Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stray grasped the necklace he had just taken from the display case. He held it up to the light and examined it for flaws. Yep. Real. This was a huge score. The buyer would be thrilled. All he had to do now was extort the bastard into paying double. It was easy. He had photos of his last three dealings. Enough to put the guy away for a good decade if he didn’t pay up. Stray really hoped the jerk didn’t buck up. He wouldn’t sell out a customer normally, but this guy was a real douche and needed to go away. It was bad for business if Stray went around putting the assholes in jail. But if they didn’t pay up? Fair game.

He vaulted out of the skylight onto the rooftops, running and jumping faster than most people could even imagine. He jumped down from the final roof onto his hotel room balcony, and closed the open window once he had flung himself through it.

He opened his laptop and sent a secure message to the buyer.

Stray was very proud of his messaging system. Completely encrypted, courtesy of a bit of magic, and even then, if someone did manage to hack their way in, each client was given a unique cypher that could only be accessed with a separate drive he gave each client. Coming up with the cyphers was a pain, but he had been able to evade the Bats so far with it, and keeping up with and stumping Oracle was an accomplishment not many could boast.

He set up a meet for the following night, and then turned to his next ‘order’ – a painting, currently housed in the Musee d’Orsay.

It was a bit of a cumbersome heist (the painting was rather large, and he tended to stick to small items) but he had accepted. He was getting bored of Gotham and the US in general. It was time to branch out.

Stray changed and plopped back down on the couch after grabbing a drink from the mini fridge. He pulled up information on the painting and the museum.

“What do you think?” he queried the room.

“I don’t know, Tim. Isn’t it a bit of a risk?” the nasally voice over his shoulder asked.

“You’re the one that asked, ‘what is life without a little chaos?’” Tim retorted.

“This was never what I had in mind, and you know it,” they replied.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Tim waved a dismissive hand. “So… Paris?”

“Paris.”

~~~~

Tim followed behind his parents as they entered the gigantic warehouse used to house pieces that were being catalogued for sale and preserved prior to going on the viewing floors. His parents were primarily businesspeople, and his father was a corporate executive, but had a penchant for collecting rare items on their travels. This time it was ancient Sino artifacts. One of the boxes had been stolen, according to the man they were making a deal with in very broken English. The man was going on at length to them about how they would likely never recover the amazing brooches that had been in the other crate. How it was highly likely that they were now on the Black Market somewhere.

“Don’t wander, Timothy!” his mother called out to him as he headed towards a cool looking statue that was clearly Egyptian. “And don’t touch anything!”

“Yes, mother.”

The eight-year-old Tim rolled his eyes and headed off towards an open crate. Lying scattered on the top was a bunch of jewelry. One in particular caught his eye.

A strange black ring that didn’t look like it belonged. It had an acid green paw print on it. It looked too modern to belong.

He picked it up, determined to show his father. “Dad, look at-”

“Not now, Tim.” He waved a hand dismissively behind him, without ever looking up from the small statue they had been bartering over. “Play with your game while we’re busy.”

He looked down at the new game system they had gotten him for the trip. A bribe. Keep quiet and don’t distract them, and he was allowed to come.

He put the ring in his jacket pocket. He could always show them later. He sat down on a smaller crate and pulled up his latest game, determined to beat the next boss.

~~~~~

Back in Gotham, little Tim put on his jacket to head out onto the Drake manor grounds. His parents had jetted off on another trip the moment they had gotten home, leaving him with his housemaid (Tim refused to call her a nanny, and she didn’t act like it most of the time), Mrs. McIlvaine, who was currently… somewhere. He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t actually seen her all day outside of meals.

He felt something cold hit his hand, and pulled it out. The ring. The one he had meant to show his dad. Holy theft Batman, he had stolen the ring from the warehouse. Oh no. He would have to tell his parents. They would be so mad…

He cringed and was about to put the ring on the table where they kept their keys, when he decided to try it on. It was huge for a moment, before it shimmered and became a plain silver band with what looked like a black braid across it. It had shrunk to fit his finger perfectly. A fidget ring! Perfect. He had seen kids at school with these on. They were really popular right now. As this happened, a ball of energy shot out of it, forming a tiny black floating… thing. Alien? Cat? Alien cat?

It had to be an alien. Along with the expected tail and whiskers (though they were weird), it had an antenna on the top of it’s head. The alien cat thing stretched and then floated around his head once, its antennae swishing behind it. “Hey kid, got any cheese?” it asked in the most nasally voice Tim had ever heard.

“Uhh…”

The thing cocked it’s head to the side. “Nevermind, I’ll just go find something myself. I’m starving! Ooou I wonder if I can eat this!” It dove for his Gameboy. It attempted to swallow the thing whole as Tim launched himself towards it to try to rip it out of it’s mouth before it destroyed it.

“No! Not that!” he complained as he wiped off the thing’s saliva on his shirt.

“What about this?” the black alien thing flew up towards a piece of decorative fruit that was on the dining room table in the room beside him in the hall.

“Not a good idea. It’s fake.” Tim sighed. “Give me a second and I’ll get you some cheese. Okay?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

Tim went to the kitchen and grabbed some cheddar cheese from the fridge. The alien cat grabbed it and chomped it down in a couple of bites that left Tim wondering how it didn’t choke.

“Uhm… what kind of alien are you?”

“Alien? Me?” the apparently not alien laughed at him. “I’m a kwami. Didn’t the guardian explain any of this to you?” the alie-kwami said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Guardian?” Tim was very confused. Did the kwami mean his parents?

“What the hell kind of cheese is this?” the kwami asked incredulously as it swallowed a giant mouthful.

“Cheddar?”

“Don’t you have anything better?”

“Like what? Cheddar is the best!” He sometimes snuck cheese between the meals Mrs. McIlvaine served.

“Gah, kids. Terrible taste. Something gooey! And smelly! The smellier, the better.”

Tim’s face curled up in disgust. “I think we have some brie at the back of the fridge, will that do?”

It must have been acceptable, because the thing flew into the fridge and disappeared.

Tim glanced down at the ring on his finger for a moment… and then closed the fridge. He breathed a sigh of relief. He had no clue what that kwami thing was, but maybe he could keep it trapped until he could figure out what to do.

He leaned his back against the door in case the thing decided to try to force its way out.

Okay. So, the thing was a kwami, whatever that was. Clearly a magical creature of some kind. It was attached to the ring somehow. Could he get it back in? Wait – could he even take the ring off?!

In a panic, he reached down and removed the ring. Phew. It returned to its previous state, the black ring with green paw print. Now that he looked, the green was the same as the kwami’s eyes.

“So, got a name, kid?” the nasally voice said from directly beside his ear.

Tim jumped and screamed. “How did you get out?!”

“I’m a kwami. We can phase through matter. Didn’t the guardian teach you anything? Why am I out anyways?”

“I don’t know who this guardian you’re talking about is. I just found the ring in a crate and went to show my parents… and I forgot… and oh man. I stole it! You! I stole you! What do I do? Does this mean I’m a kidnapper?!”

“Relax kid.” It flew up into his face and peered at him closely, as if actually looking at him properly for the first time. His face grew sombre at what he saw. “Aw man, you’re young. Really young.”

“I am not!”

