Archive of Our Own

Duke was all of eleven and he really shouldn't have had to deal with this.

He shouldn't have been the only one insisting his parents were still alive out there. He shouldn't have been the one badgering social workers and the adults who came and went to keep looking for them. It wasn't fair that they'd just give up like that. His family deserved better than that.

But Gotham didn't play fair. So Duke would have to be the one to change the game.

The tail end of November made for a cold wind blowing up the tunnels that led into the city's intestines. Duke wrinkled his nose at the smell. They sure smelled like someone's insides. But he'd already been in foster care for a month and that was one month more than he'd like, so in he went. The toy flashlight (bought last year in his school's scholastic book fair, and which had thus far existed for reading under the covers when his parents expected him to be asleep) only shined a few inches out, but with the flickering lights that appeared high on the walls every now and then, it was better than the last tunnel had been and enough to at least navigate the corners.

It was just enough to see the shape of a collapsed person up ahead.

Duke edged closer. It was a grown up's shape, and judging by the silhouette… "…Mom?" She had dark brown skin, and big black hair,and was lying face down on the ground. "Mom!"

The flashlight clattered out of his hand as he dropped to her side, trying to shake her awake. "Mom, wake up! It's me!"

Her shoulder was warm. It shifted under his hands as she groaned. Duke nudged her even more, trying to get her to at least roll over.

She didn't. Her arms twitched, curling up under her. Then she groaned again and, when it became obvious what she was trying to do, Duke helped her sit upright. The flashlight had flickered off by then, but they were under one of the overhead lights so it worked well enough for getting a good look at her face. At the slant of her features…and at the eyes.

"…You're not my mom."

Her white eyes slowly blinked at him. They still had pupils, and irises, so it wasn't like looking at the back of an eyeball, but even in the dim light it was plain to see that both of them were cloudy white, just like how the front part of her afro was stark white like Frankenstein. White hair should've meant that her face was old and wrinkled, but it instead she looked both young and old.

She tilted her head a little bit. "…You can see me?"

Duke didn't answer on account of his heart breaking. Maybe it shouldn't have. It had only been a day since he'd run away from the foster home, and this was only the second tunnel he'd gone into. But this was the first person he'd found in one of them. It was the first time he'd hoped it was her.

But she wasn't his mom. And she probably couldn't see him either. And he just had to sit there with the weight of the grief on his shoulders that'd been gradually pressing down all day, pressing down all month, and there was no one left to carry it but him.

He would carry it. He knew that. But…he was so tired. He just needed to sit for minute. He probably needed to eat something, too. He probably needed a hug.

He didn't cry because he'd already done that a month ago and there weren't any tears left. His focus narrowed to staring at the dark cluster of freckles on her cheek. They looked almost exactly like the big dipper. He was so caught up on that that he didn't notice the lady reach up and hold his face.

"…Oh. You're his," she finally said.

She was squinting at him, as if she could actually see. Or maybe she was hallucinating. Maybe she would've said that to whoever found her because she needed someone too.

Duke came back to himself enough to take in the rest of her appearance. For reasons unknown, the lady was wearing…a fancy pillowcase? It was thin, flowy, and just big enough to probably cover her butt. It did absolutely nothing for her bare arms and legs, which would've been fine in the summer but November? In Gotham?

What Duke didn't know was that the garment was a chiton, nor did he notice the subtle jewelry on her person or the vague smell of incense coming off of her. But what he did find was enough to take off his hoodie and put it around her shoulders. The donation bin hoodie had nearly drowned him in it but on her it fit right. "It's not safe to sleep here. Let's go back up and find somewhere else. Come on, I'll help you."

After finding his toy flashlight, he tugged her up to stand and led the way out. There weren't many places he knew of for homeless people to safely sleep, due to being newly homeless himself, but he figured if they looked for one together they'd be better off. And if they found a group of homeless kids, then all the better. Safety in numbers, after all. Or maybe she was hurt somewhere and that's why she'd been down there? Duke was pretty sure Leslie's was nearby, but not too sure. The first tunnel had led him in a roundabout direction that eventually emerged somewhere near the bay, if the smell was anything to go by.

When they finally made it to the entrance, Duke turned to the lady. "Are you hurt? Do you want me to take you to a clinic or something?"

