Chapter Text
Honestly, Tim’s really not surprised at this point. Not with Damian’s track record of disobeying orders and doing whatever he pleases. He is a little concerned that his little brother had dragged Jon into it though. Ever since their little escapade to another planet where they were trapped for almost an entire summer, he hadn’t let Jon touch anything remotely dangerous with a five foot pole. But that was weeks ago, and you can’t avoid things forever.
Maybe he thought it was finally time to try again, Tim just really wished he’d try something that wasn’t tagging along on Tim and Kon’s mission to infiltrate one of Joker's hidden hideouts. He and the rest of Gotham’s vigilantes had even gone the extra mile to make sure he wouldn’t get his hands on the location, but judging by the fact he was there now their efforts had been for nought.
It was supposed to be a simple data gathering mission, well, as simple as anything involving Joker could be. (Thankfully it was as if villains never learned anything, because the hideout was in an abandoned warehouse by the docks. Like literally every other hidden base ever).
The plan was seemingly perfect. Kon would fly up and enter through the roof, because ever since Batman’s no Meta rule was engaged their sky security had been lacking. From there he would keep an eye on the goons while Tim crept through the rafters and made his way to where Joker was supposedly storing important information that was said to later be used for another mass Arkum Asylum breakout. He had thought it would’ve been harder to find, but the giant computer with his face plastered all over it wasn’t as exactly subtle.
Tim dropped down beside it and slipped a Bat-USB stick (TM) into an outlet, and using his wrist computer he began hacking the system. Every once in a while he’d glance up at Kon, who would give an all clear. This cycle continued for a good ten or so minutes before something went wrong, as they usually did on such missions as this.
“D-Robin!” Tim’s whipped his head up to see Superboy shout as he crashed through the overhead windows alongside Robin, his younger brother. He cursed whatever god was watching over for the shitty luck he had to deal with and crouched back further into the shadows. If he was careful enough, he might be able to finish the download without being seen.
”Superboy?! Robin!” he heard Kon shout.
What is he doing?! Why is he compromising his position? Tim thought, frustration prickling up his neck. From his spot hidden behind the computer he couldn't see anything, so for Kon to be so stupid as to reveal himself was beyond him. It was bizarre to hear him so worried, but it was probably nothing. Then he heard it.
The cry of pain took him a moment to register, as it wasn’t one he heard often. In fact, Tim’s only ever heard it one other time, under completely different circumstances. When Dick died. That was… that was Damian. He scrambled up into a kneel, poking his head over the computer to see what was going on. His eyes were immediately drawn to the scene taking place in the middle of the room; Damian, on the ground and clutching his shoulder. Jon leaned over him, looking lost for what to do as Kon flew around holding the goons off. Worry wormed its way into Tim’s chest. How he wished he could go and help, grab Robin (because he could do that, Robin was so light in a way that he just shouldn’t be) and get him out of there.
He looked down at his wrist, where the download bar was almost complete. He prayed Kon could hold them off a little longer; until the data was secured and he could go help out. Not being able to assist was killing Tim but he had to get this done, he had to finish.
-DOWNLOAD COMPLEAT-
He nearly jumped as the flashing message appeared on his screen (if he wasn’t trained by the bat himself he probably would have), but quickly recovered. Tim grabbed the USB and tucked it safely in his utility belt as he leapt over the box he’d been tucked behind and into the Frey.
“Supernova!” He shouted, “Throw me!”
Kon flew over to him and lifted Tim by his forearms, clasping them tightly and tossing him up in the air. Being weightless was exhilarating, the uncertain feeling of not knowing if he’d land safely or not clutched at his soul. Wind rushed round him as he plummeted, Tim unhooked and expanded his Bowstaff as he used his knees to slam into the biggest enemy he could reasonably take. He could hear Jon using his heat vision to take out anyone who tried to get close, loyally guarding Damian as he lay vulnerable and trying to recover. Masks cracked under his fists, the satisfying image of a line splitting down the middle as they fell to reveal whoever was underneath played in his vision. There was only one thing on Tim’s mind as he felt the sickening crunch of broken bones under his blows: what was wrong with Robin?
”Robin, report!” Tim called out, glancing behind him. When he was met with silence, he tried again. “Robin, I said report!”
