Archive of Our Own

The first thing that Tim felt when he woke up was pain. It was blinding and coming from his stomach. His leg also hurt something fierce and his body ached in a different way from what he was used to. 

That was the day Timothy Drake died. And Tim Innit took his place.

When he had checked for damages, he found scars. Not that he didn't have any, fighting in wars before you're 18 did that to you, so did growing up without any adults around. But these weren't his scars. When he had managed to make it to the bathroom for something to help, he ended up just staring back at himself in the mirror. He looked exactly like himself, except his nose wasn't crooked after being broken one too many times and his scars weren't his. 

The one that spanned his cheek from Sapnap during the first war was gone. There was no small burn scar on his ear from when he put a torch too close to face as a kid. He didn't catalog all his scars, he didn't want to think about them, but he knew these ones were different. Like, he's 100% certain that he never had a glasgow smile, but looking at his face he could see the scars, even if they were old and thin. The wound that was hurting was still fresh, and would be one of the worst scars, but this wasn’t his scar. It was close to where he’d been stabbed and lost a life, but it wasn’t right. 

Tim was himself but he also wasn't.

And while the decor of the house felt familiar, like something you'd see in a server known for its builders or something, everything was only vaguely familiar. It's like there was something in his brain filling in the gaps of his knowledge. This was ‘his’ bathroom and he had previously been in ‘his’ room. This wasn't him but he just knew there were painkillers behind the mirror, even though he shouldn't. 

It was one of the most jarring experiences of his life, which was saying a lot because he lives (lived?) in Dream's fucking SMP.

And of course, after downing the painkillers dry and trying to decipher what the fuck was happening, the memories started. Memories that weren’t his, Tim Innit’s, but were Timothy Drake’s. The original owner of the body he was inhabiting and… an alternate version of himself. 

It wasn’t that bad at first. He saw flashes of a childhood similar to his, full of neglectful parents who would leave him alone for months on end. The only difference was that he didn’t have a brother, but he did have a nanny until a certain age. Eventually though he was truly and utterly alone. The only happy memory the kid had at that point seemed to be the darkest day of his life so far, when he went to the circus, got a hug from the sweetest boy he’d ever met, and then watched said boy’s parents die. 

It’s also, coincidentally, the first day he sees Batman. 

Eventually, Tim has skipped a few grades, figured out Batman and Robin’s identities due to a certain acrobat’s flips, and has started what he called “Birdwatching”. Photography was his passion and, despite the danger, his muse are the vigilantes that protect their shitty city. No one catches him and he learns. He nearly dies a couple of times, gets mugged once, and nearly gets trafficked (thankfully was saved by Robin, which stunned the boy speechless  because even if it wasn’t the boy he met at the circus, Jason was his Robin), but it’s the only time he feels truly happy. 

Everything starts to go downhill when Jason Todd, the Second Robin, dies. 

Every memory forced into his mind after that is painful. It hadn’t felt like anything besides like watching a movie before that, but now he was also feeling all the emotions that came along. He felt the sadness and fear, the anger and the determination, the happiness and the cheer. Every single thing he felt and even though it wasn’t his life, it felt like it was. Like all of this had happened to him. 

By the time he catches up to the present (though for some reason the memories of the boy’s death were just out of reach and blurry), the sun has set and he’s a gasping, crying mess on the bed in Drake's room. It takes him too long in his opinion to pull himself together. He still feels it all in the back of his brain, like the memories are something he can just… pull out and watch like a movie. He doesn’t understand and he doesn’t like it, but for better or for worse he was now in the body of Tim Drake. 

This wasn’t his world. And Tim Drake was dead. His parents were dead. This was- where was he, actually? Where was home? He had an apartment, a Nest as the memories called it, but he wasn’t there. And there was no way in hell this was the Drake Manor, as apparently that place had been sold after Jack Drake’s death. Was he…

Did he manage to die, alone, in Wayne Manor, where he should have people who would notice if he died? How long was his other self suffering in silence? Did they even know he got hurt? Did he hide it? Was-

Was the searing pain on his stomach from the wound that had killed the guy?

But then why was the body still alive? The body’s heart is pumping, he has to breathe, and he can feel pain, so the body can’t be dead. He, Tim Innit, wasn’t just possessing a dead body. He felt too warm for it to be just that. 

“Baby bird?” 

There’s a knock on his door and it startles him so bad he nearly rolls off of the bed. He manages to catch himself, wincing slightly as it sends jolts of pain through his leg. 

Right… was his leg broken or something recently? His whole body ached something fierce, so he must have been on patrol or something recently enough. 

…

Or something was probably the right answer, considering the wound on his chest that was barely healed, just enough that he was alive and could, technically, move. 

The person knocks again, a bit more urgently. “Baby bird?” Is repeated and Tim feels an ugly emotion rear its head. 

An ugly emotion that is not his, because he knows it’s Dick on the other side of the door and while he had relived Drake’s memories, they were not his and he could never claim they were. 

“Give me a minute,” he manages to call out, wincing at how his voice sounds. 

Tommy was British because their parents were. Tim had taken to the American accents they grew up around, with a plethora of their neighbors in their neighborhood having American accents. But he also had some of those British genes in him and he grew up around Tommy fuckin’ Innit, so his accent was a mixed bag. 

The accent that comes out of Drake's mouth is more polished. The way the word ‘minute’ comes out sounds wrong to him. He can’t place it exactly but it’s just wrong. That’s not his voice. 

Tim is quick to throw on a shirt and then a hoodie, the body relaxing as the unfamiliar (to Innit) Superman symbol on the hoodie covers him. In this hoodie, the body feels safe. He doesn’t question it, having seen Drake’s memories and knowing exactly how he felt about his best friends from his Young Justice days.

He opens the door slowly, peeking out to see Dick Grayson in all his glory standing there. He’s half dressed, as if he was in the middle of changing and then remembered something. He has impressive muscles, Tim will give him that, and his dark skin does seem to glow in the calm light of the hallway. He has a plethora of scars, just like Drake, their bodies a roadmap of the lives they've lived. His smile is gentle as he gazes at him, and also full of a bit of concern. 

Tim wants Tommy. He wants his brother. Drake’s memories are still fresh and he can feel longing rise up within him, but it’s a mix of Drake’s leftover feelings and his own that want his brother. He was slightly older than Tommy, he was his little brother, and he hadn’t seen him in so fucking long. He’d just gotten back from exile and then L'Manburg was being blown up and they didn't have time to talk. And then he got captured. He didn’t even have his comm, what if his brother had died? What if he had lost his 3rd life and his twin was just blissfully unaware, waiting for a way out or for someone to come and get him. He’d been put in the perfect trap, kept fed enough to stay alive, but not enough to have any energy or strength. It was an automated system that fed him every day to ensure his survival, so he hadn’t even seen a real person in… 

A really long time. 

“Baby bird!” Dick coos, looking relieved. 

He moves in to give him a hug, but Tim can’t suppress the flinch as the man gets closer. That wasn’t Drake, he can feel the guys longing in his gut, it was purely him. He knew this guy but he didn’t. He knew Dick Grayson through Tim Drake’s memories, but that wasn’t him. He didn’t experience those things with him, he just spent some odd amount of hours getting the guys memories shoved through his brain. 

Dick looks surprised for a second, but is quick to back off. He instead gives him a gentle smile, a bit of worry leaking into the edges. 

“How are you feeling? We all wanted to respect your space, we know you like to take care of yourself if you can, but after the abrupt splenectomy we’ve all been too worried to leave you completely alone. Alfred should-”

Tim feels 3 distinct things in quick succession. The first to is surprise, which has him reaching out to grab Dick by the shoulders as he exclaims “WHAT!?” 

The next is pain, acute pain that runs through his stomach and his leg as soon as he dares move farther than his body says is okay. That causes his body to clench painfully, the relaxed state the hoodie had put him in disappearing as his body tenses.

The 3rd and final thing is the floor as he collapses. His knees bang against the carpeted ground, jarring his injured leg so bad he swears he sees purely white for a few seconds. He had managed to throw a hand out to catch himself before he fell further, but that jolts his stomach again and he groans, hunched over on the ground as pain shoots through his body. 

Fuck, Why the fuck had these guys just let Tim Drake hide himself away in his room while recovering from surgery and some type of leg injury!? 

He hears Dick shout, and there’s a hand on his arm, but he can’t process it. Instead he’s blacking out as he’s thrown into a memory, one that he’s 100% is going to be very unpleasant. 

-

He awakes to a tall, cavernous ceiling and white walls. To say he would be surprised is a lie, after the memory had faded he had realized he was in a dream and kind of expected this outcome. Even if the people in Drake’s memories had tried to kill him, or hurt his spirit and made him feel abandoned, he had still loved them and they had still loved him. In some dysfunctional, kind of unhealthy and definitely worth talking to a therapist over, way, but it was still love. They wouldn’t leave him to rot…

Well.

Okay, the Bats were kind of sketchy. Who sees a kid after his splenectomy and just lets him go to his room alone??? If Leslie had been there, she would have rioted. However she hadn’t been, and Drake was very convincing. He’s 80% sure that he was referred to as “the Robin that could lie to Batman” a couple of times in the guy's memories, but that’s neither here nor there. He had managed to convince Jason Todd, Dick Grasyon and Bruce Wayne that, after about 3 days, he was well enough to take care of himself in his room, by himself. The only reason it worked was because Alfred was on vacation and wouldn’t be back for another couple of days. He had, apparently, wanted to come back sooner at the news, but couldn’t manage it. 

And they let him! They were majorly irresponsible, and while Tim himself had used his silver tongue and knowledge to do stupid things, he also knew when to rest. If he didn’t then his brother got it in his head that he didn’t need to rest either, which was NOT TRUE whatsoever. 