The light of the sunset showed a lot more of her. She still looked somewhere between fifteen and fifty, but now it was with hundreds of freckles and moles covering her from forehead to toes. It was a wonder he'd only noticed the constellation on her face. There was one on her arm that lined up like an upside down dipper, the Ursa Minor sign, and another three under her collarbone that lined up like Orion's belt.

He noticed this right as she leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Thank you, little godling. You have already helped."

…What was that word she said? It sounded like 'little darling'. It might've been. She had an accent he couldn't place, though that was beside the point. "Are you sure? Is there anything else you need?" Duke asked, just in case.

What she gave him wasn't a smile, but it wasn't not a smile either. She stepped back and shook her head. "No, I don't."

There went his safety in numbers plan. But at least now she had something warmer to wear. At least he'd been able to help her. Duke held back a sigh and nodded. "Okay. Goodbye, then."

Was it just him, or was the dipper on her cheek closer to her nose? Or it could've been the sunset making it appear that way. Either way, there was no other reason to stay. He nodded one more time and walked away.

When he got far enough, he took off at a slight jog. The first order of business was to get warmer and the next was to find a place to hunker down. Gotham at night was not a risk worth roaming around in, even he knew that. Plus, he was cold (thanks to having no hoodie) exhausted (thanks to having no food), and he had a fresh headache starting up behind his eyes (because of course he did) so the least he could do was find a street full of take out places, which were warm and likely to have a bunch of leftovers if he searched.

As he ran between a pair of buildings, a wave of warm air hit him like a wall. Woah. There must've been a huge generator or something nearby. Maybe he'd gotten close to one of the factories?

A stray dog went splashing through a puddle and Duke halted just in time to avoid it. Wait—a puddle? It hadn't rained the entire month.

That wasn't the only puddle either. Beyond the two buildings, the whole street was slick with dirty water. The air was still warm.

Duke paused. He looked around. It was still Gotham, obviously. It still smelled the same. Except…except it kind of didn't. What street was he on? What direction had he run in the first time? Were any of the posters different or—

Duke stopped dead in his tracks. On the next street over stood a tree covered in flowers.

Raggity, drooping orange flowers, beaten down by rain and from growing on a thin tree planted in a sidewalk, but…those were definitely flowers.

Last he'd checked, it'd definitely been late November.

…Something weird was going on here. There was no point staying on the ground when he didn't know what street he was in. He needed a better visual, if nothing else than to find some familiar landmarks and reorient himself.

The fire escapes were of the Gotham variety: rickety, rusted, and unreliable. But they did the job of getting him to the nearest rooftop and woah—there's the Diamond District.

It was just right there, a few streets over, practically a hop, skip, and a jump away. Glittering with lights and shimmering in the night, exactly like its name. Not that it shouldn't exist, but last he checked he hadn't been anywhere near the Diamond District. Not to mention the rest of the city. Being raised by an architect, Duke knew enough to be able to describe some of the structural motifs and styles that existed in Gotham. He had access to vocabulary such as Art Deco, Art Nouveau and Gothic architecture, the result of the varied and colorful history of the city that had led to the skyline looking the way it did.

Yet despite that, there was just something…off about the view. Even outside of literal stone gargoyles, something that didn't feel quite right.

Duke had just rested his hands on the low railing, trying to see further out, to see if he could pinpoint what exactly was going on—

"Find what you're looking for?"

Duke did not shriek, which is a useful trait to have in Gotham. But he'd leaned far enough over the railing for the sudden jolt to send him nose over heels into the night and hurtling to the far off street below—

Except an arm wrapped around his middle like an iron band and hauled him back up. "Woah! Careful there," despite saying that, the voice sounded amused. "Nice reflexes. You okay?"

Duke took offense to the amusement. "Not when someone's sneaking up on me!"

"Sorry, sorry, my bad."

The arm easily let go, which was good because Duke would've started elbowing and kicking. He turned around with his fists raised.

…That was not his Robin. The hair was different, and so was the build. And so were the lack of pants.

Duke squinted at that fact while the boy asked, "What're you doing up so late?"

The sun had literally just set. Why would it be late? It was six pm, at best. Except—Duke looked up. Dark grey clouds took up the sky. While it was true that Gotham was probably the one place in New Jersey that received sunny days only sometimes, that hadn't been there last time Duke checked.