“He can’t!” Jon said, his voice thick and eyes shiny and smoldering with unshed tears, “He, his breathing,” He sobbed, leaning back over Damian with an ear hovering above where his heart and lungs lay. Tim’s stomach plummeted. He needed to get a closer look, needed to see what was wrong.
“Nova, can you-“
”On it. Go to him, Red,” Kon appeared next to him and brushed their hands together, reassuring. "I got this.” Tim gave him a grateful look and sprinted to where the Supersons had moved. During the midst of the battle, Jon had somehow gotten Damian away from the middle and into a corner where he could better defend them from attackers.
”Move,” he bit out. When Jon didn’t, when he instead tensed and huddled closer, Tim softened his voice. “Superboy, I need you to move. Not very far, just… just let me see him.” Hesitantly, Jon nodded and shifted a bit so Tim could get a closer look. The sight wasn’t pretty.
Blood stains covered the Robin uniform, and rips and tears broke Kevlar in several places. His face was pale and covered with sweat, breaths coming in heavy pants. All the blood seemed to stem from one place, a bullet wound going clean through his armor and straight into his shoulder. Tim bit his lip in worry as he used an R-rang to tear off a piece of his cape and apply pressure to the wound. Robin doesn’t get incapacitated from an injury like this, so the bullet had to have been laced with something. It was the only reasonable conclusion, but what? What could possibly take Robin, -who went through hell and back in the league and was trained to be immune to almost any poison- out of commission like this?
”Something was on the bullet?” Jon asked him, having probably come to the same conclusion as Tim.
”Yeah, I’m pretty sure. Any idea what?” Silence fell between them as the question hung in the air. The sound of fighting rang out around them, the air heavy with debris and dust.
“Superboy,” he looked over at Jon, who was fiddling with the bottom of his cape. “what are you guys doing here? Why did Robin choose this mission, he knew it wasn’t one for him! It’s too dangerous to be here for you two, did you even know what it was about?”
Jon shook his head, “Nova asked the same thing!” He cried out, frustrated, “No, this wasn’t supposed to happen. We were chasing some petty thief who stole this nice lady’s purse and he led up over here by the docks. D heard the noise coming from inside this warehouse and told me we should check it out after we gave the purse back. So we did! He told me he thought it was only some small underground drug ring or something, and we’ve taken care of things like that before!” Jon sniffed, pulling his knees to his chest as he ducked his face between them.
“Didn’t he look to see what was in here first? It’s not very hard to tell this is a Joker set-up, I mean his face is on practically every inch of this room.” Even though he often didn't act like it, Tim knew Damian knew when a mission was too much for him to handle. He knew how to gauge the level of danger something could be, knew when it was time to back off. Epically when it came to the supersons (Jon).
”It wasn’t his fault! It- It…” Jon trailed off, his voice getting smaller as he seemed to deflate. “It was mine. I wanted to impress him, I wanted to, to, I don’t know! Show him I could keep up, I guess.” Tim sighed sadly.
”Superboy, you don't have to do that.” His hands were full and he couldn’t do the usual ‘comforting hand on the shoulder’ scene, but he did nudge a foot against Jon’s leg. “He cares about you. I mean, man. It’s like you're all he talks about! We really need him to reach out more, maybe I’ll ask Collen’s older brother if he’s interested in hanging out with the brat again.” On a more serious note, he continued, “But that was very unsafe of you.”
”I know! I just-“
”Don’t interrupt me,” Tim cut in, "I'm not done. It wasn’t just unsafe, it was stupid. I don't care how many times you see Robin jump into missions with no knowlage on them. Even if he’s not supposed to, he's technically a trained professional and knows what he’s doing. You're not. -but that isn’t a bad thing!” He tacked on quickly when he saw the younger boy frown, “you’re just learning. All Robin did was learn earlier. Now, I need you to help Supernova. The faster you guys can take care of this mess the faster we can get back to the Batcave and find out what that bullet was laced with.” Jon nodded and flew off.
Tim turned his attention back to the task at hand, stopping the bleeding. From his backpack he grabbed everything he’d need. First hints first, removing the bullet. He knew it would be unsafe to do without the proper equipment, but Tim had to get it out. A pair of sanitized tweezer-like tongues were his tool of choice as he pushed down on Damian’s shoulder to prevent moving. The bullet was discarded to the side once removed, Tim next disinfecting the would; cleaning it to the best of his abilities. What worried Tim the most was Damian's lack of movement. Aside from the occasional pained noise, he’d yet to do anything besides gaze bleary eyed at the glass ceiling above him.