Fuck. He wants Tommy. 

But either way, they let him be. And Dick had been right. Tim Drake hated it when the Bats and Bird would coddle him. Well, he hated it outwardly. Internally it made him feel seen, loved and cared for. He thought he could handle this by himself, and that they would check up on him. But clearly they didn’t cause-

Well…

A snap of fingers startles him out of his thinking. When he turns his head he sees Cassandra Wayne, the Black Bat and Tim Drake’s older sister. 

‘Little Brother okay?’ She asks, eyebrows furrowed as she looks over him. There’s a gentle smile on her face, as if to reassure him. 

Tim is so glad that Drake's brain still remembers all the sign language cause he didn’t know this universe's SL whatsoever. 

Tim must sit there thinking for too long, cause her frown deepens. She stands, moving over to the door that separates the medbay from the Bat Cave, and closes the door before locking it. She’s back in her chair without a sound, eyes narrowed. 

‘Little brother,’ she starts, before shaking her head. ‘You are not little brother, are you?’

Tim knows he shouldn’t be surprised at how fast she deduced it, but he can’t help but gape at her. Like, yes, he had Drake’s memories, he knew that she just knew things sometimes, but this was completely different. From what he could tell, dimension travel and even time travel wasn’t unusual in this universe, but this was completely different. 

Every calm and comforting thing about Cassandra Wayne seems to fade as she’s given her answer. Her silent and calm presence turns deadly, eyes holding an unspoken amount of anger and protectiveness. It makes this body want to cry and it makes Tim miss Tommy even more. How many people had seen his brother’s protective gaze and thought he was mad? How many people had mislabelled him as a problem child and left him to rot? 

“Where is Little Brother?” Cass speaks, her voice clipped and dangerous. 

Tim feels a pang of sadness. This girl, no, woman, was looking at the body of her brother that did not hold him. And she knew before anyone else because she always knew. 

“I-” his mouth feels dry and he cuts himself off, trying to lick his lips. “He’s… dead,” he says slowly, as if to soften the blow. 

A myriad of emotions passes through her face at his confession. Anger, pain, sadness, pure unadulterated grief, and then fury. 

In a split second she’s standing, looming over him with a deadly aura. She doesn’t even have to threaten him, he can read the threat in her body language. She just stares, eyes fixated with pure fury on him. 

“I didn’t kill him!” He adds hastily. “I just woke up here and- well,” he gestures to his stomach. “I’m Tim. From another universe. I was tired and malnourished and then suddenly I woke up in this body and I could just tell the owner died…” he trails off, not sure what else to say. How do you explain this? It’s not like he could prove to Cass that he was Tim from another universe, nor could he prove that Tim Drake was dead and he wasn’t the killer. 

Her fury drains slowly as she takes everything in. His words, his body language, everything that has happened so far. Her presence becomes less threatening and she sits back down in her chair, eyes pinned on him. 

“Explain. From the start.” 

Tim sighs. “I was kind of in a prison, I guess. This psychopath had kidnapped me cause he has an obsession with-” he pauses, taking in a breath. “He has an obsession with controlling and hurting my brother. He was keeping me alive but that was it. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I remember waking up and I was in pure agony. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I was in this body, your Tim,” he pauses again, resting a hand over the wound. “I managed to take some painkillers and then I was forced to experience all of Drake’s memories, except his death. I was… thinking everything over, trying to figure out what the fuck happened, but I realized that this Tim had… died. I don’t know if his soul is gone or if it’s clinging on, but the body was still alive, so I’m guessing something magical happened that made me transfer to this body and then get it healed. Then Grayson appeared and I didn’t realize the guy had a splenectomy and so I freaked out when he told me. That hurt a lot and then I passed out.” He stops then, watching Cass as she takes that all in.

Her face is unreadable. The only thing that has changed is the subtle shift of her eyebrows furrowing. She stares at him, and then uses her hand to prompt him to keep going. She can tell there’s more. 

Tim swallows. “I remembered… what happened. Drake was running from some League of Assassins members and one had managed to… stab him. Through his spleen. He had to get emergency surgery to get it out. And Alfred wasn’t here, so he managed to convince his family he could go to his room and take care of himself before he was ready to,” his breath catches there, tears pricking his eyes. He can’t tell if they’re his or Drake’s. “He thought at least one person would visit to help or call him out on his bullshit,” he whispers hoarsely. He notices tears prick Cass’ eyes, but she stays watching him, urging him to continue. “Nobody did. And he just… gave up. He didn’t want to die, but he didn’t want to live either. It was just- the straw that broke the camel’s back, I think.” 

Cass is crying now, soft tears falling down her cheeks. She lets herself cry for a few moments and Tim tries his best to give her some privacy. Eventually she dries her tears, and he turns back to her, knowing she’ll want him to pay attention. 

“You’re… a Tim?” She asks, hesitantly. 

He nods. “Tim Innit,” he offers his hand. “I looked exactly the same in my universe just… different scars, ya know?” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. 

Cass’ hand slips into his carefully and her grip is firm but not overbearing as they shake hands. 

“Cassandra Wayne. Cass.” 

They sit in silence for a few long moments, Tim holding his breath. 

‘I won’t tell them.” She states after a few moments. ‘You can tell them. When ready. Will stay and watch over you.’

He feels a wisp of fondness slither into his heart. “Thank you, Cass. I don’t… should I tell them? I don’t want them to think I’m him, but-” he cuts himself off with a huff. 

‘Up to you. If you plan on leaving, you should. If you want to,’ she stops her hands, taking in a deep breath. ‘If you want to live as Tim Drake, I will not stop you. You are him just different. I can see the same look in your eyes, little brother. You were given another chance at life, and I won’t judge what you decide.’

Tim feels tears prick his eyes and he covers them as a sob breaks free. “Thanks. Thank you. Thank you, Cass.” 

She offers a gentle smile, the same one from earlier when she thought he was Tim Drake. He gives a watery one in return, lips shaking as he silently cries. 

Fuck, he wants Tommy. 

-

It’s by accident that he finds out that someone from his universe is here with him. 

After their heart to heart, Cass assures him that she scrubbed the recording of their talk in the Batcave and that Barbara had agreed to leave it alone. She told Barbara most of the truth, that she had talked to him about something deeply personal that he didn’t want anyone hearing and would open up about with others at an appropriate time. She agreed with leaving it alone and even covering for them as long as she was included when he felt safe enough to tell his family. He agreed, because honestly he, Tim Innit, has the same amount of attachment to all the Bats except Cass. 

As in he barely knew them personally and thus didn’t have a good or bad opinion about them (he didn't have the right to form his opinions on Drake's memories as they weren't his experiences), except for Cass who he decided was the best older sister of all time. 

Tim manages to make it through each of the Bat members as they visit him after what happened. Dick comes alone first, giving him a hug and apologizing and promising him that he’ll be better. When he manages to get a word in, he assures the guy that it was his fault for overestimating himself and that he’ll stay where he can be monitored for as long as needed. Damian comes next, with Dick as a chaperone. He doesn’t say anything overly mean, but he is snarky. He hides behind it to hide how he cares (reluctantly) about Tim, because he’s learning and growing as a person the more time he spends here. He’s not a kid who believes Tim is the enemy anymore. Tim is like, 90% sure this kid has maybe as many issues as Tommy when it comes to trust, so he doesn't get mad at the boy for having to try and rewrite all he knew. He’s not trying to kill him anymore, so that’s a start!

Man, he feels like he’s back on the DSMP, debating on who of those who tried to kill him and his brother were worth trusting and who wasn’t.

Jason is… weird. That’s all he can say about the man. He had hardcore issues, but dying and coming back kind of did that to you. Tim would like to think he got it in a sense, he hadn’t lost all 3 of his canon lives but he did lose 2. Dying fucking sucked, but it probably sucked more when you weren’t supposed to come back and then you did. And then apparently some lady dunks you in a green goo filled pit that makes you immortal and it screws up all of your… everything. 

Yeah, Jason was weird. He still called Drake “Replacement”, though it had a more… fond tone to it. When he was being serious, or could read that Tim was NOT in the mood, he called him Tim or a variation of that (Timmers, Timber, Timbo, etc), but he was still a major dick at times. He wasn’t perfect, but he’d apologized for trying to kill him and was trying to be something like a brother to Drake (though he was gone now, so it was all going to Innit during that interaction after his collapse). 

Bruce was… an adult. A fully grown adult. He was still pale from months of being in a coma (which was where a lot of apparent healing-adjacent talks and interactions happened from what Tim could recall in Drake’s memories), but he was steady. It scared Tim. Every single adult he’d ever known, aside from a couple of neighbors, had left him and other children to rot. His parents were a great example, only coming back every few months with new treasure and new friends, with life lessons that never stuck and words that cut sharper than any knife. Most of the adults in the DSMP were cool at first, but a good chunk of them dropped the ball hard after the first war and especially during and after Pogtopia vs Manburg.

He also knew that Drake had so many mixed feelings about Bruce that it made his head spin, even though they weren’t his emotions. He could feel the swirl of them in his memories and it irked him. Not because he thought Drake had to feel a certain way, but because he didn’t want to feel the way the guy did. They weren’t his emotions, his emotions were fear, panic and wariness due to the adult who was trying to be something for him. Plus, he was apparently the world’s greatest detective, and Tim was trying his best to not get caught before he had time to even think of what he wanted to do. 

Alfred was last. If he noticed something was up with Tim, he said nothing. Instead he scolded him gently for convincing his family he was fine, and then gave him tea and some food that was easy on the stomach. He also whispered reassurances and told him he loved him. If Tim teared up at that… no he didn’t, it was clearly Drake’s emotions. 

