Archive of Our Own ^beta

Batman was down in the cave, listening to Robin go through a set of warm-ups before launching himself into whatever work-out routine he'd devised for the week. Batman had tried to set up a work-out routine for him, feeling that that was the sort of thing a parent or guardian should be doing for their child. After four days, Robin had declared his ideas were boring, and went back to making up his own based on his routines from the circus, as well as a group of moves he said was from one of the cartoons he watched on Saturdays. All Bruce was able to do was over-see it, and forbid anything that seemed too dangerous. It mostly worked.

Bruce had installed all sorts of gymnastics equipment in one area of the cave, off to one side and more or less out of the way, but Robin only used it part of the time. The rest of the time he was flying and bouncing off anything within reach, excepting only the Bat-computer -- after the incident where he'd landed on the keyboard, hitting exactly the right key combination to make the computer reset to factory settings.

It took nine hours for the Bat-computer to reboot and for Batman to re-install everything from his back-up drives. Robin had spent the time carefully marking the area around the Bat-Computer with red tape and the words 'Do Not Cross.' He'd also been required to read through an entire beginner's user manual on Linux so, if it happened again, he could help with restoring the computer files.

Since then, Robin had been pretty good about staying away from things he really, really, really should not break and staying more or less on the equipment that had been installed for the purpose. He didn't always use the equipment the way it was designed to be used, but he had never fallen off it or injured himself, so Bruce was calling it a win. Robin stayed active, entertained, and wouldn't need Batman to get up and spar with him for at least another half hour. Afterwards, hopefully, a nice big dinner and exhaustion would send the kid to sleep.

Batman kept track of Robin's narration of whatever activity he was currently under-going -- it sounded like he was fighting imaginary pirates, which Gotham had never had a problem with. It was Gotham, however, so one could never really say 'never.' One of the pirates sounded like it was a giant porcupine, and two others might have been velociraptors. Or geese. Batman finished up the notes from their last case, and he turned in his chair.

Did he want to be a pirate and fight Robin, or fight along-side him as whatever pirate-fighting crusaders they were? Robin preferred if he picked his character before wading into the fray. For some reason "I'm Batman" was never acceptable. How was it boring to fight along-side Batman, he wanted to know, but knew well enough not to get into an argument about because Robin always managed to win those arguments.

There was a flash of blue light, and Robin disappeared.

In his place was a man, dressed in a black and blue costume, armed with escrima sticks in holsters on his back, and wearing a simple domino mask across his eyes. The man grinned.

Holy time travel, Batman thought to himself. He knew that grin.

"B!" the man shouted, his voice older and deeper, but still very obviously Robin. He bounced to his feet and looked around, then stopped. "Huh. Oh, wow! The cave hasn't looked like this in forever!" He turned to face Batman, very clearly standing to show he was no threat. "Time travel, and I'm fine! Little me is in the future, will be for about seven hours, and he's safe. He's with people who know him, and will take very good care of him." Dick frowned, then said, "Well, unless there's another time travel event I don't remember. But I was just outside RH's place, and that's where I was when I was a kid in the future, so I'm pretty sure it's the same event."

"How do we get you switched back?" Batman didn't know if he was actually willing to take the man's word for it, but...this was definitely Dick Grayson, only older. His tone, his stance, and something he couldn't quite name -- perhaps the mischievous grin that Dick had apparently not out-grown. He wondered if older Bruce was as tired as he was. This child.

Although if Dick was standing here several years older then the boy who'd just vanished, it clearly meant Robin survived his encounter with the future and returned home to grow up.

Assuming the intruder wasn't an imposter? They didn't have any protocols set up for that; he made a mental note to do so, as soon as this got sorted out.

The man -- Dick -- nodded, like he'd just made the same observation. "We need protocols. I could tell you what we have in place now, but I feel like that would be cheating. Oh, except I do have something I should tell you! The woman who did this, T-- uh, RR.. um. Tiny computer genius kid is working on a case. The woman's name is Maxine Jarvis and she has a magic laser gun that is supposed to age or de-age people, but instead it swapped me with myself in the timeline. I have the info here," he said, pulling out a slip of paper from his pouch.

Did Dick still keep his homework on him, just in case? Well, by now he'd be in college. Grad school? Who would be helping him with grad school at this point? Of course, several of Gotham's Rogues had college degrees, themselves. He wondered if there was something about PhD programs that drove one to villainy.

Maybe he didn't want to know.

Dick was holding the paper out, and Batman forced himself to take it. It looked worn, like it had been folded for awhile. The information was very brief, Maxine Jarvis's name, address, and a description of her attempts to invent a de-aging gun. For what purposes, wasn't written down.

"I've been carrying that around with me, ever since certain other people got into position that I knew the event was possible. And I've been hanging out in certain places -- which RH has enjoyed so much, I cannot even begin to tell you -- so I'd be in position to swap. Well, and also because it's going to be hilarious, and I really appreciate the opportunity to spend time with my br-- person. Uh. Anyway! When RH lets you know little me is there, you'll know where to go to find Maxine and get the device and reverse it."

Dick held out his hands in a clear 'ta-da' gesture.

Huh.

Batman considered things for a moment. Then he looked at Dick. "So what do we do until you're switched back?"

"I can't risk changing the future," Dick said, and wow, why did Bruce feel like that wasn't even remotely true. "I could use some sleep, though. I've been up late every night for.. uh..." He counted on his hands. "The last three years. Is it okay if I just head up to bed for a nap?"

Batman thought about it. He thought about his child, in the future in the hands of someone he didn't know, but whom his child of that future clearly trusted. He thought about whether or not he believed any of this.