”Robin, I need you to say something.”
”Timothy,” Damian croaked out, his vision focusing on his older brother. Tim laughed quietly, relieved.
”Thank god,” he muttered as he finished wrapping the wound, “you had me worried there for a minute. Correction, you have me worried. Still.” Damian just looked at him, a deep, contemplating look.
”What?” Tim frowned, “Is anything wrong?”
”Besides the-, auh, the hole in my shoulder,” Damian glared at Tim as if he’d been the one who shot the gun, “everything’s just peachy.”
“Very funny brat, but I'm serious. You’re not one to use code names on the field.” It either meant something was wrong or he really was just that out of it.
Before Tim could get a reply, Jon was back. He immediately crouched over his partner, checking the wound was bandaged well enough and whispering hushed and under his breath in a language Tim didn't know.
”Red,” Tim turned around as he was addressed to see Kon touch gently down onto the ground beside where he sat. “How is he?” he asked, gesturing to Damian.
”Better, no longer bleeding out but not exactly in the best shape. And whatever he was hit with is giving him a slight fever. Which reminds me-,“ he pulled a bottle out of his pocket and tapped Jon on the shoulder, “Here. Painkillers, they should also act as a fever suppressor. Make sure he takes them, and when I say make sure, make sure. He likes to be sneaky about avoiding them because they dull down his senses, I’m inclined to believe that he’ll listen to you more than he’ll listen to someone like me or Batman. So don’t forget” Jon nodded and opened the bottle, passing a few to Damian along with some water from his own pack. He forced Robin to sit up against the wall before letting him drink, despite the protests made at his actions.
Tim leaned back on his hands and sighed. “I’m just worried,” he mumbled to Kon, “I don't know what he was laced with, and until we find out those pills will have to do.”
”Well it’s a good thing we're going back to the cave. You can run some tests on him there,” Kon patted him on the back and pulled him to his feet. “By the way, did you even get what we came here for?”
”Of course I did, “ Tim scoffed, “What do you take me for, it's right here.” He rummaged around in his belt for the USB, dangling it in the air before Kon’s face when he found it. Kon smiled at him and swatted his hand away.
”C’mon, let’s go.” Kon helped Tim onto his feet as Jon did the same for Damian, waiting until he was steady enough to stand on his own before letting go. It was a known fact in the superhero community that you shouldn’t hold Robin unless he allowed you too. Jon fretted around him like a small bird anyway, wanting to help even though Damian scowled and hissed at him to back up. (“It’s a shoulder wound Heyseed, I don't need to be carried”). Suddenly, an uneasy feeling sunk its way into Tim’s bones. He stopped walking, waiting and listening to the shadows for movement. Kon had stopped too, his hands tightening into fists as he waited.
”What’s going-“
”Shh!” Superboy’s mouth was quickly covered by Robin’s glove, a glare silencing him. Kon turned slowly in a circle, not stopping until he faced the eastern wall of the building.
“There’s something there,” he said seriously, “But I'm not sure- look out!” Tim gasped as nearly 250 pounds of kryptonian crashed into him, Kon shielding him with his own body. The wall Kon had previously been suspicious of blew open, chunks of concrete flying into Kon’s Supernova suit. Briefly Tim wondered if Damian and Jon were okay, but a familiar laugh shattered his train of thought.
”Guess whooo!!” Joker cackled, his smile uncannily wide as panic ran its way through Tim’s entire system. Alarm bells rang in his ears, warning him, telling him to act quickly or it‘d be too late.
“Kon!” He cried out, desperately trying to free himself from the Supers death grip, “Let go! We need to get out of here, I need to call Batman!”
”Trying to leave already? But the fun’s barely started! Besides, this place is a complete dead zone, not even your pesky Oracle will be able to get through to you! I even have a brand new toy I'm just dying to try out,” He said, laughing once again. Joker’s laugh had to be one of Tim’s least favorite sounds. The way it grated across his ears and instilled fear into the populace of Gotham.
And what did he mean by a brand new toy to test, that couldn't be good. They had to get the Supersons out of there, Damian might be ready to handle Joker (at least when he’s feeling 100%) but the Boy Of Steel wasn’t. With their comms down, the task was infinitely harder. But it being harder didn’t mean it was impossible.
Kon seemed to have the same idea, because he released til and quickly flew over to where they boys were crouched together, Superboy slightly covering Robin’s shoulder with his cape.