Steph had called him and he had let her ramble and rant until he fell asleep by accident. He thinks Cass dealt with the call cause when he woke up after that, she was there, playing with the phone. She hadn’t asked anything, even though it felt like she had some more questions, and instead pointed to where voices were coming from. 

“Yesterday afternoon there was a supernatural power surge here in Gotham, we can’t track the exact location yet, but the JLA said that at the exact same time there was a similar surge in the UK, and…” 

Tim knows the conversation continues but he can’t hear any of it. Yesterday was when he got here. So the logical conclusion (to him and Cass) would be that supernatural power surge was because of him. And if there’s an identical one, that means someone else is here. Whether they’ve taken over another body or they were just teleported here is to be seen. 

What if it was Tommy? What if his brother was here? It was a long shot, it could literally be anyone from his universe, they didn’t even have to be from the same server! Which was assuming in the first place that the surge was because of someone from his universe. It was a logical conclusion with the evidence being himself, but it wasn’t a certainty. 

But there was a chance. And even if it wasn’t his brother, what if it was someone else he knew from the server? What if it was Dream? The world mechanics here were very different from theirs, but he could still do a lot of damage if he wanted to. That guy was crafty. Or what if it was another minor? Like Tubbo, Ranboo, Purpled? They’d be stranded here with no idea what’s happening, and Tim just left them to rot cause it was ‘most likely not his brother’? He had the means to look into it, and if he didn't, it would haunt him. 

He glances at Cass, about to state his needs, but he pauses at the look on her face. She's not looking at him for once, instead looking off to the side with her eyebrows furrowed. In less than a second her eyes are on him, steel in her gaze. 

‘You have to tell Kon.’ She states simply, with an air of finality that makes his skin prickle. 

Tim's eyebrows furrow. “Cass-” he starts, and cuts himself off. He doesn't know what he wants to say. He's barely had time to think about what he's going to do, all he's done so far today is interact with the various bats and birds. And now she's mentioning Kon, who-

Tim pauses, going unnaturally still. 

Kon as in-

“Boyfriend,” Cass says, quiet but firm. “Can't-” she cuts herself off with a huff. ‘Don't hurt him. He loves Tim Drake so much. Don't do that to him.’

Tim wants to point out that he's hiding this from the guy's family, but he also gets why it's different. Kon and Drake had been like soulmates or something. He would probably be able to tell that something was fundamentally wrong with Tim if they interacted, and even if he couldn't, that was wrong on a whole new level. It was one thing to accidentally get your consciousness put into the body of yourself in an alternate universe after they died and continue living with the family that they lived with. It was a whole other thing entirely to then pretend you were still that person to their partner and go on dates, date them, etc. 

Plus, he could tell that this wasn't something he could just simply break off, not without hurting Kon. And even though Kon's not his boyfriend, he was still a really kind and caring person from what he'd seen in Drake's memories. It wasn't fair to lie to him, or even Bart, Cassie, Cissie, Greta and Anita. From what he's seen from Drake's tenure as Robin and then Red Robin, those of them in Young Justice had been a family when they had no others. Not in the way they needed them. Not in the way that mattered. 

To Drake, Young Justice was his first family. His parents were never there and the Bats weren't all sunshine and rainbows at first. Even if they hadn't been perfect, they were each other's and that's what mattered. 

“I need to tell all of them,” he relents after a few moments. 

Cass looks so sad but understanding, her hand finding his arm. She gives it a light squeeze. ‘I'll help little brother tell them.’

He gives her a small smile. “Thank you, Cass.” 

First order of business: tell Young Justice he wasn't their Tim. After he was healed enough to do so, of course, because he wasn't letting Drake die again. Even if the guy was gone, he wouldn't be careless with his body.

After that? He would worry about rebranding (he wouldn't be able to stay Red Robin, not when he's not Tim Drake), and figuring out who exactly came here with him. Hopefully it was his brother, he'll never be able to stop the ache in his chest until he sees him again, but no matter who it was he will be there. To help them or to stop them remains to be seen. 

-

Tim has been in a lot of nerve wracking situations, ones that usually had more at stake, and yet this one was the worst he’s been in by far. Not that he thinks any of the Young Justice members will hurt him, especially with Cass there, it’s just…

He feels so bad. Their friend, the guy they loved, their Robin, was dead. And here Tim was, stuck in his body. None of them could have done anything for Drake’s stubborn ass, and he didn’t want them to drown in their own sorrow due to it. Drake made his choice and now Tim Innit has to live with it. Literally. 

Cass helps him get all of the old Young Justice together. Kon, Bart, Cassie, Cissie, Greta and Anita all sit with him and Cass around a table in the Titans tower. None of the other Titans, on duty or off duty, are there. Between the two of them, despite being Innit and not Drake, they'd managed to clear the place and loop the feed so they could have this… conversation. 

Kon had tried multiple times to approach him one on one, since he was the first one there, but he kept putting distance between them. Tim knows, okay? He knows Drake and Kon were in a relationship, and that them, alongside Cassie and Bart, had a not-so-lowkey QPR thing going on. And he also knew that this group right here was his first family, the ones who loved Drake unconditionally. Even after people left, died and they disbanded, they were a family. 

Him though? Tim Innit? He wasn't theirs. 

“What's up, Rob?” Cissie bites the bullet, arms crossed.

Tim sighs. “I'm going to be blunt with all of you, because he would want me to,” he starts, feeling the anxiety in his gut tighten and curdle. “I'm not Tim Drake. He passed away the other day. I'm an alternate version of himself whose consciousness was transferred to his body after he died. I don't know who did it, why they did it, or how they did it. You guys are the first to know outside of Cass,” he gestures to the girl beside him. “I do plan to tell the other Bats, but seeing as Tim Drake is dating people here, both Cass and I thought it was important to tell you all first.” 

The room is silent enough to hear a pin drop. He watches as many emotions flit across all their faces. Confusion, denial, anger, sorrow, sadness, hurt, etc. It takes an uncomfortable amount of time and silence for the news to settle. And then it's chaos.

Kon is on his feet in an instant, eyes wide, staring at him with a resolute kind of denial. Bart, who had been sitting still (for a speedster) and fidgeting with his hands, looks sad but understanding… no, not understanding. He looks… unsurprised in a sense. Cassie is shaking, Cissie's hand squeezing her shoulder so hard there’d be bruising if she wasn't a demigod. Tears are falling down both of their cheeks, Cissie's near silent while Cassie's are borderline hysterical. Greta is frozen in place, her face stuck in one of horror, her eyes flitting between everyone. And Anita is upset, hands clenched on the table, eyes staring at Tim with anger. 

“Tim, this ain't funny,” Kon states, his southern accent mixing with the pure grief in his voice. 

‘Not a joke,’ Cass replies quickly. ‘This isn't our little brother, just his body,’ she explains. 

Kon's face scrunches, tears sliding out of his eyes seemingly against his will. “That's not- It's not possible, I woulda heard him-!” He insists, hands clenched. 

Tim can see the way his TTK has spread throughout the room, an attempt of silent comfort for his friends. Tim can feel it reach him and Cass even, which makes him shiver. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to that feeling. It wasn't bad just… weird. 

Whatever Tim's face is doing, or his reaction to the TTK, makes Kon tumble to the ground. Bart is at his side in an instant, pulling him in for a hug. 

“He's gone?” Greta asks quietly, tears sliding down her cheeks quietly. She still hasn't moved, but her eyes are back on him, looking him up and down. “Rob's gone?” She asks again, hands shaking where they rest on the table. 

“He can't just be gone!” Cassie insists. “He promised. And he's- you're-!” She gestures to him, trying to get her point across. 

“I'm sorry. I'm not him. I know it's hard to prove, but Cass has already confirmed.” 

Cass nods slowly, sadly. “Little brother gone,” she confirms again, verbally, her voice small and sad. 

Tim gives them time to break. If there was any comfort he could offer them, he would, but he's not any good at comfort and he's sure they don't want it from him. The guy who's wearing their family member's face. He's not sure how he would react or feel if this situation was his own brother. He doesn't think he'd be an asshole to him, but he'd still sure as hell need time to prepare.

After a few moments, the group manages to pull themselves together. Kon now sits between Bart and Cassie, both of them pressed against his sides hard, as if to ground him. Cissie is holding Greta’s hand, who has managed to pull herself together enough that she’s not crying anymore. Anita's face is twisted in pain and anger, but she doesn’t say anything, just watches over her friends. 

“Why are you telling us this?” Cassie asks, her eyes narrowed. “So what if some of us are-” she pauses. “Were dating him.”

“I also was forced to live through his memories,” Tim admits after a few moments. “I know of your history, and I am aware of what Young Justice meant to him. I’m not him, though, and I don’t want to pretend to be him. That’s not me, I’m not Tim Drake. And it felt unfair to only tell Conner when everyone here at this table was as important to him as he was.” 

Cissie and Greta suck in sharp breaths. 

“That’s not-” Greta starts, eyes flitting from Kon, to Tim, to Cassie and Bart, and then back at Kon. 

“Greta, it’s fine,” Kon speaks up gently, giving her a reassuring smile. “Rob and I were on the same page about our feelings. You guys matter to me just as much as you matter to him, and vice versa,” he assures. 

She nods, sniffling slightly, and Cissie gives her hand a tight squeeze. 

“Okay, then what’s the plan?” Cissie speaks up, catching everyone’s attention. 

“Plan?” Tim asks, eyebrows furrowed. 

Plan for what…?

“You said you’re an alternate version of Tim, which means you have a plan. Tim always had a plan, an end goal. What’s the goal? What’s the plan? Are you here for help? Are you staying here? Attempting to go back to your universe?” She explains. 