"Is it?" he asked, squinting at it.

"Well, last I heard, midnight is a pretty late time to be awake, yeah."

Midnight? Duke looked sharply at him. What was he saying? And why was he saying it? Not to lie to him, obviously. He had no reason to. So the better question was: why was Duke the one hearing it from a Robin he was more than sure he didn't know?

…Wrong Robin, wrong weather, wrong place, wrong time—

—Time.

Huh. Now there's a theory. He'd probably have to get some definitive proof to make sure of it, but first he needed to exit this situation post haste.

Despite thinking that, his mouth still went off. "Well, last I heard, staying up late isn't a crime."

"It's not, though it's interesting that you're hanging around here of all places."

Excellent observation, Captain Obvious. Duke staunchly resisted the urge to say that out loud, since that'd only serve to keep this time (ha) wasting conversation going. Instead, he simply nodded. "You're right."

And then he scooted around the pantless wonder to go hunting for the fire escape. Technically, it hadn't quite managed to make it all the way up to the roof, but he'd still managed. If he was careful and slowly eased himself down…

…Oh. That's uh…kind of a long way down. Rather different looking down the fire escape than up at it. Between the rusted metal bits that made up the stairs was plenty of space to stare down at the much, much farther off ground below where, say, a short, squishy boy could easily crash into the pavement.

In fact, it kind of felt like the ground was coming up to meet him, too. And that the rooftop was a lot wobblier than it had been a second ago and maybe Duke ought to back away from the edge—

"Soo, what're we doing?"

Duke didn't shriek (again), though he did lose his balance (again). A familiar arm grabbed him just in time to prevent death by vertigo induced stumbling and hauled him back up.

"Careful there, squeaky. Are you always this clumsy?"

"Get off!" Duke did not squeak. That was uncalled for! "What do you want?!"

The caped annoyance ignored him to move them several steps away from the ledge, then carefully set him down. Duke still stumbled a bit, largely due to his still flailing arms. (Okay, maybe not largely. Maybe only a little. Maybe he actually felt kind of woozy.)

"Sorry, again. It's a force of habit. I just wanted to help." Robin held his hands up like that was supposed to make this better.

"I don't need help. I'm fine!" snapped Duke, ignoring the sudden pulse of headache. He had a situation to deal with and inconvenient bodily malfunctions could learn to shut up and wait. "Don't you have a robbery or something to stop?"

"Technically, that's already taken care of. But don't you want help to get back to your orphanage?"

What.

"What."

"That tag, on the back of your shirt," Robin indicated the back of his own suit, "it's got the sign of the Mercy Foundation. They donate to orphanages, right?"

Duke tugged his t-shirt's neckline to check and—oh. That symbol did look familiar. So it wasn't just a clothing tag, then.

While he digested that, Robin continued. "A lot of those orphanages are on the other side of the city, and it'd be dangerous to go alone at this hour. Or it could be foster care—are you running away? Is that what this is?"

…Kind of? By literal definition, yes. But 'running away' made it sound like he was being a delinquent. Despite how often he talked back to (corrected) his teachers, he wasn't someone who did that kind of thing. He didn't go out of his way to break rules or even skip school. Rather than evading the law, what Duke was trying to do was correct it.

Even if no one else would see it that way. Or even listen to him.

"…It's complicated."

"That's fine. You don't have to tell me." Robin shrugged, taking a step closer. Something about the way he said it and his body language made it feel like he was trying to take control of the situation. Trying to handle Duke. Like Duke was a scared cat that needed to be wheedled into a carrier to go get flu shots.

At least Robin wasn't being condescending about it, unlike the adults who'd tried it on him already, but it still rankled. "But how about we at least find a shelter for the night? There are some I know that won't ask questions. You'll be safe there, I promise. I'll make sure of it. Take it from me, it's better to be an orphan with a roof over your head than without—"

"I'm not an orphan!"

Maybe it was the headache and nausea, maybe it was the exhaustion of running around all day, or maybe the exhaustion of an entire month running around and trying to get help and getting the wrong kind of help and strangers acting like they knew what was best for him and no one listening to him but—he'd had it. He was so tired.