It laughed. “Sure thing kid.”

“Tim.”

“So here’s the deal, kid-”

“Tim! My name is Tim!”

“Are there any wars here, Tim?” the cat asked him. All joking had disappeared from the otherwise cheerful cat kwami.

“What? Here? In Gotham?” Tim asked. “No? I mean, we have some bad guys, but there’s no world war or anything like that… Why??”

The cat seemed satisfied with this answer and visibly relaxed. He did a flip in the air and the grin was back. He ignored Tim’s questions.

“You need to get me back to the guardian eventually. They have a few temples. Ours was in Tibet.”

“Tibet? I can’t go to Tibet!” Tim began to freak out. “I’m just a kid!” The thing laughed at him as he fully admitted he was still a kid. How was this happening to him? ”I need to tell my parents. They’ll know what to do.”

“No way. The miraculous – my ring – is a secret. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Then how am I supposed to get you – what’s your name? – back to Tibet?”

“Name’s Plagg. I’m in no rush. They’re all stick in the muds anyways.” Plagg did a roll in the air before continuing. “It’ll be nice to be out without some world-ending crisis that needs to be fixed.”

Tim blanched. Wars? World-ending crisis? Maybe he should be handing Plagg over to Batman and Robin to take back. But then he saw Plagg zooming around the room playing with the kitchen gadgets and having fun.

It would be nice to have a friend. Even if it was a little flying cat.

~~~~

“So where are these parents of yours?” Plagg asked after three days had passed and they still hadn’t returned home. He had explored the whole house, and once Tim had Mrs. McIlvaine order more cheese for him, Plagg had been very content with his new ‘easy life’ as he had called it.

Tim put down his fork. Mrs. Mac, as Plagg called her, had made dinner for Tim before leaving him alone for the night. “They travel a lot. For work, y’know?”

“And this housekeeper?” Plagg’s eyes were glowing a bit. Tim shrugged. “This happen a lot, kiddo?”

“I mean… yes? They’re busy!” he tried to justify it to the cat. The words fell flat to even his ears. They were always ‘busy.’

“I don’t like it,” Plagg mumbled quietly to himself. “Let’s go get me some more cheese.”

“But Mrs. McIlvaine just got you some yesterday!”

“And I want more. Let’s go out kid!”

Tim didn’t have any money for cheese.

“There’s an entire safe worth of cash behind that portrait, kid. It’s your house. Use it.”

Tim seemed to hesitate, but Plagg softly nudged his shoulder. The gentle affection (for Plagg) broke Tim’s resolve. “But I don’t know the combination.”

“You’ve got a god who can phase through inorganic matter,” Plagg retorted with the biggest eye roll Tim had seen on the cat deity yet.

“Right.”

Plagg went through the wall, the safe and painting attached to it swinging open for him without setting off the alarm.

Tim riffled through it until he found what they needed, a giant safety deposit bag full of cash. He grabbed a $100 bill, as there was nothing smaller for him to take, and went to shut it.

“That’s it?” Plagg asked, looking at the singular bill.

“That- That’s enough for like 20 wheels of cheese!”

“Exactly. We need at least a month’s worth. And what if I’m super hungry one day?”

“I can’t keep that much cheese in the house – they’ll think I’ve gone crazy.”

“Who? Who will? Do you see anyone else living here now?” Plagg prodded.

The silence in the house said more than Tim ever needed to.

Plagg continued since Tim had hesitated, “You don’t have to be trapped here anymore. Things are all going to change, Tim. If you’re willing to, that is.”

“Fine. Let’s go.”

Tim rode his bike into town to the closest corner store that still advertised as being open after 8pm on the Waynet search engine. The store clerks were amused as the small boy bought every single block of cheese they had and a few sugary drinks and bags of chips and cookies for himself that he knew his housekeeper and parents would never buy for him. He stuffed most of it in his backpack that he had brought along, and tied the bag with the chips in it precariously to the top handle.

Tim thought the trip was very successful overall.

~~~~

“I’m boooooored, Tim,” Plagg moaned as he floated on his back around Tim’s head. He had long since finished his homework, and was now just sitting on the couch, his head lolled backwards, staring at the ceiling. His eyes were glassy, fighting back tears Plagg knew the kid would never let fall.

“Did you want to watch some TV?” Tim offered, pushing back the tears Plagg watched him ignore.

“No. I’ve already seen the episode playing now.” Plagg had pulled out his whiney voice that Tim couldn’t stand.

“A game?”

“No. Let’s go out again!” Plagg seemed determined as he swished around enthusiastically. “We could go to the arcade! Or the movies!”

“I don’t have any money.”

“That didn’t stop us last time,” Plaggs eyes glinted devilishly.

Tim hummed and hawed about it for a moment. “Okay. Let’s do it,” his head finally raising up from it’s craned position.

Tim had been moping and bitter about his parents. They had come home the day before, and barely acknowledged his presence. Tim had barely said a word unless prompted since. Plagg needed to do something to get his kitten out of the mood he was in. A night of fun was just what the kid needed. His parents were at some charity event. They likely would be out until 2 or 3 in the morning. There was no one else home. His presence wouldn’t be missed. The money was chump change for his parents. He could take the whole stack of bills without them ever noticing it missing.

Plagg grinned as his holder grabbed five bills this time. “So we can pick up some snacks on the way home!” Tim said happily, explaining the extra money away.

Yep. It was just what the kid needed, Plagg thought as they arrived home, Tim’s backpack full of cheese and snacks, his belly full of popcorn from the movie theatre, and a new high score flashing on Cheese Vikings at the closest arcade. A bit of fun and rebellion in his life.

Chapter Text

Tim, map of Paris and of the museum in hand, toured around the building, following behind a school tour, soaking up the information they were giving about each piece and the museum itself for free.

Why the Court of Owl’s Paris branch wanted this painting was none of his business, but Tim couldn’t help but feel that this heist in particular was just for the sake of vanity. The gig paid well though, and he had been planning on updating the manor’s security system. Doing it discreetly so it wouldn’t attract the attention of the Bats meant paying an awful lot of extra under the table. Having nosy neighbours was the worst. While Tim was definitely not hurting for money these days, he also did not want to be in the same situation his parents had landed in.

This one theft would put him in the black no matter what upgrades he made.

Really, the security on the place was pathetic. He could steal it easily right now if there weren’t dozens of people around him frequently bumping into him and it wasn’t so large.

The final room did include something interesting he would definitely be returning for after the job was done. A statue depicting miraculous holders. He was sure the museum had no clue what it truly had in its possession.

Collecting miraculous related items had been a bit of a hobby that had grown when Plagg grew excited when he saw one in Metropolis when he had been on a school trip with his boarding school. They hadn’t seen many, but Tim made sure to swipe them all for Plagg.

Tim glanced around the room again. Only two security cameras in the rooms he needed to worry about. The statue was just behind plain glass.

This was no challenge. It was too easy. A regular thief could have done the job. There was no reason to pay Tim’s exorbitant fees.

~~~~

Tim disintegrated the small lock, rather than bothering to pick it and risk setting off some external alarm, entering through a window on the second floor. He knocked the camera lightly with his extended staff to put it off center, then he lowered himself down silently to the tile flooring using his staff. He padded his way across the floor to the painting, lifting it gently off the hooks. Not even a silent alarm for his supernatural ears to hear.

He would have to come back for the statue another time. His hands were full. Maybe he would try to make it more of a challenge.