“Boys, we need to-“
”Not so fast,” Joker growled, his smile falling into a scowl, “I’ve played with a lot of little birdies in my time, but that one,” he pointed at Damian and what seemed like for the tenth time today Tim’s heart squeezed with fear, “has managed to avoid every play date I try to set up! But ohhhho no, not this time!”
“I, I won't let you!” Jon said defiantly, standing up and spreading his arms out beside him to hide Damian. Despite his shaky voice and obvious fear, he held his ground strong. Kon helped out too, crossing to the middle of the room and setting up a TTK shield between them.
“Well brat, it was never up to you anyway!” In hindsight, Tim probably should have guessed something as unfair as this would happen. Things usually did, when it came to Gotham’s worst rouge. Joker pulled out some sort of nullifying device that crushed Kon’s TTK, running towards the group while laughing loudly.
Kon cried out as the deceive destroyed his powers, doing something to the way they functioned if his out-of-control flying was anything to go off of. He slammed into the wall and fell to the floor, groaning and trying to get back on his feet. However, as much as Tim was worried for Konner, there were more pressing matters at hand.
”There’s nothing you can do about it, not without Batsy around. Now move.” Joker snarled, gripping Jon’s shoulder and trying to forcibly push him off to the side.
”I wont!”
”Stupid little-“ he sighed angrily, “I never did like you supers anyway.” Tim noticed the way he powered on the weapon too late. He should have noticed fasted, should have said something sooner, but his shouted warning didn’t reach him in time. The tell tale sound of a weapon firing up echoed through the warehouse, filling the air with a wretched burning-metal smell. Joker raised his arm and pointed the barrel of the gun straight between Jon’s eyes.
”Goodbye, Superboy.”
-”No!”-
Time seemed to slow down for Tim as he watched the events unfold in front of him, frozen uselessly where he stood. He watched it all in slow motion, his heart pounding out of his chest as Damian shouted, determination written all over his face, not broken by a single lick of fear. He watched his little brother push Jon out of the way, sending him toppling to the side.
He watched the laser fire.
Watched it make contact with his chest, blasting clean into the Robin insignia as if purposefully aimed there.
As quick as the whole ordeal had started, it was over. The second the gun’s laser hit Damian, he was gone in a flash of light. But not gone as in dead, no, (well Tim wasn’t exactly sure if he was or not), gone as in…
Gone.
As if he’d vanished from thin air. One moment he was there, the next, poof! Tim gasped, running over to the smoldering mark left on the floor in his wake. His hands shook as he ran his gloved fingers across the hot concrete, smoke billowing up against his face and worming its way down his lungs.
”Robin?” He whispered, voice catching. From beside him he heard Jon let out a stifled sob.
”Hmm, that was a bit anticlimactic, wouldn’t you say? I was expecting more of a fight, a bit more, pizzazz.” Tim turned slowly and stood, not taking his eyes off of the mark.
“You have got to be kidding with me right now,” Tim took a step back, looking at Joker with desperate eyes.
“Where did you send him!” He shouted, the sound strangled in the back of his throat. When his only response was that same, bone chilling smile as usual, he snapped.
”Just fucking answer me god damn it!”
“Now now birdie, where would be the fun in that?” Tim was going to kill a man. Get in the I-told-you-so’s now folks, there might not be another chance. This was it, the day Batman had been delaying for years even though it was bound to happen eventually. The day the Joken died. Red Robin would go down in history as the Gothamites’ savior, forever praised for his heroic duty. That is, if Superboy didn't get to it first.
Red and blue barreled into Joker, sending him crashing to the floor. Joker cried out in surprise, struggling to free himself from Superboy's grip with one hand still tightly wrapped around the gun’s trigger.
“Bring him back!” Jon cried desperately, “Bring Robin back!”
“Augh!” The Joker tossed Jon to the ground, taking advantage of the fact Jon’s emotions were sending his powers on the fritz.
“I don’t have time for this boy. If you're so desperate to see your little friend, why don’t you go keep him some company!” Then, for the second time in under ten minutes, the laser was fired; this time instead of hitting an ‘S’ instead of an ‘R’.
”Superboy!” Kon was at the scene of the crime in the blink of an eye, having seemingly gotten over his little roadblock from earlier.