Tim blinks. He doesn’t remember the last time he felt this… seen. He’s not Tim Drake by a longshot, but they were the same person just from different universes. They had different life experiences, hell their universes seem to run off of different fundamental laws, but they were still different versions of each other. They were similar, but not the same. 

“Right,” he nods. “The JLA told Batman that there were 2 identical power surges at the same time I got here, one in Gotham and one in the UK, though they couldn’t track down the exact location for each. This points to someone else being teleported here at the same time as me, whether under the same circumstances or not is to be known, and it’s unknown whether it’s someone from my universe or not. Going off of the assumption they’re from my universe, it’s unclear whether they’d be a threat or an ally to this universe. And whether I'm staying here or not depends on who it is. The current plan is for me to find out who teleported here at the same time I did, find out their motivations if they’re not from my universe, and then work on getting a way back to my universe if needed. The priority right now is the other interdimensional traveler.” 

As he talks, each of them pay rapid attention. There’s no one cutting him off, no one questioning his logic, and no one trying to tell him he’s wrong. It’s just him explaining his plan and being listened to. When was the last time someone had even paid attention to his plans? Sure, Tommy would always listen to him (with interruptions, but those were always welcome from his brother), but he steadily got more and more ignored in the DSMP as more time passed. No one listened when he tried to help strategize during the first war, and he hadn’t gotten upset at the time cause it felt very casual. And then as time went on, especially during the Pogtopia era and when they were putting Tommy on trial for burning George’s house down, no one would listen. 

“What are the conditions for staying and leaving?” Cassie asks as soon as he’s done explaining. 

Tim takes a deep breath. “In my universe, I have a brother. A twin brother. If, by some miracle or curse, he’s the one who’s here, I want to give him the opportunity to decide if we stay or not. If it is not him, then I’m going to fight for a way back or die trying.” 

He notices the surprise from everyone, including Cass, when he mentions Tommy. And he doesn’t imagine the flinches when he mentions dying. 

“What’s your brother’s name?” Kon asks gently. 

Tim tenses instantly. And then he remembers that he’s the only one here with a sibling (aside from Greta but Harm does NOT fucking count). That makes him relax slightly, despite the way his mind screams to keep him secret, keep him safe, don’t let Dream or Wilbur or Technoblade hurt them, don’t-

“Tommy,” he manages to reply, forcing the thoughts away. “Tommy Innit. I’m Tim Innit, by the way.” He still hates the way his accent sounds wrong and he has to actively try if he wants to sound like him. The way ‘Innit’ rolls off his tongue sounds wrong. 

His parents were British, even if his accent was more American, and so was Tommy. Tommy ate, slept and lived his identity of being British. And Tim’s accent sounded similar to his, but not enough to call them out as growing up together. He missed it. 

“Tommy and Timmy,” Cassie says with a snort, before backtracking. “Sorry, that’s what we called our Tim sometimes.” 

He waves her off. “I don’t mind nicknames. And even if I’m not your Tim, I won’t bite your head off. It’s an adjustment period. You’re going to look at me and see him, it’s inevitable as I’m in his body. I don’t need unnecessary apologies, I know you guys aren’t being malicious or anything. And even if you were, it’s probably deserved, because I’m stuck in his body so I can’t even let you guys mourn properly.” 

Bart, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, snorts. “Forsomeonewhoclaimstobesodifferent, youact SO similar.” He states with a crooked smile. 

“What-” he starts, confused, but Anita cuts him off with a huff. 

“He’s right, you both have that quality of putting yourselves last. You have the self preservation instincts of a paper bag.” 

“Okay, hold on-!” Tim starts again, leaning forward, but this time it’s Cissie cutting him off. 

“You just told us we had the right to act malicious towards you for something out of your control,” she deadpans.

“Okay, when you say it like that it-” 

Cass giggles and he turns to her, absolutely flabbergasted at the betrayal. 

‘It’s okay, little brother just needs some help.’ She states with a gentle pat on his arm. 

“You guys are insufferable, Prime,” he says with a groan. 

“Prime? Likethedrink?” Bart asks, head tilted. 

“No, it’s like saying ‘God’ or ‘Gods’. You say ‘Prime’ or ‘oh my Prime’. Prime is a God. Kind of. It’s complicated,” he waves it off, giving up on explaining the intricacies of what Prime is.

Server Gods were hard to explain to people from his universe.

“We’ll need to compare notes on world differences,” Cassie muses. “Your world sounds… interesting, so far, if you have a God named Prime-” 

“Technically only a server god,” he grumbles quietly, ignoring the looks it gives him. 

“Other than that though,” she continues. “Are you here, formally or informally, to ask us for help with your plans?” She asks, her leader voice back on. “If you are, you’ll need to inform the rest of the Titans and probably the JLA about the death and switch up before we can officially help you. Unofficially, we’re down to help with anything that won’t get back to our mentors before you’re ready to announce to the Hero Community that Tim Drake is dead. There’s also the matter of can you fight and-” 

“I can fight,” he cuts her off, needing to say his piece. “I’m planning on telling the Bats soon, like, within this week. And after that, Red Robin will be dead,” he informs. “I have Drake’s muscle memories, but I’m not a bo staff user. Nor do I know how to use all the other gadgets and tech that define a Bat. I can do certain stuff based on muscle memory, my own skills, and Drake’s memories, but that’s not me. I’m someone who fights with a sword and shield, or a bow or crossbow. Hell, I could probably fight better with a fishing rod than I can a bo staff, no joke, so I can’t be Red Robin.” 

“Afishingrod!?” Bart gasps out excitedly, hands flapping as he vibrates in his seat. 

“How does that-?” Kon asks, confused. 

“Trust me, where I’m from? It does. But we also have things like potions, crafting tables, enderpearls, and so much more. My world has different fundamental laws compared to here from what I’ve seen.” 

“Tell me you’re not naming yourself something as bad as ‘Red Robin’?” Anita asks, an eyebrow raised pointedly. 

Tim squawks (and Prime, does that sound so wrong from vocal chords that aren’t built like a proper avian’s), and knows he’d be chirping in protest if this was his body. 

“Red Robin is not that bad!” He insists. 

“Dude, you didn’t choose the name, you don’t have to defend it,” Kon deadpans. 

“Okay, fine, whatever,” he rolls his eyes with a sigh, ignoring Cass as she raises an eyebrow at his dramatics. Maybe Drake wasn’t dramatic enough, but Innit had learned a lot by being Theseus Kraken Danger Innit’s (name pending) twin brother, who was then taken in by Wilbur fucking Soot (the bastard). “I’m going with the name Sparrow.” 

“You JUST said you’re not a bat,” Cissie points out. 

“I’m not. There’s like, an 80% chance I’m leaving this universe, I don’t want to live in a world without my twin. Also I’m an avian in my universe, so the bird theme is appropriate.”

“You’re… a bird?” Greta asks slowly, confusion dripping off of her words. 

Tim snorts. “Bird hybrid. I guess you could call hybrids like metahumans? There’s still discrimination despite at least half of the population being beings that are decidedly not human, or at least not fully human. I was actually a sparrow hybrid, and we’re pretty sure Tom’s an eagle hybrid. They call us avians, or avian hybrids, but mostly just avians.”

“So you’re a meta now?” Kon asks. 

“Do I look any different from last time you saw Tim Drake?” Tim asks, gesturing to the body he’s in. “It’s not like this body is gonna randomly sprout wings. This body isn’t mine, so I’m not an avian hybrid. I was one though, and the bird theme fits well with Gotham anyways, so might as well.” 

“Okay, all of that aside,” Cassie takes control of the room once more. “Do you need our help, Tim?” She asks once more. 

“I will after I tell the Bats the truth,” he replies after a few moments of thinking. “I want to tell them, and then we’ll probably tell the JLA in some sort of way, and then I want to go look for the other interdimensional traveler. If the JLA finds them before I’m cleared, then I’ll need some help making sure I get to deal with it.” 

“Define deal with it?” Kon asks after a moment. 

“Depending on the person depends on my response,” he replies truthfully. “Most, if not all of who it could be from my universe, will want to go back. I’ll help them get back to our universe, I’m out of your hair, you get to properly mourn Tim Drake. If it’s Tommy, depending on if he wants to go back or not, then we’ll decide and I’ll do anything in my power to give him what he wants. If it’s…” he trails off, anger and pain making his stomach roll.

He feels as if he’s back in that obsidian cell. Too weak to move, to call for help, to do anything. But still alive. Because as long as he had faith his twin was alive, he would stay alive. He refused to die like that, in a tiny cell, having last seen his brother when there was TNT raining down on the country he built with his blood sweat and tears. The country that had chewed him up and spit him out over and over again, and yet he still loved to death. 

Tim refuses to let Dream take control of him once more. 

“If it’s Dream, he’s dead on sight,” he spits out honestly. 

Bart doesn’t react besides his head tilting. Cissie looks vaguely sick but understanding, Greta looks sad. Anita looks understanding, and Kon and Cassie give him sad but not pitiful looks. Cass reacts the most, leaning forward in her seat, eyes wide. 

‘Little brother-’ she starts, but pauses, looking so sad. 

“I’m not him, Cass,” he replies, firm but gentle. “You’ve been amazing, and I’m sure despite our differences, you view me as my own person and as your brother, but I’m not Tim Drake. I don’t have a no kill rule. Where I’m from that shit gets you killed. I’ve already died twice, I’m not risking my final life because that bastard decides he wants to power play a bunch of teenagers.”

She frowns, eyes flicking across his face and the way he holds himself. ‘This man hurt you? Hurt your brother?’ She asks, lips pursed. 

He nods, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Yeah… most adults in my universe have failed us kids, not gonna lie,” he laughs bitterly, the suffocating feeling of being trapped and weak bearing down on him. 

“Sounds familiar,” Cissie replies with an understanding smile. 

