Chapter Text
Tim sprinted through the alleys of Gotham City. A huge drug bust was supposed to happen tonight, and Tim was going to get as many photos as he could.
That night, after overhearing the GCPD chatter on his police scanner, Tim had hurried to the bus station. Batman and Robin were sure to be there, maybe even Nightwing! Tim wouldn’t miss this for the world.
As Tim skidded into the next alley, the Batsignal came into view. He must be near the police station, because the light stretched across the polluted Gotham sky, a symbol of hope. Tim’s eyes wandered to a nearby rooftop, and he gasped.
The Dark Knight himself loomed ominously, his cape billowing around him. As Tim watched, a familiar figure dressed in red and green landed with a flip next to the Batman, an easy grin plastered on his face. Robin.
They grappled away, Robin’s cackle echoing through the alleyway. Tim beamed, a giddy feeling in his gut. He stuffed a baseball cap onto his head and sprinted after the Dynamic Duo, puddles splashing underneath his feet.
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“This is not what I signed up for, Harry!” one of the goons heaving illegal crates into a transport truck hissed. “I don’t want no business with the Bat.”
The other goon, Harry, chuckled. “Don’t worry, buddy, the Bat don’t know we’re here. Just shut your trap and load the truck.”
Tim zoomed in on the goons faces, snapping pictures to send to the GCPD later. In a warehouse down the street, Batman and Robin fought Scarecrow, and as much as Tim would love to be there with them capturing the action, he had spotted these goons sneaking out the back door, and decided to prioritize.
One of the goons dropped a crate, causing it to crack open and reveal lots of illegal firearms. As Tim leaned forward to get a better picture, the stone beneath his stomach shifted, and Tim tipped forward.
Tim swallowed the scream building in his throat and barely caught himself with his palms. Tim hung over the side of the rooftop, his arms trembling. The goons finished loading the truck and drove off.
Tim took several short breaths. He could do this. He struggled to balance his weight. His feet fought for a foothold, something to pull him back to safety.
Tim’s arms gave out, and for a few moments, Tim thought he would die.
A weight slammed into Tim, throwing him back onto the rooftop and sending him tumbling head over heels. When he finally slowed to a stop, Tim gulped down heaving breaths.
Holy shi—
“Hey, kid, you all right?” An all-too-familiar voice asked above him. Tim scrambled to his feet, meeting the concerned face of Robin.
Tim opened his mouth, then closed it. This was not good. This was not good at all.
Robin took a step forward. Tim took a step back.
Robin raised his hands in surrender. “I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. Whaddya doin’ out here all alone, huh? It’s dangerous at this time of night.”
“You’re out here!” Tim snapped before he could think about it.
Robin blinked. “Well, yeah, but I know how to defend myself. And I have adult supervision.”
Tim choked on a laugh. Calling Batman adult supervision was like calling a teenager responsible. Robin smiled like he’d won the lottery.
“Where do you live, kid? I can make sure you get home safe.” Robin nonchalantly reached a hand to no doubt trigger his comm and contact Batman. Oh no. If Batman came, there was no way Tim could lie to the World’s Greatest Detective.
“Oh, you know, around,” Tim said, gesturing to the general city of Gotham. “And I can get home just fine, Robin. You should be helping Batman with—” Tim cut himself off before he could say too much.
Robin narrowed his eyes, but didn’t comment. “C’mon, buddy, this is Gotham—”
“Exactly. This is Gotham. Which means you need to be out there, with Batman.”
“You nearly fell to your death.”
“But I didn’t, so you can leave.”
Robin sighed, exasperated. Tim crossed his arms, determined.
“Okay, fine, at least let me take you to the nearest bus stop,” Robin relented. Tim smirked in victory. Robin followed Tim as he scurried down the nearest fire escape and to the bus station a few blocks away.
After the bus pulled up, Robin tapped Tim’s shoulder before he could board. “Look, kid, I understand having a hard home life—” (Tim resisted the urge to scowl) “—but I just want you to be safe. Here,” Jason handed Tim a small keychain with a red button, “this is a panic button. Press it, and me or B will always come.” Robin raised his eyebrows, emphasizing his words. “Okay?”
Tim tucked the keychain into his pocket. “Yeah,” he replied flippantly, “Bye, Robin.”
Robin waved a two-fingered salute and lifted his grapple. It shot out with a hiss, and Robin cackled as he swung away.
Tim glared after him, yanking his baseball cap over his eyes. Tim sank into his seat. He’d take this bus to the next station and then run right back to the ducks. He was not going to miss that drug bust, no matter what Robin said.
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Robin landed silently beside Batman and crouched, surveying the warehouse absolutely swarming with goons.
“You’re late,” B grunted.
Robin rolled his eyes. “Nothin’ to worry about.” I hope. “What’s the plan?”
Batman pointed at the skylight on the roof of the warehouse. “Drop in, quietly, and move on from there.”
Robin frowned. “You haven’t done recon yet?”
“Of course not. I was waiting for you.”
Robin froze. Is B . . . caring? He coughed over a laugh. Guess miracles can happen.
Batman and Robin grapple over the goons, only silhouettes to the Gothamites below. Robin lifted the window slowly before dropping onto the catwalk, silent as, well, a cat. Batman followed close behind.
Robin scanned the environment with narrowed eyes. He spotted at least six or seven crates almost overflowing with vials and gas canisters. Robin exchanged an exasperated look with Batman.
This is way more than we thought, B. Robin signed.
Batman grunted. Let’s stick to the plan, R.
Robin rolled his eyes, but nodded at Batman before skittering across the metal walkway. After a quick scout, Robin counted two guards at each door, and three or four goons pacing the aisles.
Okay, I can work with this.
“Robin,” Batman’s voice crackled through the comm, “take down the guards, then plant explosives.”
Robin grinned. He couldn’t wait to blow this place to kingdom come.
Robin took down guards, stuffing them into a supply closet and secured an explosive onto the nearest crate. Easy-peasy.
When he moved to the next shipment, a flash caught his eye. He froze. Staring into the dark rafters above, he could almost make out a silhouette. But before he could say anything, the figure vanished.
“B?”
“Yes, Robin?”
“We’re not alone here.”