”Oh fuck, of god-“ He was panicking. To be fair, Tim was too, but they really needed to get this whole thing dealt with. Red Robin always kept a legal head, that’s what made him a good leader. So why couldn’t he now?
“Nova,” he managed to whisper, causing Kon’s head to quickly turn in his direction. He started to make his way towards where Tim was standing.
“We really need to get help. Can you call someone? Superman? Supergirl?”
Kon shook his head and grimaced. “No, they're both off-world. But together we can do this. We just need a little more information.” They needed to question Joker, they needed answers. Judging from the fact he told Jon he could keep Damian company before zapping him, Tim deduced the being didn’t kill them, merely… sent them somewhere.
But where?
“Where are they,” Tim snapped, in no mood for games. He wanted answers, and he was going to get them.
”Now, why would I tell you when you could just see for yourself?” Just like that, Tim was alone. The spot Kon was standing in just moments before was empty, smoke billowing up to the ceiling and escaping through cracks in the old worn down glass. His hands shook, clenching and unclenching as he tried to reign in his anger. Violence wasn’t the key to cracking this case, talking was.
”Joker. Tell me,’ he hissed.
“Well you always have been my favorite toy, I suppose, so alright. I’ll play your game, but only on one condition. Give me back the data you stole from me. I know you have it, it was hard to miss you waving the blasted USB in front of your friends face. Give it here,” he held his hand out, palm open and facing upwards. Tim hesitated. The entire mission was for ihe information on the flash drive, and based on how desperate Joker was to get it back it was -for once- probably the real deal. What would Batman do? Tim thought, then shook his head. No, wrong question, what would Bruce do.
The answer to his question came to Tim quicker than he thought it would.
”Alright,” he said slowly and pulled out the USB, clutching it tightly in his fist, “but I want their location first. Where. Are. They.”
”Well, I'm glad you asked! See, I’ve had this weapon in production for a while. It’s a transdemention teleportation gun,” Joker explained, grinning as he dangled the gun between his thumb and forefinger. “Baseicly, out there, in the universe or whatever, “ here he gestured vaguely in the air, “there’s a dimension that’s an almost exact copy of this one, down to every blade of grass. There’s only one difference, and a pretty major one I’d say. They don’t have any Metas! Could you believe it? No superheroes, no villains, no one to stop me from doing whatever I want!” Joker cackled, pulling a hand down his face and smudging his makeup in the process.
”What does that have to do with us? Why, if your goal was to go there yourself, did you fire at Robin instead?”
”I don’t know if it actually works or not. You see, testing a teleportation device on living things is dangerous without any contact with the other side. All the stuff I’ve been sending through? Could be a pile of smoaking ash right now, maybe it was compressed into a pile of nothingness or time and space! The possibilities are endless!” That fucking laugh, the laugh of a man who just doesn’t care. Doesn’t care that he’s just sent some of Tim’s closest loved ones to their almost certain doom. “So yeah, I figured if I just sent one of the heros they would figure out all that nonsense for me. The justice league cares enough about its members to not leave them stranded, so…” Joker twirled the gun around by his fingers mindlessly. He seemed proud of his little plan.
Tim was feeling faint. He felt like throwing up, he felt sick. Right now, at that very moment, Damian, Jon, and Kon could be one of two places. Lost in time and space forever, or stranded in some random universe with no knowledge of its inhabitants. To make matters worse, Damian was injured and rapidly getting worse. He needed to help them, warn them and explain to them what was going on. But how? The only way to contact them was to get sent himself, and if Tim got sent, who was going to inform the league?!
Maybe Joker would. He’d mentioned wanting to leave the hard stuff to people like Batman and Nightwing, real detectives and heroes who knew what they were doing. He just… Tim was scared. It wasn’t often he felt like this, this helpless. Recently the feeling wormed its way into his heart more and more.
”This has been fun, don't you agree?” No, Tim really does not agree, “but I must get going. The drive?” Tim blinked for a second, trying to register what The Joker had asked him. Ah, the USB. Tim dropped it dumbly into his waiting pearl, watching pasty white bones fingers curl around it.
”Bye bye birdie! It was entertaining while it lasted!”
”Wah-?”
Bright light left Tim momentarily blinded, stealing the air from his lungs as the impact of an invisible force knocked him into a weightless state, leaving him to free fall through the molasses like air. Then darkness crept across the corners of his vision, invading his senses as dull static until he couldn’t feel anything.
Until everything went black.