"I'm sick of everyone telling me that! Just because no one believes my parents are still alive doesn't mean I have to just give up. I'm not giving up! My parents are out there! My family's out there and they need help! They'd never abandon me if they couldn't get me so I'm not gonna abandon them and until I see a body I'll never stop looking and I'll never give up so don't go calling me an orphan when I'm not!"

Duke normally wasn't one to act like this but he wasn't thinking about that so much as the words were spilling out of his mouth. "I don't want your help if you're just going to put me back in the system that gave up on me! Just leave me alone! I'll do it myself! I—!"

It was at that moment it became apparent that something was wrong. Throughout his yelling Robin hadn't interrupted. If fact, his shoulders had started to droop.

"I…"

Though the mask covered his eyes, it didn't cover the rest of his face. It didn't cover the careful, blank hollowness that seemed to overcome him. Like a mask made for emotions that had started to crack.

And Duke noticed. Even with his grievances at the forefront, his mind kept noticing things. It might not know the specific shape of this sudden strangeness, but to him, the fact that there was something wrong was plain as day.

"…Are you okay?"

One time Duke's mom had told him that people who keep their emotions bottled up might do so for a number of reasons. Duke, being someone who had no qualms expressing his thoughts, hadn't understood fully at the time, but a lot of it seemed to boil down to them not having a person to share their with. Sometimes, all it took was the right set of circumstances and saying just one sentence for those feelings to come out. Often, that one sentence was, 'Are you okay?'

It seemed that the needed variables had been achieved because before his very eyes he watched Robin crumple in on himself.

And that? That was a sad sight to see. Duke might've been trying to get away before, but he couldn't just leave him like that. Not when he was part of the reason he'd gotten that way.

(Why had he gotten that way, though? Why towards Duke? What had Duke said?)

Duke was two things: someone who was insatiably curious and who cared too much. So he sat down with a stranger. He listened.

Robin didn't cry, but that might've had a little to do with the mask. His voice definitely had tears in it by the end of it.

"…So basically, you and your adopted dad haven't been getting along lately because reasons."

From where he'd laid his head on his folded up arms, Robin nodded.

"And you're scared you might be unadopted because of said reasons."

Another nod.

"So you'd been planning to find your real mom, who you've deduced might be alive and living in a different country, and your goal is to find her and talk to her."

Another nod, followed by a faint sniffle.

Duke tilted his head, frowning at the problem like he would a puzzle. "…Have you tried talking to someone else about this?"

It took a few seconds, but slowly Robin raised his head. "…What?"

"You know, like a friend or trusted adult?"

When that didn't garner a response, Duke elaborated. "Assuming you go to school, maybe there's a classmate who's gone through something similar and can hear you out."

"…I don't…" Robin gulped. Duke waited patiently. "…I don't really have friends."

"Why not? Don't you go to school?"

"I do, but…even if I did have friends, they wouldn't know about…" he waved a hand vaguely in the direction of his suit. "I'd be keeping half my life from them."

"…Well, you could still talk to, I don't know, a school counselor, right? Unlike with classmates, that could just be a one time thing, and they might at least know what to do about adoption problems, and have more power to help."

Robin sighed. "Maybe, but still. I shouldn't risk compromising my civilian identity. It's not safe."

…Something about the way he said that sounded a lot like that line had been fed to him. Duke squinted at it, but moved on. "Fine. In that case, is there someone who knows about the hero part of your life? Someone you can get close to?"

"Well…there's my adopted brother." Oh, great, that's perfect then— "But he lives in another city and we don't really talk much. I haven't talked to him in months, honestly."

Good grief. "Is there someone who knows about the hero part of your life whom you've talked to recently?"

"…I've met the Justice League. But I think they're in outer space right now."

Duke made a point not to send a thousand yard stare into the distance. "Is there someone who knows about the hero part of your life whom you've talked to recently and is not currently in outer space or in another city as of this moment?"

"…Catwoman?"

"Good enough." Duke stood up. "Let's go find her."

The boy blunder stared at his outstretched hand like he'd just been offered a rubber duck. "…Aren't you trying to find your parents, too? Why is it important to you that I talk to someone instead?"

It was Duke's turn to stare at him like he was the weird one. "Because you actually have people to talk with? Several people? Do you think I'm out here running around by myself for fun? I already tried talking to people. I talked to the police, I talked to the counselors, I talked to my teachers, I talked to the fosters, I talked to social workers, I talked to people from the government, I went to the newspapers. I've been trying to reach out all month. I never stopped trying. I tried every legal action available to me and it's because none of them worked that I'm here at all."