~~~~

His parents had gone on another trip. The first postcard had arrived, and Tim glanced at the scene of the Japanese temple. It was pretty. It had taken several days to get there, and they would likely send another one or two before they came home again – unless plans changed, and they needed to be gone longer.

Plagg was a blessing for Tim. A friend. A very small, annoying friend, but a friend, nonetheless.

The young Tim was always amazed at just how much cheese Plagg would eat if you let him gorge himself. They were out once again – it was becoming a routine to go out every few nights, just so Tim could escape the stifling silence of the manor.

His backpack was full, once more, with every kind of cheese the store had in stock. He would special order the stuff Plagg liked most, but Plagg had told him that it would be too suspicious for some kid to regularly order that much cheese. So instead, he was left with rotating between any store he could reasonably ride his bike to in the hours they went out. Plagg didn’t complain when he knew Tim was trying so hard to make him happy. He got enough of that from his parents. They both knew that Plagg would prefer his cheese gooey and smelly, but he would gratefully eat cheddar when that was all they could find.

They were a little too close to the area that had earned the not-so-affectionate nickname of Crime Alley for Tim’s comfort tonight, but they had managed to get the cheese and had gone to play mini golf beforehand (Plagg chased the ball when there was no one around to see, living up to his name as a cat, all just to make Tim laugh), and they were now walking back to where Tim had locked up his bike.

He cut through a small dark alley dividing two sets of apartments to get back to his bike faster. Then a whistle sounded behind him.

Then another in front of him.

Oh no.

He was trapped.

“Give us the bag and any money you’ve got kid, and we’ll let ya go,” a deep voice sounded from behind him.

Tim froze, but Plagg poked him from within his pocket. “Move kid. You’ve got to move.”

“But… there’s someone ahead too,” he whispered back.

“Better to meet them one at a time than both at once.” Plagg encouraged him as Tim took a slow step forward, trembling. “You can do this kid. You’re not alone. You have me. I’ll keep you safe, kitten. Now… run.”

Tim took a deep breath and sprinted forward as fast as he could, trusting Plagg. He was two feet away from the man blocking him from getting to his bike when Plagg shot out from behind him and darted down to the man’s feet.

He touched the ground, and a pothole appeared, tripping the man and making him fall, giving Tim time to escape. The man screamed as he ran around him, clutching his ankle. It must have twisted or broken during the fall. A moment later, Plagg was back in his pocket and Tim ran as fast as he could for his bike. Plagg flew through the lock, instantly unlocking it for him, and Tim hopped on, riding away as fast as his 8-year-old legs could carry him.

Tim didn’t slow down until exhaustion hit him halfway home. He slowed to a normal pace when he hit the bridge and finally exclaimed to Plagg, “You’ve had powers this whole time?!”

“I am a god, what did you expect?” Plagg floated along beside him across the empty bridge.

“I-I don’t know! You’ve never mentioned it before!”

Now that Tim thought about it, strange things always happened with Plagg around. Things – not just cheese – disappeared. Usually right before Tim was about to get into trouble. Broken glass? It disappeared before Mrs. Mac could see to scold him. Plagg was Tim’s little guardian angel.

Plagg cackled gleefully. “Why tell you when I can just show you? You need a little more chaos in your life.”

Tim wasn’t sure if he should be excited or scared.

~~~~

Plagg seemed determined that Tim didn’t stay inside moping any more than a couple of days. While most of those adventures were normal and safe, even if it was just onto the manor grounds rather than staying inside and stagnating, Plagg definitely encouraged him to go out and cause chaos.

It was all going fine, until they were at the arcade one night. Tim exited the building, sad he had managed to lose his game ten times in a row. His luck was really off that night.

His bike was missing. The bike lock chain had been cut. His bike was long gone.

“It’s going to take hours to walk back now!” he lamented. He pulled out his phone and mapped the route in. Yep. At least a two hour walk. It would figure it would happen on the night he and Plagg ventured into the city farther than normal. He had never appreciated a car more in his life. It would have been a 15 minute drive.

“What’s that?” Plagg asked, pointing to something four blocks away on the path Tim had marked.

“Uhm… a bike store by the looks of it.” He clicked on it. “But they closed two hours ago.”

By the time they reached the bike store, Tim was tired. They still had a long way to go. Plagg looked at his holder seriously. “How much cash do you have left?”

“75 or so bucks. Why?”

Plagg pointed at the store. It sold higher end bikes.

“Even if it was open, there’s no way any bike in there is that cheap.”

Plagg popped inside the store quickly, disabling the cameras, and returned to Tim. “I can solve that little problem. Cataclysm.”

He touched the glass, disintegrating it. “Take your pick kid.”

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” Tim glanced around quickly before following Plagg inside.

“Would you rather call your parents or that nanny to pick you up and admit where you go at night?”

“…No.” Tim found a bike, a beautiful red one that was similar enough to the one that had been stolen that night that his parents wouldn’t notice. It was $650.

“But I don’t have enough money Plagg.” Even the ones on sale were still $150. None of them were red.

Plagg gave him a look that clearly said, ‘do I need to repeat myself?’

Tim rushed over and slipped the money he did have under the register drawer, making it look like it had fallen out or gotten jammed at some point, and then took the red bike that would be the least likely to get him in trouble.

He felt a bit bad about it, but their insurance would cover it, right? …Right?

He did love the bike. And he was home within an hour.

~~~~

Tim clasped his hands over his ears. His parents were fighting. Loudly. He just wanted it to stop. The fights were happening more and more often. At least, as far as he knew they were. They were fighting every time they were home.

Why couldn’t they just get along?

“Let’s get out of here kitten,” Plagg suggested softly.

Anything was better than here.

He ended up in a park downtown.

“You can let it out, y’know. It’s okay,” Plagg prodded.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tim denied badly as he picked up a stick and began whacking the tree it had fallen from. He wasn’t going to cause any damage to it, but it let him vent out his frustrations.

After a minute, Plagg piped in, “You’re holding it wrong. You want to hold here, and here,” he said as he flew to the spots, making him hold it like a bo staff rather than the terrible sword hold he had been using. And if Plagg gave him a few more hints about how to use his miraculous weapon over the course of that evening, well, all the better for Tim in the future when he finally needed to know what it was he had power over.

They were out far longer than they should have been, considering his parents would still be awake, but it was cathartic for Tim. It was clear to Plagg that Tim needed to find outlets for his frustration and disappointment before he drowned in it.

If his parents ever missed Tim, they never said anything. He had gone out all night alone, and they hadn’t even noticed.

