know “vital information” that he doesn’t know. Usually, this vital information is about fighting techniques, or animals.

“Ew, you sound like Dick. Are you an alternative version of Dick? You a dildo?” Jason says, quickly thinking up the insult.

“Names,” Bruce grunts, obviously not a fan of Jason so blatantly using Dick’s name.

“What, he already knows!” Jason protests, “and it isn’t like we’re in public.”

“Still good to use code names till out of costume, and no, I’m not Nightwing,” I explain, and I sound so much like Bruce that it makes me want to cry realizing it, it makes me sound like his son, or something.

Jason seems to think the same thing, as he bluntly states, “you sound like Bruce!”

“Then I guess that means he’s right,” I quickly quip back, and I know how hypocritical it is, me saying to listen to Bruce, but none the less, he’s right.

Jason sticks his tongue out at me, and I chuckle a bit. It’s odd, knowing that my family was like this, happy enough in order be able do simple family activities like this, without the endless burdens separating us and being able to simply act this care free.

I ruffle his hair.

“You’re a lot different from my Jay, so much more of a gremlin,” I laugh, the action reminds me of the deep eyebags that seem to be all but a permanent addition on my face.

My Jason was a gremlin, but he was much more of a crazy one, a demonic brute.

Jason bats my hand out of his hair, and I can see how Bruce looks fondly at the gesture, and I can assume he can somewhat tell what kind of relationship I had with him in my time. He was my brother, someone I would care for no matter what, even if my display of love to him likely wasn’t the same as the kind I’m giving this Jason, cause they’re different people, but still so familiar in such a strange way.

When we get close enough to see the main part of the Batcave, Jason takes off his mask, and looks to me to do the same, the same kinda expectant glare that Bruce can perfected, and I can almost think he’s courteous to see if I was lying about no being Dick.

I look to Bruce off of muscle memory before realizing that I don’t need this Bruce’s permission to do anything, he’s not my dad boss.

I pull off my mask and look to Jason, and he gives me an old look.

“You looks dead,” Jason states, and ain’t that ironic coming from the might soon be zombie, but it’s also a little heart aching to have someone actually mention it. I realize what emotions it is that Jason is looking at me, concern, but in the way Jason is for that kids on his street back in Cime Alley, the ones that won’t take care of themselves until forced into it.

“Not yet, Jay, and hopefully not for a while longer,” I tell him with some snark, copying his own personality, giving him a smile.

Perhaps this stay will be a lot better then I initially thought.

Chapter Text

Bruce ended up giving me a room close to his, likely to keep an eye on me, or cause he thinks I was his son in my dimension.

Bruce has to scold Jason into going to bed and letting me rest, though he did have me go through he did have me go through a medical examination from Alfred before sending me off to sleep.

Alfred is pretty much the same as he is in my dimension, which was a comfort, though it was a bit uncanny having him not know my medical history, and him only giving me a side eye and a concerned look at seeing my unwell shape, instead of giving me the most prim and proper scolding to ever be done.

He didn’t realize I’m missing a spleen, mostly because they were testing me for any odd things in my blood and stuff instead of physical damage, and I didn’t much feel like explaining to him for a second time how I lost it. I don’t need Alfred trying to pull out the shotgun on someone that might not even exist in this dimension.

It was Jason that woke me up, before the sun even came up. I doubt Bruce is even up yet.

Jason has some of D’s clothes in his arms, and he says, “I brought you some clothes, but after you take your shower, you must train me!” Jason proclaims, looking up at me like he’s come up with the smartest idea to get what he wants.

“Train you in what I’m good at, or what the version of you that was in my dimension would like? I ask, cause I am all too aware that this Jason is similar enough to mine to not stop till he gets what he wants.

“Well, what are the options?” Jason says, trying, and utterly failing, to mimic the tone Bruce uses when talking to Gordon, and he sets the clothes on the edge of the bed.

I chuckle at his antics, and talking to him in the same businessy tone, just more humored, “Well’ I’m a detective, good at martial arts, but my version of you much preferred weaponry, and while I severely doubt that Alfred will allow me to borrow his shotgun, and I even more doubt that Bruce will allow me to show you how to use a gun, but I can show you how to properly wield knives,” I explain, seeing how Jason lights up, pouts, then lights up again.

“Your Bruce allowed that version of me to use guns!” Jason exclaims, and I can see why Jason so quickly resorted to using guns, he absolutely loves the things.

Street kid now and forever, I guess.

“My version of you was a lot older when he started using guns, and my version didn’t really give him a choice on the matter, he just did so and never stopped when Bruce told him no,” I elaborate, not wanting this Jason thinking Bruce is going to let him use them.

I grab the clothes Jason brought me, and look to him in question, “Are these D’s?”

“It isn’t like he’s here to use them,” Jason huffs, and I can see how much he misses him.

It’s kinda nice and kinda sad seeing how much Jason flipped through emotions, clearly displaying them without a hint of worry…

I need coffee.

I walk over to the bathroom, lock the door, and turn on the water.

I notice some some bruising around my waist as I get ready to shower, probably from the imp wrapping around me like some kinda cobra, though I think the most concerning thing might be the fact that the bruises are a vivid, radioactive green.

That’s concerning, but I’ve had worse! If we simply forget that I had a spleen most of those times, or almost died-

Bruce seems to have activated his sixth sense for mischief, as he walked down to the Batcave not soon after I started to show Jason how to properly hold the knife for stabbing or slashing.

Bruce lets out a deep sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he asks, “why are you teaching Jason how to hold a knife?”