Unlike Duke, who'd been left to languish in foster care whether he liked it or not, this boy didn't have that problem. He still had a roof over his head and his guardian alive and breathing. The crux of the issue was an emotional one, rather than a legal one. The solution seemed simple and obvious.

"The problem as I see it is that you need someone to listen to you and care about what you're saying without being scared that they're just going to abandon you. I don't think you're completely lacking in resources and I don't think this specific problem needs you to immediately go all the way to the other side of the planet when there are easier and faster ways to fix it right now. In fact, that should be the last thing you do, and only after going to the other, way closer options first. You know, since they're not half a planet away and all."

It occurred to Duke, somewhere in the back of his head, that that phrasing might've been a smidgen harsh. But it was true. And he was right. Plus, the most important concern right then was solving the problem at hand, right? Duke knew how to do that so that's what they'd do.

Since the overgrown pigeon was taking too long to make a decision, Duke grabbed his hand and tugged. When that didn't yield a result, he heaved a sigh. "If I promise to let you take me to a shelter and promise to stay there the entire night, then will you please, please, pretty please let me talk to Catwoman? It'll only be a few minutes, and then you can drop me off and fly dramatically into the moon or whatever." He took a second to think over that sentence. "It will only be for a few minutes. Pardon me."

The corner of Robin's mouth twitched up. It was small, but Duke saw it. Was it the sprinkling of theatrics he threw in that was amusing? There were some people who found his quips clever and adorable. In that case: "Unless your cape turns into wings and you can literally fly away, in which case I think that function might make this faster and we can go that way. Though I draw the line at being left with Batman if he's the only one who can do that, since I'd rather not find out if the other rumors are also true and he can unhinge his jaw like a snake. That sounds horrible and I don't want to see it—"

"Okay, okay, fine." Finally, he stood. "One conversation with Catwoman and then I'm taking you to a shelter, right?"

"Yeah, come on, let's go."

Duke hadn't exactly thought far enough ahead about how exactly they'd go about doing that, though he'd had vague notions of either braving the fire escape or…something. What actually happened was that Robin found a wooden plank long enough to lay flat and make a bridge connecting one end of their building to another one, then he looped his arms around Duke and picked him up.

"Squeaky, I actually need to see," said he, while Duke clung to his head like a pool floatie. Should've given a warning before you did that, then. Despite thinking that, Duke moved his arms a little. "Based on what I've seen so far, I get the impression you're scared of heights. Are you?"

"I'm not!" replied Duke, which immediately defeated the point.

Robin bounced him a little higher (Duke resented that) and hummed. "Instead of looking down, focus on looking straight ahead. Eyes forward, alright?"

And that was the only warning he gave before climbing onto the plank and casually walking across the divide like Duke weighed nothing and the way wasn't a narrow piece of plywood. Duke kept his eyes on the horizon until they made it across but instead of ending it there the big featherbrain decided to find footholds that'd let him jump across to the roof of another building and then Duke had to close his eyes and breathe through his mouth and try to think about dinosaur facts. From the sound of it, the third roof over was where it finally stopped, at which point he was allowed to stand on his own two feet while Robin lock-picked a big metal door jutting up from the roof. It led to a fire escape that ran inside the building itself, and then after opening another door they were on the blessed ground and Robin led them down the street and into the Diamond District.

By that point Duke's headache had receded, though he still felt a little queasy. When they made it to a large building and Robin shot a grapple line, Duke wordlessly let him pull him close and buried his face in his shoulder as they flew up to the roof.

The grapple hook had latched onto a metal beam that was a part of some kind of construction or renovation set up on the rooftop. Duke observed the lines of metal and where they led. Hm…renovation, most likely. He nodded to himself.

Robin wrapped his cape around them both while he unlatched the hook. "We might have to wait a minute before we see her. How are you not cold yet? You're wearing short sleeves and everything."

Duke, who'd just stepped out of Gotham in November, didn't bother to answer that.

On the next building over was a shiny, glass-looking roof. As promised, it only took a few minutes before a small square of it lifted up and a distant figure climbed out. Even though they were high up, the general light of the surroundings showed that the person seemed to be covered in something skin-tight and black.