That hurt Tim more than any yelling could. Not for the first time, Plagg debated just cataclysming them. 

~~~~

Plagg no longer had to twist Tim’s arm to go out. They went out whenever Tim had finished his homework, whether his parents were home or not.

They were on the west side of town when an alarm rang out into the night. Tim quickly climbed the nearest fire escape in an attempt to get out of the way of whatever was going on. They made it to the top just in time to see Batman crash into the building’s first floor window and Robin to enter in from the other side on the second floor.

Gunshots rang out, and Tim ducked down on the roof. Plagg hovered in front of him. He vaguely wondered if Plagg could protect him from something like a bullet. He stayed hidden with his head tucked down until it was quiet and the police arrived.

The two heroes exited the building, towing the crooks behind them to greet the police.

“That was so cool!” Tim exclaimed. “We actually got to see Batman and Robin in action!”

Plagg scoffed. “Bullets taste disgusting. Can we go get some cheese now?” Plagg asked once the coast was clear, and the police and heroes had left. Tim missed that Plagg had literally eaten a bullet for him.

After that, Tim took up stalking the heroes like a cat dressed in whatever black clothes he had in his closet. He prowled the rooftops, jumping over the small gaps whenever he could. His steps echoed to Plagg’s ears, though he expected that he was quiet enough for the heroes not to notice him. Plagg thought his kitten was cute, imitating other cats and walking around on his tip-toes.

Plagg offered him ways to be quieter and not be noticed. He wasn’t sure how they would take to being followed all the time, and wanted to prevent it.

Tim took his parent’s fancy camera that they usually used when they went on vacation to take pictures of the local vigilantes. With Plagg’s tips on prowling, Tim went unnoticed by all – including his parents.

~~~~

Tim’s ninth birthday was spent with Plagg at the arcade. He and the cat went to a fancy restaurant and ordered a piece of cheesecake and a gigantic piece of very fancy chocolate cake to go. They ate together in a small park.

It was the best birthday Tim had in the past few years.

It almost made him forget that his parents weren’t even in town.

~~~~

It didn’t take Tim very long following the bats around to see Robin do a quadruple flip that the Flying Graysons were known for. He had seen them do one on that fateful night when they had died.

“Dick Grayson is Robin!” he whisper-yelled excitedly to Plagg. He took the little cat by his paws and swung him around in a happy circle. “It’s so cool! That must mean Bruce Wayne is Batman!”

When they finally got home that night, Tim pulled up everything he could find about the two of them that he could. By the time morning rolled around, he was sure. He knew the bats identities. He spun his chair around excitedly, whooping in glee.

“Timothy, can you come here please?” his mother’s voice rang out from the other side of his door.

“Coming.”

His mother led him to the office, where his father was sitting at his desk.

“Tim, have you seen our camera anywhere? We need it for our next trip.”

The camera he had taken weeks before. The camera currently sitting with a roll of evidence of the Batman’s identity.

There was no way he was handing that over.

“I’m not sure. I haven’t seen it,” he lied.

“Are you sure?” his mother asked, prompting him for the truth.

“Yep. Maybe you lost it on your last trip?” he suggested.

“Maybe. It’s too bad. We had some shots of Peru that I would have loved to look at again,” she replied sadly. “We should go back, Jack. Take some new ones together.”

Tim wanted to feel bad for stealing the camera and lying about it, but it seemed like they missed their camera more than they missed him. He had originally just set out to borrow it, but now? Now it was his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Linny drew this for me when I mentioned I was writing Cat Miraculous Tim. Go check out her other stuff on tumblr: @jun03001

Chapter Text

He really should screen his clients better, Tim thought to himself. The painting was for the local chapter of the Court of Owls. He hated working with Owls. A bunch of creepy, social elites in weird white masks, pretending they were more powerful than they really were. He could easily just destroy the building and kill them all. Well, all of them except the even more creepy Talon in the corner who was glancing around the room suspiciously. Worse, he hated dealing with the Talons. He’d had to take a few out over the years with cataclysm, as the buggers refused to just stay down.

He would way rather work for the League of Assassins. They were nosy bastards, but at least they kept to their deals. It wasn’t like they could find anything on him. Even his DNA, voice, and fingerprints were altered in his Stray form. He’d used Drake Medical in order to check before he got in too deep.

They couldn’t trace him either. He had made a dodgy raid on the Batcave one night during a Joker attack, and taken as much stuff as he could without Bruce noticing. They had spares of everything. Their storeroom (which was really just a cave offshoot) was full of it. It was all too easy to get in. Plagg had gone in ahead of him and found the entrance and the trigger for it, and then had come out the Batmobile exit. Add Plagg’s infinite storage pocket (that he claimed was actually an alternate dimension or folding of space or something. He’d been 12 when it was explained, and he didn’t want to admit he had forgotten to the tiny cat god), and Tim was able to take everything he needed all at once. He had his own mini Batcomputer that they had tweaked and protected with Plagg’s magic. It was kept in the storage space when he wasn’t actively using it, so no one could hack it unless it was in use. It was all very convenient.

He watched as the group checked the painting he had propped up against a crate to see if it was the real deal. Obviously, it was. He had a reputation to uphold after all.

The Talon hovered around the room looking for anything that would lead them to, well, him. Even if they did find him, it wasn’t as if they could find out his identity. No one knew about the miraculous. No one could see through the glamour unless they already knew the truth.

Satisfied with what they saw, he saw them put the bag on the table and follow his instructions. Count out the bills, out loud (where he could see them) in front of the webcam he had set up as a decoy.

“Sir, why don’t we just take it? Stray is not here to claim the money,” a woman’s voice whispered. If he hadn’t had his superior hearing, he likely would have missed it.

“Stray has eluded the Batman for years. Do you really want to find out what they are capable of?” a man retorted, his voice flat with boredom.

She shook her head.

‘Good little prey. Behave – or discover how sharp this cat’s claws are,’ Tim thought to himself.

He’d never actually had to do more than evade or collapse the odd thing over the years. Some of those ‘accidents’ he and Plagg caused did end up with a few scumbags in the hospital, but Gotham had been better off for it. The Rogues vouching for him tended to stop others from trying to double cross him. Plagg had taught him to fight over the years, but he hadn’t had much chance to use the skills.

“Why this one, sir?” The woman must be determined to piss off the man as she spoke again.

His response was short but more emotional than Tim would have expected. “It was my wife’s favourite.”

They left hastily after another one counted the last of the bills.

Fabulous. Now he could go back and swipe the statue he had seen.

~~~~

Tim was 10 years old when he ran into trouble that he couldn’t get out of.

He had been following Robin on patrol when he was jumped. This time, there was no way for Plagg to help. They were too close. They would see him. There was no way Tim was risking his best friend.

He grabbed a nearby garbage can lid and used it to block a hit from the first guy. It didn’t work very well, and it twisted his wrist a bit as the punch landed. The other man managed to land a hit on his shoulder from behind.

It made his left arm useless.

Not that he stood much of a chance with two very, very large adults. He was still rather small for his age, and he took a breath as he realised that he didn’t have a chance. He couldn’t escape. He couldn’t even try to run. He couldn’t even throw a punch with one arm.

He was going to die in that damn alley.

He tried to kick one of them back, but they grabbed his foot and flipped him. He landed hard on his back, winding him. They began wailing on him and he cried out in pain.

They weren’t even trying to steal from him. They were just beating him up. He couldn’t understand why. Had he just been in the wrong place at the wrong time with someone who needed to take their bad mood out on anyone unlucky enough to come by?

A kick to his spleen. Another to his hip. He tried to sit up. A punch to the face.

He closed his eyes and waited for it to be over, a silent goodbye to Plagg whispered in his mind.