He looks like he hasn’t had his coffee, or maybe he is simply realizing how chaotic having another son vigilante in the house is going to be.

“Don’t teach him to stab people, please,” Bruce sighs.

“Hypocrite,” I quickly shoot back without a thought.

Huh, I still haven’t broken that habit from my Robin days, guess I still have some whimsy in my life.

Bruce glares at me, sighs, and finally speaks, “We’re going to Zeta up to the watch tower to meet with the Flash after breakfast.”

Ok, yeah, Bruce definitely hasn’t had his coffee if he’s telling us to have breakfast before going and getting information, but he’s speaking words, so there’s that.

I put up the knife when I get back up to the kitchen. Alfred doesn’t seem all that fond of me stealing from his kitchen for vigilante purposes, but he hasn’t lost all his care for true professionalism in this dimension, yet, probably cause he hasn’t had to deal with all 7 of the kids people that are on and off living in the manor.

Alfred has already made breakfast, and has set out a seat for me, leaving Dick’s seat vacant still.

It’s a bit odd eating at the table without a full house. I never really did till Duke came along, though it had originally only been to help comfort him from not having his parents around anymore, though it soon became a habit.

Jason chitters away about nothing in particular, I fain interest, even though I have no sweet clue what he’s talking about.

Breakfast ends with no war crimes committed, or stab wounds inflicted, so it’s safe to say that went astonishingly well.

And, of course, now that breakfast is done, it’s time to go meet this dimension’s Flash and see what’s up with me.

Bruce had me put back on the suit I came in, though he did mention it might draw too many eyes, since it didn’t really look like the standard rookie costumes of his dimension. So, in short, I have yet again been told to get a better looking costume, though this time I have to deal with a Jaybin excitedly trying to have me let him have a part in the design of the costume. I don’t have the heart to tell him no.

It took as long as usual for Barry to get here, as in far too long for the fastest man alive, though it’s nice seeing that it is Barry that’s the Flash of this dimension, and he did get here, so I’ll call that a win.

Barry came with one of his machines from the lab, set it up, and told me to put on the cords.

“You’ll feel really jittery for a while, as it uses the speedforce to see where you came from,” Barry explains, tying me down so I don’t jitter myself into a concussion.

“Jitter was, in fact, far too light a term for what the machine did. That was a full blown seizure without the brain damage and sloopy face.

My emergency beacon went off cause of my unsafe heart rate, and when it didn’t find any of the other beacons and I didn’t turn it off after a few minutes of buzzing, cause I literally couldn’t control my limbs, the beacon’s siren started going off, and it scared the bejezus out of everyone.

Luckily, it was only around the end of the test that it started beeping, so the test ended before they thought to stop the test and figure out what was happening.

After a few seconds of rest when the test stopped, I click the beacon off, my muscles sore from the forced movement without any kinda directions from the brain to do so.

“What was that siren about?” Bruce questions, though I can hear a rare bit of concern under his brooding persona.

“Emergency beacon,” I huff trying to get my head to stop spinning, “my heart rate suddenly spiked to dangerous levels, and since I’m not in my dimension with the corresponding beacons for it to send my coordinates and vitals to, and I was unable to deactivate it within the designated time, it set off the alarm.”

Is that a lot of information? Yes. Do I know that if I didn’t elaborate, the two scientists, plus Jason, would be asking more questions? Yes. Do I have too big of a headache to deal with this? Also yes.

Ok, getting onto them for wanting to know everything is calling the kettle black, but still. I’m tired. Could I ask dad to carry me home? Am I too old for that? Nah, Bruce is big enough to do it anyway.

I slump against the chair Barry tied me up to, groaning and rubbing my head. Maybe I did actually get brain damage from the testing.

“I wanna go home~” I complain, the raging ack of my body and head making me not care in the slightest about how immature I sound.

Barry chuckles a bit, looking to Bruce, “he’s definitely one of your’s, Spooky,”

Dad huffs, getting the cords and restraints off of me before picking me up and bringing me to the lounge and laying me on one of the couches.

Jason follows along, asking, “is he going to die?” I doubt he believes it as much as he’s just trying to be an ass.

“Go eat wax, Jaybird,” I huff, tilting my head into the couch to block out the light.

It takes a bit for Barry to calculate the information and pin it down before he comes back.

“Good news, he’s from a dimension very similar to this one, though some of the events that happen are gumbled up, and he doesn’t exist in this world, so there aren’t going to be any issues with a doppelganger, bad news, his dimension is the equivalent to a bad future for us, so while the events currently happening did happen in his world, some of the events in his time won’t happen here,” Barry explain, not seeming all that joyous about the bad timeline thing.

I don’t need to look over to know they’re giving me pitying looks.

“So I have a limited time big brother?” Jason asks, and he seems a bit grumpy at the fact.

“Unless the one that sent me here isn’t defeated,” I add, since it’s probably good to clarify.

I can here Jason scuffling around before he pounces on me.

I scramble up and grab him ny the back collar of his suit, and he goes limp like a cat. I’m still impossibly pleased that every Robin, except me and Steph, were taught to do that, makes getting to stop causing chaos so much easier.

I let go and Jay starts complaining that it’s “so unfair that you know how to do that,” before he tries to do it to me, and I get to cackle at seeing him fail, and explaining to him that I’ve seen Bruce do it hundreds of times, and I lay back down from the subsequent headache from laughing and speaking.

“You’re such a meanie! Even worse than Nightwing!” Jason pouts, crossing his arms.

That’s ironic, though I don’t much care to explain the irony of that statement to him, hopefully I won’t be here long enough for it to be important.

But when does anything go my way?