Greta offers a small smile as well as she nods along, and he knows most of the others are in agreement. The only difference now would be that if any adults had tried to help the other minors, he wasn’t there for it. These guys' mentors and families tried to be better now, way better then when they were younger, but it wasn’t the same and probably never would be. The adults in their life had failed them, albeit a bit differently for Tim and his fellow minors, and he knew they all knew the feeling well. 

“Personally, I don’t care about you killing this guy,” Anita speaks up. “If you’re deadset on it, you know yourself the best out of everyone in this universe combined. But the JLA will care. Tim’s Bats will care. And even if you plan on leaving, you sure as hell better tell the rest of the hero community you’re not our Robin before you kill anyone.” 

Tim nods. “I understand and I will,” he promises. “Again, I plan to tell the Bats within the week. I’m just not sure exactly how to tell them yet,” he sighs, hiding his face in his hands. “Why is this world so complicated?” 

“Soisyours!” Bart insists. “Youhave hybrids!!!And POTIONS!? Whatdoenderpearls even do????” 

“When you throw one, it’ll teleport you wherever it lands,” he explains. “They’re harvested from endermen, they’re a type of mob in my universe. They’re creatures who can teleport, so their pearls teleport you, but if you’re not ready you’ll land real rough.”

“Your world sounds more and more like a video game as we talk,” Kon points out. 

“It is another universe, maybe it's based off of a video game or your world has a video game based like it,” he points out. 

“That’ssoCRASH!” Bart nods enthusiastically, rushing across the room to him for a high five (which he reciprocates) and then he’s back in his seat. 

…

Correction, he got food and THEN he was back in his seat. 

Eventually the conversation dies down and he decides to give them space. It would probably be easier for them to break when he’s not there, and he wants to give them proper space to mourn Tim Drake. He deserved it. After living through the guy’s memories, he decided that yeah, that guy deserved a break. And a loving family, which he clearly had with Young Justice (and later the Bats). 

He hadn’t deserved to die. He had so much life ahead of him. He got surgery to save his life and then drew back from his family. They let him because they thought it was what he needed, but instead it’s what got him killed. It wasn’t the Bats’ fault, but fuck did it feel like it was. 

…

After he talks to the Bats, he’s getting Tim Drake a headstone. 

-

Telling the Bats is infinitely worse than telling Young Justice. Like, he already knew that, it wasn’t exactly surprising, but fuck was it scary. And it’s not like he thought he’d die or anything. Cass wouldn’t let him get hurt, even after their small talk about Tim and killing Dream. She cared about him. And he was like, 75% positive the rest of the family wouldn’t try to murder him after the truth came out. They’d probably deny it, call it a prank, do extensive tests, etc. 

At least, that’s what he thought. 

After he’s done explaining what happened (Tim Drake died, he’s from an alternate universe and took over his body against his will, he’s what the power surge was the other day and his universe is vastly different, etc), it’s like all the air has been sucked out of the room. 

The first to react is Jason. He’s standing in an instant, gun out and pointed at him. Dick reacts to his reaction instantly, and Tim is only distantly aware of Jason’s threats, his eyes being drawn to Damian. The boy is staring at him. He doesn't blink, nor does he move. All he does is stare. His face is pale, mouth slightly open in surprise. His eyes are wide. Despite all his assassin training, he’s gaping at Tim like he just lost one of the most important things in his world. 

Maybe he has, his brain supplies. And it’s not like Tim Drake would know how important he was to Damian, even after their reconciliation during Bruce’s coma. Drake didn’t understand how important he was to anyone, that’s why he died cold and alone in his bedroom, all the fight drained from his weak body as he drifted and drifted and-

Steph is crying, he realizes belatedly. He can’t tear his eyes away from Damian’s yet, but he does notice her out of the corner of his eye. The blond is crying her eyes out, and Cass is a silent support at her side, a gentle hand on her shoulder. She’s also keeping an eye on Duke, he notices, who is looking between Bruce, Tim, Jason and Dick like he can’t process what’s happening. His usually bright face is marred with sadness.

Barbara is trying to intervene between Dick and Jason once she realizes Bruce won’t. Her sadness is visible though, in the way her shoulder shakes and she has to blink back tears as she separates the boys. 

Tim watches as Bruce finally finally moves, but all he does is move his head to look at Cass. She notices his gaze instantly and they have a silent conversation. He feels a bit intrusive as he watches it, but he can’t bring himself to look at Damian again when he just managed to look away. Despite not being Drake, it still hurts. He knows these guys are the guy’s family, he had loved them with all his heart, and Tim was just a stranger in his skin. 

“So it’s true,” Bruce murmurs, which causes the room to quiet down. Even Steph attempts to stop her sobbing, head jerking back as she looks at Bruce. 

“You don’t really believe that-!” Jason starts, his gun put away but his eyes flashing green in danger danger danger-

“Little brother gone,” Cass confirms, making everyone’s head swivel towards her. ‘It’s a Tim but not ours. He’s nice.’

“You knew!?” Steph exclaims, jerking backwards as if she was burned. “You knew and you didn't-!?” She gasps, betrayal and anger and so much pain swirling in her eyes. 

“I asked her not to,” Tim speaks up for the first time since he explained everything. “I needed time to process and she figured it out before I was ready to tell anyone. I understand you’re upset but it’s not Cass’ fault that we’re in this situation.” 

“You shut up!” Jason shouts, hands flexing. “You don’t get ta walk around here in our brother’s body and just pretend to be him-!” 

“Which I’m not doing,” he replies firmly, feeling his anger rise. “I have never claimed to be Tim Drake. I literally JUST told you I wasn’t. You don’t get to act all high and mighty with me just cause you’re upset and grieving. I understand any emotions you have, but I never claimed to be him. I’m not Tim Drake. That’s the entire reason we’re having this conversation in the first place.” 

Jason reels back when he mentions grieving, and all the fight seems to drain out of him. His eyes go back to their blue ringed with green instead of full green and he slumps down into his chair. He’s crying now, silent cries that he hides behind his arm. 

Bruce is still stunned and Steph is still upset and crying, Cass trying her best to reassure her despite the girl’s outburst earlier. Duke is crying silently, tears falling down his scrunched up face as he attempts to stop them. He furiously rubs at his eyes with the back of his hands and arms. Tim wishes he could make them feel better, but he can’t cause he's not Tim Drake.

“What's your name? And why exactly are you telling us this? We would've noticed eventually, you didn't have to outright tell us.” Barbara manages to speak up, trying her best to keep her emotions in check. 

“Tim Innit. I'm this guy, just from an alternate universe. We look exactly the same, just slightly different scars n such,” he introduces himself. “And that would be such an asshole move, why would I do that?” He raises an eyebrow. “I was forced to go through Drake's memories when I got here, and I know how important you guys are to him. I'd be a dick to not tell you guys that your family member is dead.  If someone took over the body of my dead brother,  I'd want to know. Especially if I was unaware of him dying.” 

“That's very kind of you,” Dick starts with a small pain filled smile. “I guess we're just not used to Tim being so… forthcoming.” 

“Not Drake,” he replies without a second thought. “We might be similar, and I might be in his body, but I won't act like him, not fully. You're allowed to feel however you want about it, but I'm gonna be here for a while whether you like it or not.” 

Tim notices out of the corner of his eye as Bruce manages to pull himself together. And then he's Batman, not Bruce. He sits up a little taller, having gone through enough of Drake's memories to know this guy was dangerous and could overpower him, especially with how this body just had a splenectomy. He was recovered enough to move around and he could protect himself, but still. 

“Report,” Batman says robotically, eyes distant. 

Tim raises an eyebrow at him, mouth quirked into a frown. “Excuse me?” He asks. 

See, he might have Drake's memories, but, and he'll say it again and again, he's not Tim Drake. He's wary, yeah, but he's not gonna act like he's Drake or even Red Robin when he's not. 

The big guy falters a bit and then schools his face. “Explain your plan.” 

Tim nods, smoothing out his face. “Sure. I overheard you guys,” he gestures to everyone, “talking about the identical supernatural power surge in the UK. Which just so happened to be at the exact same time as the one here in Gotham, that just so happened to be when I woke up in this body. The most likely explanation is that whoever sent me here sent someone or something else. Most likely from the same universe as me, but we shouldn't rule out that they also could be from another one.” 

“Wait, so that surge in Gotham was you?” Jason asks gruffly, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

He still seems angry and upset, but he's not yelling at Tim anymore, nor is he threatening him, so he takes that as a win. 

“Not my fault, but it does coincide with when I got here and Drake passed away,” he explains, ignoring as everyone sans Batman winces. “Anyway, I'm going to track down if someone from my universe is here. If they're not inhabiting someone who passed away like I am, then their signature should differ from this universe I assume. At least their genetic makeup should be considering you guys don’t have a lot of things we do have in my universe, and if you do, they’re distributed or used differently.” 

“Like what?” Steph asks curiously. She’s not crying anymore, but she has been sniffling off and on due to her runny nose. 

“Take potions for example. Magical substances like that seem more limited here, or if they are used most use them for villain related reasons. In my universe, basically everyone grows up knowing how to brew potions and use them for everyday life.” He would kill for a regen potion right now, actually. He’s only 70% sure it wouldn’t kill him after his surgery. Healing potions were highly rejected when you’re healing from something like a surgery or death, forcing the body to heal too fast had consequences, especially if done over and over. Regen was recommended more than healing, but still sometimes advised against. 

“That seems unsafe,” Damian speaks up for the first time, eyebrows furrowed. His voice doesn't have the usual snark but is still unkind sounding. 

“Depends on the server,” he waves him off and then ignores the questioning looks they send him at the mention of servers. “That's not important. If they're from my universe, I'll decide what to do with them-” before he can continue, Batman cuts him off. 