And then it stopped.

“Aaah!” One of the men shouted.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” a voice came from behind him.

Tim didn’t even have the energy to lift his head again to see who it was. He collapsed on the ground.

A few screams of pain later and Robin was lifting Tim up. Tim cringed a bit as he was moved to a sitting position. “Robin?”

“Hey kid. Good to see you back with me. You okay?”

“Uhm. My stomach. It hurts.”

Robin turned a look of concern on him. It was more concern than he had ever seen from his parents. He was examining his injuries when he said, “Do you want me to take you to a hospital?”

“No. No. I’m just sore. I’ll be fine.” He added, “Really,” when Robin looked like he didn’t believe him. Looking down, Tim could see the angry red marks forming. Nothing felt broken, just badly bruised. He would likely be purple by the time he got home.

“At least let me take you home?”

“I can make it on my own.” Tim was being stubborn. Robin would insist on taking him to his parents. Then they would know he had been out. He would be forced to admit why he was out and what he was doing. Robin and Batman would know he was following them and that he knew their secret. It wasn’t an option. It was far better he limped home slowly.

“At least let me help you up…” Robin grabbed Tim gently around the waist after he had nodded, maintaining his grip until Tim looked like he could stand and walk fine on his own.

Tim saw a stack of batarangs sticking out of Robin’s utility belt. He grabbed one, slipping it into his pocket. He never did get that show when he was younger at the circus. And it wasn’t like he could ask for the autograph.

“Do you at least live nearby?” His voice was still dripping with concern.

“Yeah. Yeah. Just a few blocks over. I’ll be fine,” he lied.

“Okay.” He frowned at Tim, but let him go. “Stay safe, kid.” He shot his grappling hook out and returned to the rooftops for his patrol.

Tim could hear him radio the police to pick up the men he had tied up before disappearing over the rooftops.

Tim hobbled over to where he had left his bike, trying his best to look like it didn’t hurt and that he was ‘just fine.’

He tried to clamber onto it, but let out a yelp of pain. He hadn’t realised how badly his hip had been hit until he tried to really move it. He pushed forward anyways and got on this time. He tried to push off, but nothing happened. The pedals weren’t moving. Now that he looked at it, the back wheel looked a bit off. Something in it had broken. He tried again, but finally had to admit defeat. He crumpled up against the wall of the building beside him, tears forming at the corners of his eyes.

“What am I going to do Plagg?” he cried out in desperation. Robin was likely long gone by now.

Plagg popped out of his pocket and looked sadly at his holder. He didn’t have any healing magic.

“But I finally got to see Robin up close again! And he saved me! It was so heroic. I wish I could do stuff like that.”

Plagg had heard this speech multiple times in the past month alone. All the hero worship and flat out obsession was getting a bit irritating. ‘Tim has more power sitting on his finger than Batman or Robin would know what to do with,’ he thought bitterly.  He hadn’t brought it up because Tim was still a kid. He didn’t want him getting hurt taking on more than he could manage.

The best he could do would be to supplement his strength and numb the pain long enough for the kid to get home.

But maybe that was enough for now. He didn’t have to tell the kid about the rest just yet.

“I can help you.” Plagg flew in front of the kid’s face to get his attention.

“How? I don’t need anything destroyed. My bike is already ruined.”

“Heh. I can do more than just destroy things kid. I can give you powers.”

Tim perked up, despite his pain. “Powers?” His voice was a little too enthusiastic.

“Yeah. For now though, let’s just get you home, huh?” He went on to explain how his powers worked; “Claws out,” “Claws in,” and how to extend the staff and retract it so he could leap full buildings with minimal effort. That the suit would supplement his muscles, so even if he did have some pain, they wouldn’t work so hard to get the same result. It would protect him from further injury. He didn’t mention that he could use cataclysm too. He was just too young.

“Ready?”

“Hell yeah!” Tim cheered and a grin spread across his face despite the pain. “Plagg, Claws Out!”

Tim was surrounded by green light as Plagg was sucked into the ring.

He twirled the staff around in his hand, suddenly aware of why Plagg had made him change his handhold on that stick all those months ago.

He grinned as he pushed the button and it became a regular length staff. He tested it out a couple of times before pushing the button harder, launching himself from the ground up to the rooftop above him, taking his bike over his good shoulder with him.

It was a rush. It was amazing.

He did it again, vaulting over several rooftops at once, letting out a giant whoop as he went. “Whoo-hoo!”

~~~~

Tim traipsed into the kitchen the following morning. He was still in a decent amount of pain from the night before, but he could walk normally, and his shoulder had full range of motion again. Plagg had done something to it when they had returned home that made a giant popping sound that had really hurt, and he said something about putting it back in place – but Tim wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Tim! What happened?!” his mother cried out as he walked to the fridge.

He had forgotten they were home. He had a gigantic bruise on his face from the night before. At least they couldn’t see his chest or stomach – which were littered with bruises. He was lucky their blows hadn’t broken anything (Plagg was insisting that he might have a fracture with how his breathing was a bit painful). Tim had looked it up online. The doctors couldn't do much for a fracture of that kind. Rest was about the only useful recommendation it had for him.

“Oh. I, uhh, fell off my bike yesterday. It looks worse than it is, I swear,” he lied. He was surprised at how easy it was to lie this time.

His father took his chin gently in his hand and turned it from side to side. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Any other injuries you’ve failed to mention?” he asked after a few tense moments.

Tim couldn’t meet his eyes as he said, “My shoulder hurt yesterday, but it feels fine now. And it… it hurts to breathe a bit…”

“Hospital. Now,” his mother interjected.

As they prepared the car and a briefcase of work to take up the time for what Tim overheard them saying, “would take forever with x-rays and all.”

“Listen kid,” Plagg whispered at him from his pocket as his parents bustled around the room. “You twisted the handlebar avoiding a rock and went over. You hit the bar with your chest and crashed into the road edge shoulder first, but hit your head after that. Got it?”

Tim gave a quiet hum of acknowledgement.

It was a good thing Plagg had primed him on what to say, because the doctor took one look at his stomach and chest and promptly asked, “So how does the other guy look?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir,” Tim replied quickly. “I fell off my bike.” He retold Plagg’s story almost word for word, embellishing a bit.

“Hmm… I could have sworn you had been in a fight, but that would account for all of those bruises,” the doctor seemed hesitant to believe him, but had no proof of otherwise.

It turned out to be a good thing he had gone. He actually had a tiny fracture on two of his ribs, but nothing dangerous. The doctor taped them up and sent them on their way after five hours of x-rays and waiting.

His parents were in a terrible mood the entire way home. The moment they pulled into the garage, his father went directly to his, admittedly broken, bike. It just needed a new wheel. An easy fix. It did seem to fit with Plagg’s story though, so that was good, and he had made sure to say that he had been biking close enough to home to make it believable that he had dragged the thing back despite his injuries.

“Can we get it fixed?” he asked. He was a bit nervous they would notice it wasn’t the bike that was originally given to him. “Or can I get a new one?”

“Fix it?” his mother looked at him incredulously. “Why would we fix it? Lock the damn thing up. He clearly isn’t ready for a bike yet.”

His father took one look at it and tossed it in his gun locker.

“What? No! You can’t do that! How else am I supposed to get to school?”

“Good point. Tim, you’re grounded until further notice. That includes school. We’ll call in sick for you. You need time to heal. There’s no way you’re going to school looking like that.”

He would almost feel touched for the concern if it hadn’t included the dig at how unsightly his face looked with a bruise. As if it was just another thing about him that was just not good enough. Shame. ‘Drakes don’t do this.’

His father continued, “Go to your room. Now.”

Tim slammed his bedroom door and flopped onto his bed – an action he quickly regretted with his ribs.

“What am I going to do now Plagg?” He was trapped here. Again.

“We can always go get your bike. Or you can just use the transformation and we can travel that way. It was faster anyways, right?” Plagg pat him gently on the shoulder.

Tim nodded glumly, but liked the idea of using the transformation again. It had been fun. Freeing.  

Outside his door he could hear his parents arguing about him.

“It must be those rotten kids at school. Our Timothy never acted like this before.”

“All those skateboard riding hooligans and BMX biker brats. It’s only a matter of time before he winds up in the hospital with something worse!”

“But is that really necessary? It seems a bit drastic,” his mother commented.

“Got any better ideas Janet?”

Their voices trailed away as they walked by.

The only thing it did for Tim was make him want to get a skateboard.

Chapter Text

Tim had to wait a few days for museum security to relax. The missing painting had caused them all to go on high alert. Police had shut down the museum for a full day as they looked for clues. Tim knew they would find nothing. If by some miracle they did (which was literally impossible because the suit Tim and Plagg had designed altered his appearance and DNA, so even if he lost a strand of hair, it wouldn’t lead back to him), Plagg could always sneak in and destroy it.

The police systems were all too easy to hack into. It didn’t even take him five minutes.

Nothing. They had nothing. He searched their systems for even a vague reference to him. No evidence locker tags noted in the system, so they had nothing to tie him to it physically. Logs only indicated that the surveillance cameras were jammed in place. A report stating that the museum was waiting for new ones to be delivered. Handy. No fingerprints or DNA on file. No analyses waiting to be run. They were stumped.

The thought that some American cat burglar had taken it never seemed to cross their minds, despite it bearing his trademark of being spotless.

He had won.