That was all the evidence Duke needed to slip out of the cape and walk a few steps forward. Then he reached up and cupped his hands around his mouth.

"EXCUSE ME, MISS CATWOMAN? I HAVE A QUESTION—!"

A gloved hand clapped over his mouth. Duke got dragged behind a pile of wooden crates like a hostage.

"What're you doing?" Robin hissed.

"I called out to Catwoman," said Duke, at a normal volume. "You said I could talk to her."

"Not like that! Who in their right mind does that?!"

"I'll say."

Robin squeaked (ha!) while the woman in question perched on the crates above them both. Instead of an eye mask, Catwoman wore thick goggles, which didn't hide her eyes so much as they obstructed a complete view of her face. Her grin shone sharp and bright against her brown skin. "So I hear someone has a question."

"Yes, ma'am. I do." Duke piped up, standing to speak to her. "If you have a little time right now, then there's a problem I'd like to get your input on—"

Duke explained the situation while Tweety Bird Senior continued to cower on the ground and die of shame. He noted absently that her ears and tails were not prehensile, which was new information. If they had been then chances were they would've twitched with interest as she listened intently, occasionally humming here and there.

"—so now we need to find someone he can rely on for the time being, ideally to give emotional support as well as practical support, since his father figure isn't doing either. You don't have to do that yourself, of course, if you're busy or don't want to, though I think it'd be best if we could get in contact with his adoptive brother at least, or maybe someone his brother knows might be helpful too." Duke finally took a breath. Then he remembered to add, "Please."

By that point, she'd slunk down to sit on one of the closer crates. Despite how precarious it looked, she seemed completely at ease as she sat with her legs crossed and a clawed finger tapping against her cheek.

"…You're right that I don't have the time to look after a little bird. Sorry, sweetie."

Robin didn't look up from where he'd put his face in his hands, though he did grunt something that sounded like 'okay'.

That sharp grin of hers appeared again. "But I think I have an excellent solution to one part of your conundrum. It involves getting into the Batcave, though."

Slowly, Robin unearthed his face and tilted it up at her. "…How do you know about that?"

She winked, "A girl has her ways."

"Is it because you and Batman are dating?" Duke asked. "Which reminds me: why'd you pick him, anyways? I don't think he even has a sense of humor. You can do better."

While Robin made a half-snort, half-choked noise, the woman blinked at him. Then her mouth curved into a slow, sweet smile, completely different from her earlier grin. "Oh trust me, kitten, our banter is more than enough to lead us to…other activities."

The choking noises became grossed out noises. Duke looked at that, then back at her, at the evidence of smudged lipstick on her mouth. Ahh. So this about kissing stuff. In which case, that's none of his business.

Time to change the topic. "Okay, so how're we getting to this Batcave?"

"I have a solution for that, too." Catwoman hopped down, and in one fell swoop she scooped up Duke and perched him on her hip so that he was left to flail for her shoulders and woah what shoulders—her muscles were hard as rocks.

She used her other hand to point. "On the count of three, we jump! One—"

About one hour and a whirlwind adventure later, they found themselves in the Batcave in one piece. More or less.

Duke, personally, had now solved the mystery of why she chose to carry him the entire way and had put his focus into being very grateful for her surprising strength and for once again having his feet on the blessed ground. (Did it count as blessed if it was in a cave? Holy crow, there were actual bats in there! Wow!)

"…I don't mean to be rude, but how do you know the access code for the zeta tubes?"

"Like I said, a girl has her ways." she stepped away from the glowing pillars of light and waved them forward. "Off you go, now. Have fun up there!"

Did Duke think it was a good idea to step into a mysterious, glowing pillar of light that'd beam them up to who knows where? No, he didn't. But would he spend the rest of his life tormented with curiosity if he refused to do it? Absolutely.

Plus, Duke was neither a coward nor a quitter, so he gave Catwoman a big hug— "Thank you!"

"Sure thing, kitten!"

—And hopped into the light.

The good news: it was not like flying. Though it was one of the weirder experiences of his life. And considering his current circumstances, that's saying something.

When Duke opened his eyes again, it was to grey metal walls and a man in a green suit staring right at him.