“No. The JLA will decide what happens with you and whoever else is here from an alternate dimension,” he states, voice firm. 

Tim scoffs, and channels the energy of the DSMP adults as he stares down Batman. “I'd like to remind you that this conversation is a courtesy from me. I'm not Tim Drake. You are not my family. I don't work for the JLA, nor am I technically a bat. Red Robin is dead. Tim Drake is dead. I'm going to find out who's here to make sure they're not a threat. And then I'm going to do everything I can to get back to my brother. You can either help me, or stay the fuck out of my way.”

“You are in our universe, you can't expect to just gallivant around and make decisions about people's lives. We don't know you, nor will we allow you to-”

“Allow?” Tim asks incredulously. “I get where you're coming from, I really do, but if this person IS from my universe, then you don't know jack shit about what they can do! What if they're a hybrid or another species you're unfamiliar with!? What if your materials meant to contain metas doesn't work on them!? And you don't even know who is here! What if it's one of my friends? Are you going to lock them up if they get too aggressive because you've backed them into a corner!? What if it's one of the Gods from my server!? You guys have Gods, and demigods and magic users, but you still don’t know anything about where I’m from,” he tries to reign in his anger and stop yelling. “You might have contingencies, and so did Drake, but you don’t know a damn thing about my universe or the people from there. You don’t get to decide what happens to them, I do.” 

“For the safety of our universe, how are we supposed to trust you?” Batman asks in return. 

“Cass does,” he replies, resisting the urge to just leave and deal with everything himself. “And I’m not saying you have to trust me, I’m saying you have to trust that I know what’s best when it comes to people from MY universe. If you came to mine, and there was another person from here that you were tracking, I’d let you deal with them. This might be your universe, but it’s someone from mine.” 

“It’s still-” Batman starts again, but someone cuts him off again. Surprisingly, it’s Damian. 

“Tt. Father, Innit has a point,” he states plainly. “If we were dealing with the League of Assassins, you’d ask for my, Drake or Todd’s input. If it was a meta we were dealing with, you’d default to the other metas who are familiar with them first in the JLA. We’re unfamiliar with Innit’s world, just as he is mostly unfamiliar with ours. It would be strategic to default to Innit when it comes to someone from his universe.” 

“Also, you didn’t even let me finish,” Tim adds plainly. “I’ll be able to tell if they’re from my universe, especially if they’re from my server, so if the person isn’t, you can do whatever you want,” Tim adds. “I’m not trying to step on anyways toes here, but I will if that’s what it takes to get back to my brother.” 

Batman seems to take in their words, shoulders tight before he relaxes. 

“Fine, but we’ll need to discuss everything with the JLA first. If you’re not Red Robin, you’ll need a secret identity while we work on this. It’ll be a stealth mission, we’re not going in gun’s blazing. At least one of us will have to be there with you, but teams can be decided after we inform the JLA,” he relents, Batman still there but softening edges into Bruce. 

‘I’ll be there,’ Cass decides, no room for argument. ‘Little brother and I will decide on the team.’

“He’s not our brother,” Jason snarks, his fingers digging into his arms as he stares at Cass. 

She frowns at him. ‘Tim is always little brother.’ She states firmly, eyebrows slanted. 

“He literally told us, multiple times in fact, that Replac-” he cuts himself off. “That Tim Drake is dead.” 

‘Tim Drake is little brother. Tim Innit is little brother too. Simple.’

“Cass-” Bruce (he has, once again, shed his Batman persona for his family) starts, eyebrows furrowed. 

“It’s fine,” Tim cuts in. “Cass views me as my own person, she’s not seeing me as Drake. That’s why I keep reiterating it. I’m not gonna act like him, and I’m not going to pretend to be him so you guys can replace him in your head or something,” he explains, pointedly ignoring Bruce’s scrunched face full of pain.

The word “replace” makes Dick, Jason and Damian flinch, but he ignores them as well. 

Cass smiles at him gently, which he returns softly. He could get used to not being the older sibling, honestly. Despite being twins, Tim was older and he had a better memory than Tommy, so he had taken to being their caretaker. Their parents were nearly never home, and when they were they weren’t caretakers. They were more like… drill sergeants? Or something like that. They didn’t care for them, they expected them to be perfect and not get in their way. 

At the very least, it had helped both Tim and Tommy learn to take care of themselves, together and alone. That had really helped during SMP Earth and then the DSMP. 

The point is, if Cass wants to be his sister, he’d like that. She sees him as him. That’s all he could ask. 

Jason bristles but stays quiet, apparently the fight has been drained out of him. He’s not as angry looking anymore, he just looks… sad. The fire in him has faded, leaving nothing behind but a grieving brother. 

“Back to the plan,” Tim redirects, trying to stave off the sad awkwardness. “I’ll be going by Sparrow. No, it’s not because of your Bats and Birds theme, I have my own connection to sparrows I don’t wanna talk about,” he cuts off Dick before he can even start. “I also have the muscle memory, Drake’s memories, and my own basic knowledge to know how to operate in the field, but I don’t have training for being a vigilante, nor do I have training for the weapons Drake used to wield, so I’ll need help acquiring different gear. Depending on how long everything takes, I’d be willing to help you guys in Gotham if you want me to, but I don’t have to. I can just chill at the Titans tower or something,” he shrugs.

“What type of gear are we talking? And do you want a full suit design or no?” Bruce asks. 

“No full suit design unless you plan on employing me temporarily,” he replies. “And I’m going to be honest, where I’m from, I use swords, shields, bows and axes primarily. Anything else probably won’t work here, as the fundamental laws of our two universes are different.” 

“Bows?” Bruce asks with a wrinkled nose, probably thinking of a distinctly grass shaded hero. 

“We’re fairly modernized, aside from the weaponry, but that’s just in my server,” he explains. “No guns, no tanks, nothing automatic, etc. We mainly use swords, shields, axes, pickaxes if the situation requires, bows, crossbows. There’s other things we can use, like we put rockets into crossbows or we use fishing rods, but those mechanics won’t exactly work here. And anything magical related, potions, enderpearls, etc, won’t work either. Also, I’m guessing you don’t want me running around with TNT, which is a weapon that’s fair game if you can use it right. Or flint n steel.” 

“What the fuck is wrong with you world?” Steph asks incredulously, eyes as wide as everyone else’s. 

“Again, different fundamental laws. Which can also change between servers, which is fucking wack by the way,” he shudders, remembering the first time he encountered the 3 Life System (DSMP). 

“That makes no sense-” Dick starts, but Tim cuts him off. 

“ANYWAYS!” He exclaims, forcing a bright grin. “I’d prefer to work with a sword and a shield, I can even sketch out what I want them to look out and anything you’d need about the materials, etc! But if that’s too impossible, then I can work with a bow or a crossbow. Just not a bo, please and thank you. Or smoke bombs. Or Batarangs. Or any of that shit cause I swear on Prime I don’t know how to use any of it properly.” 

‘Can little brother grapple?’ Cass asks, eyes showing worry. 

“Probably, but someone should teach me properly so I can get the hang of it. Again, muscle memories and Drake’s memories, but I’d need to do it myself first.” 

It’d probably be like grabbing someone with a fishing rod, right? At least somewhat similar?

…

Probably not, but a guy can dream. 

“We are not giving you a sword,” Bruce decides after a few moments of staring at him. 

He scoffs. “Okay, that’s rude,” he points out. “You’ve never seen me fight. Why can’t I have a sword?”

“That’s the point,” he replies evenly. “We’ve never seen you fight. You can get a sword after you prove you can use one being non-lethal." 

Tim stills. “Oh shit, I forgot about that,” he nods. He lowkey forgot about the Bats “no killing” rule (which, pot meet kettle or whatever, everyone here except maybe Steph and Signal have killed someone before, he’s not sure). 

Bruce is back into his Batman persona as soon as he hears that, back straightening. “What do you mean you forgot?” He asks, voice low. 

“You’re not allowed to judge me, Bruce Wayne,” he snaps. “I’m not Tim Drake, nor am I a Bat or a Bird. I’m not even from this universe! Where I’m from, killing is different. Similar, but different. Depends on the server, the Life laws, etc. And everyone who joins a server with limited lives knows what they’re signing up for and signs all kinds of paperwork. And yeah, maybe some of us were kids when we did, either signed by ourselves or our guardians, but we knew the consequences. If I’ve permanently killed someone on a server before, that’s none of your business and you can’t judge me on it.” 

Bruce looks as if he’s swallowed a lemon, but he nods slowly. 

“You’re right, Tim. I’m sorry,” he concedes. “It’s unfair for me to judge your past when your world works differently from mine, though I do find some of what you said concerning,” he admits. 

Oh no. This sounds like a ‘concerned parental figure’ talk and so far he’s gone his whole life with the only one talking to him like this at all being Philza Minecraft. But he did that for most of the minors, until like, Techno and him decided to blow up L’Manburg and yeah-

Prime, maybe asking the guy who imprints on most soggy wet cat teenagers like they’re going out of style to help him when he’s just that and also inhabiting his dead son’s body was a bad idea. 

“Anyway-” he decides to redirect again. “I’ll work with a bow, then. Drake’s practiced enough in most weaponry so his body should be able to handle it after it’s healed some more from the surgery,” he replies.

“After you’ve healed enough, you should spar us as yourself,” Damian decides, something blazing in his eye. “It’ll be the easiest way to differentiate you from Drake. If your personality and actions are as different as you keep spouting, then so will how you fight, and we’ll see that and it’ll help us be sound in the fact that you’re not Drake.” 