~~~~

Tim had been grounded indefinitely. No bike. They had locked it up. Sure, Plagg could help him get it out easily, but his parents were around, and Tim didn’t want to risk them checking and seeing it was missing. He didn’t bring up repairing the bike either, as he didn’t want to risk them checking the safe and seeing that money was missing. He had stolen over five thousand dollars from them at this point. Sure, it had been slowly over the past two years, but they would likely notice that much gone. He made a mental note to grab enough to buy a skateboard and a new bike, just to mentally piss them off. He couldn’t help but see how hypocritical they were being. They wanted him to be all prim and proper, but wouldn’t even spend time with him. No, if they wanted their little boy to behave, they would have to pay attention. He fumed as he was locked in his room.

He could do without the bike. Plagg was willing to let him use his powers to travel while his parents were actually home, and it was so much fun to just run on the rooftops and vault from high building to high building that even Batman and Robin couldn’t do.

Once Tim had started feeling better and his ribs had healed, they had started going out again. Tim knew now that the suit was able to protect him from most falls. He decided he would try to do some of the moves he had seen Robin (Dick Grayson!!) performing before. To his absolute delight, the suit was able to enhance his muscles, and he was able to do the quadruple flip that the Graysons were known for.

Eventually, the housekeeper let him wander the grounds, only for him to discover that his parents had left again without saying goodbye. Mrs. Mac swore that they would only be gone two nights this time, but Tim was mad.

In his anger, he and Plagg broke into the safe yet again, and stole a stack of bills from the bag. That night, he went and bought a new bike, and a skateboard while he was at it. All the cool kids had skateboards anyways, right?

To his deep surprise, his parents actually did return two nights later. Tim hadn’t bothered to hide the new bike in time. Thankfully, the skateboard was under his bed.

They entered the foyer to the new bike, that was clearly not his old one (or the older one that they thought he was still using), as this one was a bright, shiny blue.

“Timothy, where did you get this?” his mother asked angrily.

“A... friend let me borrow it?” he lied badly in his surprise. While his skills for jumping on rooftops, fighting with a staff, and learning how to pick locks and safes was drastically increasing, apparently his ability to lie still needed a lot of work.

“Which one?” his father looked disappointedly at him, his voice tinged with sadness and a hint of anger.

“Ahh..A-Alex?” He didn’t know anyone named Alex.

Both of his parents looked at him with glares.

Busted.

“Where did you get the money, Tim?” his father asked, the sadness gone, and anger now the only emotion Tim could see.

“I used some of my birthday money.” They hadn’t given him anything but a message that money was put into his trust fund for his birthday. He had no idea if he could access any of that, but it was better than anything else he could say.

They looked at each other, and his mother pointed down the hall. “Room. Now.”

He was barely left alone for the next week. His parents spent a lot of time on the phone.

It didn’t take long to find out why.

His father approached him with a piece of paper. He looked at it briefly. A pamphlet. Brentwood Academy in Bristol. He hadn’t heard of it.

“What is this?” he finally had to ask.

“Your new school. You clearly cannot be trusted here, and you need somewhere that can supervise you twenty-four-seven. We found the missing money, Tim.”