"What the—"

Duke stepped out in time for Robin to materialize behind him rather than on him. Two more people appeared, and all of them were talking. Or rather, they were talking over each other, and then Robin tried to join in and suddenly there were more people and even more talking.

Duke searched for whichever person wasn't doing the most of it. His eyes landed on Wonder Woman. He trotted over to her and tapped her arm. "Excuse me? I have something to say."

She did a double take at him. Rather than her that answered, it was a person appearing on Duke's other side. "You have something to say?" asked Superman.

Duke nodded. "I do, but it's loud in here."

"Understood."

Superman whispered in Wonder Woman's ear, which seemed counterproductive when Duke was standing right there until it occurred that maybe his voice at its current volume in that room wasn't audible. Then the two of them marched into the fray and within quick succession that shouting stopped (momentarily paused?) and all eyes turned to him.

"…Okay, so, um, it's not an immediate concern but I came here because I wanted to request some help."

"You are a civilian child whom we do not know," said one of the heroes.

"My name's Duke Thomas, it's nice to meet you. And also, I'm asking for help on Robin's behalf." Speaking of which—Duke easily found traffic light boy in the crowd and dragged him to the front to stand with him. "Since there's a lot of people here, do you want to explain the situation or should I?"

Robin had once again donned a mortified face, but this time with a side order of 'trying not to laugh hysterically'. That's fine. Duke waited until he got a thumbs up, then addressed the crowd. "I think this might take a few minutes. Do you all want to sit down?"

"No, that's fine. Just talk," said Wonder Woman.

"Okay. So—"

So he did. It was a lot like doing show and tell, except everyone in the audience was bigger and taller and older than him. That was part of the reason why he'd offered sitting down in the first place, the other part being that he'd started to feel the effects of just how long and exhausting the night's activities had already been. But Duke was more determined to get his point across than let the tiredness win so he pressed on.

"—and that's why we're here." Duke finished. By then, the adults in the hallway had settled down from the initial confusion to nodding along. "Of course, I'm not asking you to solve all of the problems. But I think having a second opinion from other people or at least someone to rely on might be helpful."

One of the heroes in the middle piped up. "You do realize there's only so much we can do. We're not in a position to lecture Batman on how to raise his protégé."

"I didn't ask you to do that. I said to listen to Robin and be there for him."

"Excuse me?" His tone, and the way his face twitched was that of a grown up annoyed at a child talking back to them. That hadn't even been the point of what Duke had said. Duke had already been subjected to enough that day, he didn't need to deal with this too. He sighed.

"I'm not trying to be rude or insulting, specifically. I'm pointing out that your facts are wrong because they are," Duke patiently explained, then added, "Though I can be rude too, if you want. I'm not doing that right now, but I can."

For example, he could've replied with 'You're excused,' but he hadn't. That would be like causing a scene on purpose. Duke wanted it stated on record that he'd not done this to "cause a scene" and definitely not for his words to be willfully misinterpreted. He'd come here with a purpose and he aimed to fulfill it.

The man still looked angry. But a few of the other heroes looked amused, and one of them even snickered. The person standing next to the annoyed one elbowed him. "Calm down. He's right." Then they turned to Duke. "I wanted to ask—why go through all this trouble? You didn't have to do this."

That was true. He didn't have to do that. No one had told him to talk to or comfort a stranger. No one had told him to do his best to help said stranger. But if he'd just gone off and abandoned someone who'd been so sad and lonely that he broke down in front of some kid who'd yelled at him, who'd already felt so abandoned by the one person who was never supposed to do that that he was willing to go to the other side of the world, then what kind of person would that make Duke? When his dad was someone who fixed things and made homes for people, when his mom was someone who helped those who had no one to help them, then would Duke really be okay with doing nothing?

"…You're right. But I think it's hard to be a functional person when no one believes in you or supports you." Duke grabbed the other boy's elbow and tugged him closer. "I found a problem. I fixed the problem. I said I would, so I did." He stated, finishing with a nod.

Robin quirked an eyebrow. "You calling me a problem, squeaker?"

"Do you classify yourself as a problem?" Duke asked, sincerely.

For some reason this warranted getting dragged into a noogie, except it was the gentlest noogie Duke had ever been subjected to, so that seemed to defeat the point. Duke bemusedly allowed it to happen.