Tim tilts his head, ignoring Dick and Bruce’s surprised expressions. “Sure. I’m not an expert on hand to hand, though. Not like you guys, at least.” He was taught how to fight with his hands, but not in the same way these vigilantes were. He could probably coast based on muscle memory, but A. He can’t rely on it too heavily for everything and B. He preferred more range between his enemy and himself. 

“Tt. If you had planned to pretend to be Drake, you would have failed,” Damian replies. “He might not be the strongest physically, but he is already leagues above you.” 

Tim wants to be offended at his words, but he feels a little warm instead. He knew, logically, that Drake’s relationships had grown stronger over time while Bruce was in a coma and they were all struggling. But the guy himself had struggled to see and process it, and this was blatant proof that they had. He felt bad for Drake, but also hoped he knew, somewhere deep down, that Damian truly cared for him. 

“Again, different worlds, different fighting styles,” he shrugs, thinking of the last time he saw genuine hand to hand combat that wasn’t just friendly sparring. 

And then he remembers the pit. That dreaded, awful, hurtful pit. 

He remembers how he nearly killed Technoblade. Or, he nearly attempted to kill him. He, especially at that time, would never beat the Blade, not in hand to hand nor with swords. 

He remembers the aftermath. 

"The thing is, Tommy - you're using words... but the thing about this world, is that the only universal language is violence, and we've had that conversation - in the pit. On to a new day, to a new plot - to destroy Manberg."

The pit hadn’t been friendly sparring, but it hadn’t been genuine hand to hand either. It had just been a teenager fighting a guy who had stolen one of Tubbo’s canon lives. It had just been Tommy, his younger brother, taking hit after hit after hit, and then being told “It stays in the pit.” 

Fuck, Tim wishes he had Tommy with him. 

“So no one taught you to protect yourself?” Jason asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, they did,” he nods, grin turning sharp. “You ever want to find out how, feel free to approach me after I’ve healed.” 

If only he had his trusty flint n steel. That had kept himself and Tommy safe when they had to venture out alone. Or if he had his enchanted sword… well, actually, due to the no killing rule and how life is viewed VERY different here, that would be a bad idea. If only fishing rod mechanics weren’t so different here… though that could also cause instant murder, actually. 

Most battles they fought were to the death, whether it be another person or a mob. Or they were wars. 

Jason mutters something about ‘jackass teenagers’ while Dick and Steph start laughing. He, thankfully, doesn’t feel like he’s intruding, but he also doesn’t feel like he should be here. Some of it was probably lingering Drake feelings, and most of it was due to not being a family member. But he was now friend-adjacent? Friendly? Team-adjacent? 

He’s not sure, but he’ll survive. He always does. 

(And the only reason Alfred isn’t there is because he knows already. Tim had told him vaguely before seeing the others, and he reassured him that he already figured it out due to his and Cass’ interactions when he was in the medbay. He also assured him that, as long as he played by the rules, any version of Tim was his family. That felt nice.)

-

They tell the JLA next. It’s a sad affair, most giving the Bats their condolences. And then they go into planning mode. 

Since Tim was still recovering from getting his spleen taken out, he had let Cass go ahead to the UK to scope it out. They had deduced that the centerpoint of the supernatural power surge wasn’t where the person who was transported was. The readings were in a circle-esque shape, and if you drew another circle about a 3rd in, that line was around where they would be. It was weird, but it helped knowing Tim’s exact position when it happened. 

Cass is given a scanner that’s meant to help find metas, and anyone whose genetic makeup was even slightly different from those in this universe. Tim had taken the time to compare what he knew and the normal genetic makeup of people in this universe and deduce it was different enough based on what they knew. There was a lot of medical talk that he wants to forget, but the point is that the scanner works. 

Well, they couldn’t exactly test it on anyone, seeing as he wasn’t in his body, but it should work. Cass would look for people, and keep a meticulous record of them. Barbara would help track them down when she could, and any information on them would be passed to Tim until they found who they were looking for. 

He wasn’t allowed to go himself until he healed and could beat at least on Bat in any way shape or form while sparring. He found out real quick what it felt like to train with the Bats, cause holy shit, it sucked. He missed sword forms or the methodological way he’d practice with his bow. He missed taking a fishing rod to rocky mountains and plains to practice hooking mobs and throwing them up in the air, or keeping them still while he worked, or drawing them to him so he could attack. He missed how things worked in his world. 

Though it wasn’t all bad. He was given a bow and was glad to give a demonstration of his skills. He wasn’t nearly as good as Roy Harper or Green Arrow (the former having come to the cave on Bruce’s request to make sure he was doing it right), but he’d gotten commended on his skill (mostly by Roy, he seemed chill). And he drew out a sketch of typical sword and shield builds in his universe to Barbara on her request. She promised to help get him his favorite kind once he was given clearance, so he went with something she called the Greek xiphos sword (as that was the type he used mainly), and then a normal shield. She requested (i.e. told) him to get it without the wood and he agreed as long as she could make it light enough he could still carry it. 

It was weird not having a hotbar. It was like a built-in backpack that everyone had where you could draw your needed item at will. It was useful and just something you had in his universe unless you were a certain species or in a specific type of server. He also missed his com, cause if he had that he might’ve been able to talk to Tommy and ask him how it was. Alas, even if he hadn’t been put into a different body that wasn’t his, Dream had taken his com when he had locked him away. 

Prime, he does NOT miss that cell whatsoever. Even if he’s sad over Tim Drake’s death, he’s glad he’s out. Especially since it means he can get back to his brother.

It’s mostly awkward with the Bats/Wayne’s. It’s not particularly anyone’s fault, but it was a weird ass fucking adjustment. Like, yeah, your brother is dead! I was forced to inhabit his body! There’s no time to mourn cause the world could, potentially, be at stake! Yippee!

He needs better coping mechanisms. 

It’s the small things, though, that help them come around to him not being Drake. There were small mixups at first, recalling certain memories that weren’t inherently his, expecting him to know or do things a certain way, etc. Even how they called his name sometimes tipped him off, and he’d give them a pointed stare or ignore them. Except for Cass, since she’d already known for a bit at that point, but she was also in the UK with limited contact. But the more small things that add up seem to give the family room to grieve and realize he’s not Tim. 

Like, Tim Innit doesn’t need to survive off of caffeine. He’s not a coffee drinker, nor did he like energy drinks or any of that shit. Tommy liked them sometimes, and holy shit, Tubbo fucking lived off of them after a certain point in their life (probably the elections? or his second canon death?) but he’d never been a fan. He survived off of good old fashioned spite and insomnia, thank you very much. Tim Drake though? He THRIVED off of it. Not coffee though, he preferred his different energy drinks (he thinks Kon mentioned Zesti MULTIPLE TIMES when he saw him drinking straight up water once). 

The most surprised the first time they realized he didn’t do caffeine was Alfred (outside of Young Justice). Thankfully his body was already recovering from surgery and the butler had been working with Tim before that to help him cut back on caffeine, so he didn’t go through withdrawals. That would’ve made everything worse. 

Drake fell asleep in the worst places, apparently. He remembers Dick mentioned finding him sleeping in a chandelier once when he was going to mess in it to annoy Bruce. He accidentally woke the boy up with how he shrieked and Tim had cursed him out before falling back asleep. Alfred and Bruce had to talk to him about falling asleep in appropriate places, which he agreed to. Sometimes.

He couldn’t do that, though. Even in a new body, his paranoia became too great. Sleep was a weakness. Most on the server slept hidden away, deep down where they couldn’t be found (unless you were people like Technoblade, Philza Minecraft, Dream, etc), or they used potions or caffeine as work arounds to get past sleep. Or you could take sleep shifts, back in the early L’Manburg days he remembers doing sleep shifts with Fundy, Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo and Eret. He’d felt safe enough with them to let himself actually pass out. And then when Eret betrayed them, that all changed. They’d done the same thing in Pogtopia, but all that sleep was restless and he always woke up feeling more tired than before. And after the wars, he still ended up doing it with Tubbo and Tommy, then eventually Ranboo as well, until Tommy was exiled. Then he felt too unsafe to take sleep shifts for Tubbo for a while. He got why he did it, he did, but that was his brother (which Tubbo was one of the only ones to know, alongside Ranboo). They worked past it, and until Tommy came back, he trusted Ranboo and Tubbo to watch over him while he slept and he would do the same for them in return. 

Then he got captured and he could never properly rest, too weak to let himself do that. All ‘sleeping’ was more like closing his eyes and opening them right away, with uncertain amounts of time passing as he did. He couldn’t process passing out and it never felt like resting. 

So sleeping anywhere? He couldn’t do it. He only managed to fall asleep curled up in the far corner of his walk-in-closet (they’d given him a new room in the manor, still in the family wing for some reason) with all entrances closed and locked twice over. Or, if someone watched over him that he trusted to stay and do just that. At first it had been Cass, but one of the Core 4 (or 2 of them if it was Bart, cause sometimes he got distracted) put themselves in that position afterwards. He didn’t fully trust the Bats to stay and he didn’t want them spending an unknown amount of time watching him sleep. Plus they needed space from him still, he didn’t want them to spend too much time with him when they were still mourning Drake. 

His mannerisms were different too. Drake had distinct things he did and routines he followed, but he couldn’t do them. Like, when it comes to working on anything digitally? He was so much slower than Drake in that manner. He was smart but they didn’t really have computers. He had grown up in a modernized server but they didn’t have access to computers as a kid. And he knew the basics of use due to other similar technology and his time spent on SMP Earth, but DSMP didn’t really have anything like that. And he also had Tim’s memories, so he could do things, he was just… slow. 

Or the way he trained. He’d never really sat down and stretched before a battle before. There wasn’t really time, even when they were prepping for the war for L’Manburg or Pogtopia vs Manberg. There were other things to do, things to stock up on, potions to brew and take, armor to secure. Stretching was big for most heroes though, even metas (not all of them, of course), and the Bats would not let him do any training or exercise without stretching. 