Shit.

~~~~

When they arrived at Brentwood Academy, Tim was still fuming over his parent’s reason for him needing to go to a boarding school – needing supervision. Clearly it had never occurred to either of them that, as parents, they were supposed to supervise him.

Tim’s new school wasn’t far from Gotham. Bristol was just one town over, and he could easily get back with his transformation.

His parents had told his school nothing about why he was there, that was for sure. There was no way they would announce that the Drake family had a bad egg.

“Ah! Mr. Drake!” the school dean, Mr. A. Nederlander according to the sign outside his door, greeted them as they entered his office.

His parents had forced him to wear his most stuck-up outfit they could shove him in. They were dressed to the nines.

He hung back as they shook hands, really not wanting to be here.

“This must be young Timothy.” The dean moved towards him with a smile, his hand extended in greeting.

Tim shook it unwillingly. “Tim.”

“Okay, Tim.” He gestured for Tim to take a seat, as he and Tim’s parents went over rules and finances. Tim was entering in the middle of a school year, and according to the dean, they were ‘lucky’ that the school had a few empty rooms still.

Tim tuned the conversation out, playing with the memory card from the camera that was stashed in his pocket. He’d had to return the camera, hiding it in a box so that his parents thought it was just missing. He really didn’t feel like dealing with the punishment for that too. They had been assuming that anything missing around the house was now his fault. Sure, they were right in most of the cases, but he wasn’t going to admit that. His parents had found the skateboard as they had cleaned out his room. His mind flashed to them finding it. His father had been livid, as they had found the money missing only the day before. It had been a disaster. They had taken his computer away along with it, though he would have access to it again for school here.

He would just need to get a new camera, and a new skateboard.

The biggest rule that the school had (that Tim paid attention to at least) was that curfew was at 8pm. They would be locked into Totley Hall at that point. His room was on the top floor. Ideal for not being able to sneak out, if you were a normal kid.

Tim was not a normal kid.

Tim made friends in class easily enough, but none of them were what he would call ‘close.’ Not like Plagg was with him. Plagg was his best friend. He was the reason Tim was still alive and hadn’t died in that alley. It was hard to relate to the other kids who just worried about their math homework when he could go out in a magical suit.

He was still mad at his parents a few weeks later. He snuck out almost every night. Their shoving him out of their lives and into a boarding school was just plain insulting, and Tim decided to take it out on the world, with encouragement from Plagg.

The first night there he stayed in, making sure that the dorm supervisors wouldn’t check past lights out. They didn’t. So the second night, Tim went out with Plagg.

The problem was, he no longer had any access to money. He couldn’t steal from his parents anymore, as they had made sure to count it all.

So when he went to the sporting goods store, Gerelli’s, he looked longingly at the boards. He had just begun to get good enough that he didn’t fall when trying to turn.

“What do I do Plagg?” he asked, his voice small. “I hardly have any money anymore.”

His stealing had always been with family. Even that bike he had stolen, he had at least paid what he could. And when he had taken the second, he had made up for it by leaving more than needed to make up for the first one.

“Well, you could go back to that school… or, just take the board.”

He thought of his parents yelling at him and taking his things away. He had almost nothing now.

His brows set into a frown. “Can you get rid of the window and cameras like before?”

“Only if we go get my cheese after this. That school stuff is awful.” Tim nodded in agreement, forgetting that he had no money to pay for the cheese either. Plagg cackled and flew through the glass, disintegrating it as he went. He pushed the cameras to the side, so Tim wouldn’t show on it.

A few minutes later, skateboard under foot and the pitiful amount of money that Tim had left tucked under the cash register, Tim rolled down the streets of Gotham towards a grocery store. He distracted the cashier by asking directions to a nearby hotel, pretending he was lost and had been separated from his parents (he knew it wasn’t that original, but it worked), while Plagg zipped along the floor, taking Tim’s backpack with him. He knocked as much cheese as he could off the shelf and dragged the now heavy bag back underneath the till.

Tim thanked the poor woman for her time and took off, his bag now weighing a lot more than it did when he entered.

Tim felt a bit guilty about it, but Plagg had really done the stealing, not him.

His eyes caught a flash of movement on the rooftops a block down. Vigilantes. “Now I just need a camera.”

He didn’t dare take one that night – not with Batman or Robin nearby.

A task for another night.

~~~~

The following night found Tim and Plagg at an electronics store. Tim had looked up which one he wanted in advance, which was good, because no sooner had he grabbed the thing, then sirens wailed.

There had been a silent alarm.

“Quick kid, transform. Let’s get out of here.”

Tim called on the transformation and he vaulted himself over the street onto a nearby roof. When he was a safe distance away, he tucked the camera into Plagg’s limitless storage pocket.

His night vision and cat hearing picked up additional interference. The vigilantes were on route too.

He leaped over a few more buildings and detransformed, sitting himself on a fire escape to watch. The camera had stayed in the pocket. Tim wished it hadn’t, as he had never been so close to Batman and Robin in costume before, but it was probably for the best.

Robin had paused at the rooftop across the street, and looked right at him. “You should head inside kid,” Dick Grayson said to him. “It’s not safe.”

It was clear that he didn’t recognize Tim. He probably rescued too many people to pay attention to faces.

Tim did listen to the advice after he was sure they had left. The night had been far too close for comfort.

Back in his room, Tim looked at the camera, guilt coming over him. But he needed the camera, or, well, that’s what he told himself. He could give the store money whenever he got some next. Right?

“The Bat and Bird you admire so much sure were clueless tonight!” Plagg congratulated him. “You did good kid. Acting natural rather than running away. Perfect!”

Tim couldn’t help but smile at Plagg’s praise. He had outsmarted them.

“You could be even better than them, you know. You’re already smarter. And with me, kid, you can be faster and stronger too. With a way cooler gadget.”

Chapter Text

Tim scoped out the miraculous statue from behind a rather large couple that were gawking at the caution tape. The entire section was blocked off currently, but a sign said it would be available back to the public in a few days.

“I wonder what happened?” the man said to his companion.

“Oh who knows? Let’s move on. There was an amazing painting in the brochure I wanted to see.”

Tim moved out of their way before they could collide with him, and paused in front of the area himself. There was a guard nearby.

Looked like he would have to wait a few more days for them to relax – lull them into a false sense of security.