While half the gathered adults made a concentrated effort not to audibly coo, the man from earlier was busy pinching his nose bridge. "Before we continue, shouldn't we at least let Batman know that—"

"Not to interrupt," interrupted Superman, "but from what I can see, our guest's vitals indicate that he hasn't had much food or rest in a while. Why don't we take care of that first and then reconvene somewhere else?"

Although he smiled encouragingly, his tone carried an edge of, 'As opposed to standing in the hallway in front of the zeta tubes like a group of mannerless ingrates.' Miraculously, that got them moving.

In short order, Duke was herded to what looked like a futuristic kitchen by one of the heroes and offered an array of snacks. Duke might've been more put out at being so blatantly (though politely) excluded if it weren't for being utterly mystified by the presence of danish butter cookies, which could only be called biscuits and not cookies. Cookies were supposed to be chewy. They were not supposed to be dry and crunchy of all things. But the even greater mystery was the sewing tin having actual cookies in it. He'd never witnessed that in his life. It needed further investigation.

Perhaps it wasn't a good thing to eat sweets on an empty stomach, but it's not like any of them tried to stop him. In fact, they'd left him to fend for himself in the kitchen in favor of vanishing into thin air…or outer space?

They were in outer space, right? There were no windows around to check. Duke finished a bottle of—according to the label—a tropical shake, tidied his trash into a corner (no one had told him where the trash can was, or if the place even had one), and went in search of a window.

In the third corridor he turned into, a long window ran along one side that showed a clear view of the sun in a void of black. Duke stepped towards it.

His bones twitched.

That was the only way to describe it. It didn't hurt, but it was weird and the air became hazy. It was like the particles grew denser, making the light twist and bend unnaturally. Like real life decided to become an oil painting. Colors distorted and blobbed, and a ringing started up that came from all around as the ground left his feet (or his feet left the ground—?)

Duke landed with a jolt.

He stumbled, but caught himself on the rough wall. The ringing that'd been loud enough to drown out his thoughts gradually left. Slowly, he breathed. Slowly, he opened his eyes.

The wall was brick. For all appearances, Duke now stood in an alleyway.

One side of it opened up to a wide circle, in the middle of which rose a statue. Different heroes, their bronze capes suspended in motion, stood at the top of a summit. The plaque beneath it had the following inscription: 'In honor of the team of heroes who defeated the Joker and the lives they saved. May their legacy continue to inspire.'

…When had this happened? Was Duke even in the same reality anymore?

Duke stepped back. One of the buildings had a large poster that caught his eye. It announced a charity drive that the current Robin would make an appearance at with her predecessor—her? Predecessor?

Before the words finished registering, the door below the poster opened and out walked his mom.

"Mom!"

Duke ran over and tackled her. She made an 'oof!' sound and stumbled, but then someone behind her caught them. "Dad!" Duke tried to hug him too.

"Duke? What's gotten into you, kiddo?" asked his dad, though he hugged him back.

His mom's hand found his shoulder. "We'd just finished talking with Dr. Leslie. Didn't you want to go in and say hi?"

But Duke couldn't answer her. Or at least, not immediately, not when he was still trying to catch up with the fact that they were here, that they were real.

He closed his eyes and hoped and hoped that when he opened them again they'd still be there.

And they were.

And far away, on another plane of reality, several beings floated in the clouds.

One of them was the god Apollo. He had a frown on his face as he continued to observe the family reunion going on below.

He turned to the goddess next to him. "Really?"

Hecate shrugged. She took another bite of the apple in her freckled hand. "What? It seemed fair. I took some of his vitality and in exchange he had a short trip through time. How was I to know he'd do all that?"

When the staring didn't abate, she rolled her eyes. "He's a godling. He'll grow it back."

"…I still can't believe you sent him through time just so you wouldn't have to deal with a hangover."

"Well, it's not me you should blame that on."

Hecate turned and lobbed her apple at the back of a nearby head.

"Oi!" Dionysis drunkenly sat up. "What did I do?"

"You invited me to your rager because everyone was going and if I didn't go then you wouldn't speak to me for a millennium. You are the one who begged me to drink your 'seasonal' wine, and you promised there'd be no hangover!"

He squinted at her like she'd just declared herself the queen of Olympus. "And you believed me?!"

Hecate threw another apple. It hit him square in the nose.