He thought about how he hadn't gotten a full night's sleep since... well. For the last three or four years.

A goddamn nap sounded amazing.

~ ~ ~

He was there in Dick's room, watching the young man sleep, when the flash of blue light came. Exactly when the older Dick had told him. Robin had been asleep when he appeared, but sat up quickly, blinking and looking around. He grinned as he recognised his room, and Bruce, and he leapt up into Bruce's arms.

"Guess where I was!" Dick shouted in his ear. "I fought zombies! A whole army of the undead! I killed their leader the head Zombie himself!!"

"That's amazing, Dick," Bruce said, hugging him tight and patting his back, surreptitiously looking for injuries. "Did they feed you dinner?"

"No, they only wanted me to eat BRAAAAAIIIIIINSSSSSSS!" Dick howled, letting his head fall backwards.

"All right, then, let's see if we have any brains in the kitchen."

Dick laughed, letting himself fall limply in Bruce's arms and be carried like a sack of potatoes downstairs. Bruce thought about his son from the future, sprawled in this very bed in the exact same limbs-akimbo that he'd always slept in.

Maybe the future wouldn't be too bad.

~ ~ ~

Jason crossed his arms to prevent himself from punching Dickface again. He'd gotten it out of his system for now, but he was willing to go at it again if he didn't like Dick's answer. Maybe even if he did, because what the hell.

Bruce had finally left, leaving his henchgoons with far too many ideas and suggestions for making the workplace safer, happier, and what benefits they ought to be receiving. As though Jason wasn't taking care of his people already!

Not like that, although yes fine sometimes like that, but also he paid fair wages! He offered bonuses and dental and PTO! Fuck him if he was still trying to figure out how to be a CEO instead of just a crime lord, without crawling back and asking his CEO father for help and advice. (He'd gotten a text from B, saying if he ever wanted a consult, he or Tim would be very happy to meet with him. Jason would just as soon go work for Black Mask as an entry-level minion.)

Right now he wanted answers from Dick, and so far Dick wasn't offering any.

Everything had settled down and everyone had gone on their way, or back to work, while Jason had dragged Dick up to his office to determine if the book Dickhead had thrown at him had been his actual signed copy or a decoy. Dick swore it was a decoy, and the signature inside was a forgery. They'd see about that, as the book in his hand had several torn pages and a ding in the cover.

He'd found his actual book safely where he'd left it, grudgingly (and silently) awarding his brother kudos for a well-played prank, then asked him what the actual fucking fuck had happened.

Turned out Dick remembered the whole thing, being a tiny child in Red Hood's warehouse, wreaking havoc and administering chaos and headaches galore. (Before being dragged upstairs, Dick had thanked Darlene for the pudding cup, and Darlene had glared at him. Maybe she'd be willing to shoot Nightwing on sight, finally.)

But. But he'd remembered. He knew. He'd never said anything.

"You didn't try to keep me alive, did you?" Jason asked him. "Didn't try to stop the Joker."

Dick deflated, leaning back against the closed door. He reached up and peeled off his mask, and looked at Jason with what looked like sincere regret. Maybe even defeat.

"I tried," Dick said.

What?

"I tried to stop him. I tried to stop him before you were ever Robin, I tried after, I--" He looked away, into nothing or the past or whatever he was seeing. "The first time I didn't actually know who you were until right after you returned, looking like this." He waved his hand at Jason.

Fucking what.

"The first time?"

Dick looked at him, and there was something in his eyes. He looked... old. Tired.

Resigned.

"I've tried seven times to save you. Each time....things just ended up worse." Dick rubbed his hands through his hair, sighing, only it sounded...broken. "The second time, I tried to get Clark to help and he died, which ended up with five other members of Justice League dying over the next couple of years. Do you know how many times they've saved the world? Afterwards, nobody was around who could step in and do the job as well as they could."

He stopped and Jason didn't know what the fuck to say. His brother looked haunted.

"The third and fourth times.... It got bad, Jaybird. Really bad. Anything I tried, it just tumbled, everything started going wrong. The fifth time I ended up wearing this horrible orange outfit. So I had to go back and try again."

What.

"What the fuck are you--"

Dick suddenly grinned at him, then laughed. Jason lunged for his throat. "I didn't know who you were! I got back and told Bruce I'd fought zombies, and over the years that's what I remembered! I didn't know any better until about a year ago, first time I visited you here and I realised that I recognised the place and some of the people."

"I'm going to fucking kill you!" Jason tried again to grab him, and the cheating fucker slipped out of reach. The office wasn't that big! How the fuck was he getting away?

"WHOOSH!" Dick shouted as Jason missed again. "Kapow!" Dick thumped him on the head, and not even hard.

"I hate you so fucking much," Jason said, pausing for a breather and to re-calculate his attack.

"You and your team members were so good to me," Dick said. "Almost as good babysitters as Egghead!"

The fuck-- "You were babysat by Egghead? What the hell, Dickface! He's a-- You are not comparing me to Egghead!" He lunged for Dick, plans and strategy forgotten, just the murderous intent to beat his brother's face in.

Dickface just laughed as he dodged, never moving far enough away that Jason could get a deep breath before throwing another punch. With a snarl, he pulled out a knife and just fucking stabbed him with it.

He was still wearing his Nightwing outfit, and Jason aimed for where the kevlar weave was thickest, so it didn't actually penetrate the fabric. But it probably would bruise really badly -- nicely, whatever, and Dick would be feeling it for a few days.

Dick stuck his tongue out at him.

Jason threw a book at his head -- then had a heart attack, because fuck him if that had been his real copy. He glanced around frantically, saw a second copy on his desk and checked it.

He saw green.