Then it would be his.

~~~~

Plagg encouraged him getting out, and Tim rarely spent the night in his dorm in Totley Hall. The bags under Tim’s eyes grew as he barely slept, going out so often.

His acting out at school started small. He wouldn’t admit that the reason behind it, like all of his actions so far, had been from wanting his parent’s attention. Them shoving him out of their lives and into boarding school had been the last straw. He started to hate school. He was good at it, sure, but his contempt for the classroom grew. He slept during class to make up for the time he was out at night. He skateboarded down the halls. He didn’t put on his uniform properly. Nothing that ever earned him a detention.

Then his parents never showed up on the first parent visitation day.

He watched as his classmates and the closest things he could call to human friends at the school, Ali, Buzz, Chris, Danny, Jace, Wesley, and Kip, were all greeted by their families. He couldn’t help as the anger bubbled inside of him as he watched parents happy to reunite with their kids. His own parents’ absence was glaring, and his friends looked over at him a few times, concerned.

“Hey Tim, where are your parents?” Miss Bigelow, the Totley Hall director asked him kindly and clearly worried as he sulked.

His reply was bitter and short. “I guess they couldn’t come.” It wasn’t her fault, but he couldn’t help but to lash out at those around him.

She gave him a light pat on the back, which he supposed was meant to be supportive, but came off as condescending to his irritated brain. He tore his body out of her reach violently.

“I’m going to my room,” he bit back, leaving before he could be ruder to the woman.

Plagg popped out the second they were alone, the slam of Tim’s dorm room door closing echoing in the empty hallway.

Plagg tried very hard to look like he was disinterested in his holder’s mood as he did a flip in the air before suggesting, “You need an outlet kid.”

“Like what?” Tim threw his pillow across the room. He barely missed the lamp. He would have gotten in trouble for that one.

“Looks like you need a bit of destruction. Lucky for you, that’s my specialty.”

Tim looked around his room. He couldn’t afford to destroy anything there.

Plagg caught Tim’s glances. “There’s a time and place for it, kid. Your room isn’t it. Let’s go.”

Plagg popped into the ring with a few words from Tim, and Tim followed directions on the staff’s computer. He had led him to an abandoned building. In any other situation, it would have been pure stupidity to be there at that part of town as a child in the middle of night. It was asking to be killed or kidnapped. With Plagg, it was merely a fun outing.

When he got there, the ring started beeping. Tim had no clue what was going on. It had never done that before. Panicked, he called off the transformation, and out popped Plagg.

“What happened? The ring was beeping!”

Plagg grabbed a piece of cheese from Tim’s pocket. “Ah, not a problem kid, I just wanted you to detransform.” He popped it into the air before swallowing it whole and waited for his kid to just let it all out.

“I hate them! Why couldn’t they just come like everyone else?!” Tim screamed, now that he was away from all of the prying ears. Tim kicked a box nearby, hurting his foot. “Ow. Fuck!” He clutched at his foot, hopping around.

“This is what I meant. There’s a time and place. Random destruction isn’t going to do you or anyone else any good. You need to be selective.”

Tim spent the next hour learning how to punch and kick properly, with Plagg providing more guidance than Tim ever thought possible for the tiny floating alien cat.

“How do you know all this anyways?” Tim finally asked when he had burnt through all of the anger as he sat on the ground, leaning against one of the rather large crates in the room, panting and exhausted.

“Previous holders. Usually my ring is used to help make heroes, kid. Like I told you before, I’m not normally let out unless there’s a war or some world ending event.”

“So, what can you do?” he asked, more alert now and his interest peaked, as he moved closer to the tiny cat, jumping up onto the crate that he had hurt his foot on earlier and sitting down, his legs crossed.

“Well, you know about the enhanced hearing, the night vision, and the increased muscle strength – making you faster and stronger. You have a bit of it outside the suit too. The longer you’re a holder, the more you absorb some of that speed and strength as yourself.”

Tim nodded. He had noticed that he could run a bit farther now without being winded as quickly. He had just chopped it up to being older. Coach Romali, the school soccer coach, had commented about him being fast one day. Tim hadn’t thought much about it.

“But I also have a power. Cataclysm. You know how I can disintegrate the windows and stuff? How I’ve made things disappear for you?”

“Yeah…” His mind flashed to all the windows he had demolished. They had appeared in the news. Mysterious missing windows. No evidence left behind. Cameras down with weird electrical errors that tech support couldn’t understand. Nothing missing (so far as anyone could figure, as Tim only took the one thing and left cash), but some weird banking and inventory errors where clearly someone had miscalculated. It had all worked out well. Far too well. It was a mystery that the cops couldn’t solve.

“Well you can do that too if you want. My ring grants powers, not just some fancy transformation. You just have to call it out. It’s dangerous though, kid. Don’t do it unless you have to. Whatever you touch with your ring hand dies.”

Tim gasped. He’d had all that power all this time?

“Can I try?” Tim touched the ring on his finger hesitantly.

“Sure, but I’ll need to recharge before we head back first. Got extra cheese in there?”

Tim nodded. “So I just say ‘cataclysm?’”

“Yep. But be careful. It’ll activate if you mean to say the word or not. And always be careful what you destroy, kid. It won’t come back. We would need another miraculous for that, and we don’t have Tikki.”

Tim turned to the offending crate with a grin. Revenge for his foot.

“Time and place kid. What’s in the crate?”

Tim gave Plagg a look of confusion.

“What if it’s something you could use? Medical supplies?”

“Oh.” He blushed. He hadn’t thought of that.

They opened up the crate. It was full of a white powder. Tim had no clue what it was. Plagg, however, glared at it, his eyes glinting dangerously in the darkened warehouse.

“Drugs. Feel free to get rid of it. Be a hero tonight.”

“Really? A hero? Like Robin?”

Plagg scoffed. “Better than that. We found something they didn’t. Maybe even preventing something huge. Let’s check the other crates.”

More of the same. It was a major drug bust.

“Just run your finger along it, kid, but do it quickly, or the magic will end.”

Tim watched as the four boxes of drugs disintegrated before his eyes, much like the windows had done for Plagg in the past. “Cool.”

~~~~

Tim hadn’t gone out to observe Batman for a few weeks now. Robin had been out for a while, making headlines with the Titans, and he had no desire to watch Bruce without Dick around. He and Plagg had gone to stalking around the warehouse district after that night. Tim began to want to emulate the little cat and his previous holders, and began to watch videos of Catwoman online. She slunk around like a cat, invisible most of the time.

There was no reason he couldn’t do that too right?

Perhaps that was how he found himself following Catwoman around Gotham one night a few days later. He had discovered that Plagg’s powers helped him to walk almost soundlessly through the Gotham skyline, and the natural black of his suit kept him visually hidden in the shadows. He watched her slink inside the security systems of homes, coming and going, and stealing, as she pleased.

Even Batman seemed to have issues finding and tailing her most of the time.

He was following her one night when he was taken off guard. He had seen the papers. Dick had moved to Bludhaven with a new identity. Nightwing. It was only too obvious. That Dick had taken up a role in the Bludhaven police department around the same time was the last nail in the coffin. Dick Grayson was now Nightwing, and had moved on from Gotham. He wasn’t sure how others hadn’t realised this. It was only too obvious now.

However, this knowledge meant that when Batman showed up with Robin, Tim had a hard time getting to cover in time. He had not been expecting it.

One quick look at the boy was enough for Tim to be able to tell.

This wasn’t Tim’s Robin.

This was someone else.

As he cowered behind an apartment vent, he looked closely at the boy. Older than him, though that wasn’t hard as Tim was still only eleven. Clearly Robin was new at this, as he was still struggling with his grappling hook. It was obviously his first night out.

Tim called it a night early that night. Too many people were out, and while watching Batman and the new Robin chase down Catwoman was entertaining, he was more likely to get caught.

Tim ducked into his room and used the computer on his staff to search Bruce Wayne anonymously, magically protected from anyone tracking his searches. Hundreds of posts came up instantly, but only one more recent one caught his eye.

Bruce Wayne had adopted.

Jason Peter Todd.

Robin 2.0.

~~~~

“You’re better than that kid, even without my help,” Plagg scoffed at the red, yellow and green clad figure that ran past him on the perch where Tim was sitting eating a snack he had brought from his dorm while Plagg charged up and ate some cheese Tim had saved from his sandwich at lunch.

“I don’t know, I’ve never had to really fight before. He seems to know what he’s doing.”

It had been a few weeks, and he had seen Jason Todd beat the living crap out of men twice his size several times now.

Plagg had been pushing for a while now that Tim was better than he thought he was. “You have more talent in you than most of my holders did as adults. We should put it to use. Try something. Best the Bat and his stupid new Robin.”

“I don’t want to die, thanks.”

“Hah. Then be better than the wannabe cat girl.”

Tim thought it was funny. Plagg was horribly offended by Catwoman’s pure existence. He considered her imitation of his suit and moniker an insult to himself and all of his previous (and current) holders.

“Alright, alright. I’ll do it.” Tim appeased him, not truly understanding what he was agreeing to.

“Yes! Now… what to steal.” He floated upside down for a bit. “You were complaining about needing a new computer, right? Go get one of those.”

Tim thought for a bit. It was far more expensive than the things he had taken in the past. He would have no way to ever repay it.

It would just be plain theft.

He thought back to the other heists. They had been clean. No one knew it was him, and he hadn’t been caught. The suit protected him and his identity.

He could do it, but it was risky.

“I triple kitty dare you.”

Tim shuddered. Losing a triple kitty dare with Plagg meant that he had to eat brie if he lost. He hated the stuff. 

Plus, it would make Plagg happy.

“Okay. I’ll do it.”

Later that night, Tim dodged Bats and Birds, finding himself in the store. He looked hungrily at the computer game that his classmates had been discussing nonstop during Mr. Charnov’s English class. He picked it up and added it to his stash.

It went off flawlessly, and Tim had himself a new, top of the line laptop, and a new game to boot.