The biggest difference that they clocked, though, was his fighting. Not that it was particularly unexpected. 

Once he was healed enough to fight (or enough for a Bat), they had experimented and tested his knowledge. The first thing they did (after stretching), was spar. It was him and the bo staff vs Dick and his escrima sticks. They had requested he fight with the bo first, just so they could see the differences between how he wielded it and how Drake did. 

He wasn’t… terrible with it. He had Drake’s memories and his muscle memories, so he could work with it. But he didn’t have the fluidity that Drake did, and he knew he never would. He’d have to be re-taught by Lady Shiva to be similar to him in any shape or form, which wasn’t happening and wasn’t something he wanted. Dick wasn’t going all out against him. He was a little bit insulted, but also very thankful. He still lost, though, because that wasn’t his area of expertise. At least Dick had given him an encouraging smile.

After that he was given a practice sword, one built of wood and a similar way to his normal sword of choice (thankfully). His opponent was Damian that time, who also had a practice sword, and wouldn’t be going all out. He felt better with it than with the bo staff, though this body wasn’t used to fighting the way he was, so it felt slightly off. He’d never really thought of it, but calluses form in different places depending on how you train and what you train with, and the way he gripped the bo felt more familiar than the sword in this body. He held his own as well as he could, getting used to the grip of the sword again, trying to adjust to not having enchantments that enhanced his sword strength. He didn’t have a shield while he fought, which probably would’ve helped him get into the groove of sword fighting again, but he didn’t mind. He lost, of course, and Damian looked at him with narrowed eyes afterwards. 

Next was hand to hand with Bruce. He was distinctly Bruce when they fought, not Batman. He would get flashes of memories from when he would practice with Drake in his Robin days, but he shoved them aside. He knew the guy was also holding back (as everyone was), but he wasn’t bothered. Again, he wasn’t trained in hand to hand combat, not truly. He did his best, though. He used every trick he knew how to from growing up alone and then in the DSMP, playing dirty if possible. Tim had always been wiry, whether Drake or Innit, so he used that to his advantage to be slippery. Hand to hand wasn’t just about punching people, it was about fighting without long range weapons and doing your best to come out on top. It was about being able to take down your opponent without a weapon or with handheld weapons (like knives). It was about reading your opponent and finding the best way to strike back. It was about staying alive. (Or maybe it wasn’t, but that’s how he took it.) 

So he stayed alive for as long as he could, letting himself be scrappy and dirty, aiming for the eyes, dancing out of reach when possible, using anything and everything to his advantage. Of course the fight was over when Bruce managed to pin him down onto the mats, but he’d held well enough without any proper training on how to fight someone with only his body, no weapons. Bruce had called him “passable” so he figured he did enough (though he knew no proper techniques, which would definitely be worked on later). 

The last step was shooting. Jason did pull out his guns, but they’d also invited Roy Harper (as mentioned earlier) to come as well. There was a range set up for them, and Jason went first with his guns. He hit all his shots where he wanted to, and that meant he was dangerous and highly skilled. Roy went next, demonstrating his exceptional bow skills (which Tim was lowkey jealous of). He hit every single shot exactly as he called them (except for one, but he was only slightly off).

Drake had practiced with a bow before, so the movements felt familiar to the body. However he hadn’t been practicing consistently enough for calluses to form so after some shots he could really feel it. It wasn’t bad, he wasn’t bad, but he did feel tender and sore so much sooner than he thought he would. It made his shots slightly veer off course, not big enough to be called failures but enough that he knew. Still, Roy had been mildly surprised at his skills, even though he was one of the heroes more aware of his past.

Those were the moments that really solidified to all of the Bats that he was NOT Tim Drake, and he felt better knowing that. It let them truly mourn their family member, and it felt easier to be seen as his own person. 

After a month, they finally get some results. After training, while the Bats would patrol, he would go over the people who were sent over by Cass after she stalked them. Every single one so far had been a bust, he could tell they were from this universe. Until he sees him. 

-

Tim is well aware! he’s having a panic attack, okay? Okay?

Thankfully he’s alone. Kind of. He’s distantly aware that he’s laying down on the floor in the Batcave and that the Bats would be back from patrol soon, but he just-

JUST-

Fuck, he can’t breathe. His chest hurts. He’s hyperventilating, which he knows, objectively, is bad. But he can’t manage to force air into his lungs and he needs to breathe so he keeps trying. His chest just starts hurting more, though. More and more pressure is building, like he’s going to explode. Everything feels wrong. His clothes are itchy. He can’t manage to focus on one thing and the world is blurry and shapeless. 

He feels trapped. He’s back in his cell, laying on the ground, too weak to move. He’s back to short, sharp breaths that are hard to force out. He’s surrounded by dark obsidian walls that he has a pickaxe for but he’s too weak. He’s hungry but he’s out of food. He’s just wasting away on the ground, too weak to do anything, let alone protect his brother. 

He full body jerks when someone grabs his shoulder. His vision is blurry and he tries to move his hands to protect himself, but they just flop around uselessly. He’s already crying but he just feels more tears fall silently down his cheeks, gasping noises coming from somewhere close, each one in time with his chest thumping with pain. 

“Breathe, Tim, you need to breathe,” someone says, but he can’t make them out nor can he use their voice to identify them. His brain feels like it’s running a mile a minute yet like it’s full of molasses. He’s over thinking, and panicking, but he feels so slow. He can’t think. 

He can’t breathe. Someone tries to direct him through a breathing technique but it doesn’t help. He can’t follow them, he can barely process them. They’re too far. He can’t reach them. He’s going to die and his tombstone is going to read “Forgot ho-

He jolts. It’s jarring. There’s something oh so cold sitting in his hand. It’s- It’s ice. He clenches his hand automatically and he can feel the slippery cold in every part of his hand.

He shudders and realizes he’s in his body. He’s not laying down anymore. There’s no obsidian, no mining fatigue, no stupid bed and food dispenser. 

“There you are, Tim, can you breathe with me, please?”

His other hand is moved to someone’s chest. And he can hear said person exaggerate his breathing. He realizes, belatedly, that it’s helping. The pain in his chest starts to lighten, and he can feel himself slow down his breathing, trying to match the one that’s being overly pushed onto him. Eventually, it works, his breathing evens out. With that his tears slow down until they stop completely, and his vision becomes less blurry. 

When he’s finally back into his body as much as he can be after a panic attack, he looks up. Jason is there in front of him, his eyes holding concern and panic. The panic slowly fades as he realizes Tim has stopped panicking, replaced with relief. His hand is let go and he can feel that the ice in his hand has melted somewhat, which makes him drop it. 

Ew, icky, not between his fingers please. 

“Can I touch you, Tim?” Jason asks, as if he hadn’t touched him multiple times during his panic attack.

Tim nods slowly, letting the man pick him up in a princess carry and bring him to the medbay. He’s placed down on a cot, still laying down, and he feels himself start to relax. This was the same cot he was placed in when he first got here, after his body had shut down. It’s familiar enough that he feels safer than on the floor in the cave. 

Jason stays with him, only leaving for a couple of minutes to change out of his suit and take a quick shower. Tim spends that time curled up, trying not to think of what set him off. The guy sits down beside his cot in the chair Cass was in last time, and pulls out a book to read. Watching over him. 

“What are you doing?” Tim asks, ignoring how thick his voice sounds and how it shakes. 

Jason raises an eyebrow at him. “Gettin’ yer ass to sleep,” he replies in a ‘duh’ voice. “I’ll watch over ya until the other Bats get here and we can talk about the case.” 

Right. The case. It was pretty obvious he was looking through the likely candidates since he had been doing it on the batcomputer monitors. Which means everyone is going to know, when they arrive, that he has news. Jason would be more aware that they’d found the guy, since he found him in the middle of having a panic attack over it, but the others would just see the open documents, him missing, and assume there was a development. 

Tim knows he’s grown weak since he got here. Emotionally. He got too complacent, enough so that he was driven into a panic attack just from the guy's face. None of that would've happened on the DSMP, but he's felt more safe than he has since fucking early L'Manburg. He got so used to being wound up, and only slighting untensing with Tommy, Tubbo and Ranboo, that when he had felt nearly fully relaxed, he'd gotten fucking triggered. Fuck. This was bad, especially if he was going back to his world. 

Tim trusts Jason and lets himself doze, not fully falling asleep. He thinks it takes about an hour for everyone to come back from patrol, popping in to exchange a few words with Jason and then heading to the showers. Once everyone is there, though, Jason wakes him up and they head to the meeting table. He sits him down a bit forcefully between him and Dick, not giving Tim any say. But he doesn't mind, he's too out of it and exhausted to care. 

He manages to send each of them the file that triggered him earlier without sending himself into another panic attack. He makes sure everyone looks over the file before he starts talking. 

“This bastard is Dream, and he's absolutely a threat. Either because he's willing to do anything to find a way back to his server, or because he's set his sights on this universe or a new person here,” he states plainly. “Also, I can assure you that this is his body, not him taking over another's. You can tell by his genetic makeup being off, and I can tell because that's his stupid face with that stupid fucking scar.”

“You really hate this guy,” Dick speaks a bit hesitantly, as if wanting to ask why but refraining. 

Jason snorts, eyes promising dark things as he stares at the image of Dream on his phone. “Ya fucking think, Dickhead?” 

Tim stands abruptly and suddenly he’s just ranting. He can’t hold it in anymore, his fear and panic has melted into pure anger. He starts pacing behind his, Dick and Jason’s chairs, hands pulling at his hair. 

“He’s a fucking asshole bitchboy who’s hurt more people than I can count on both of my hands! He’s killed, he’s manipulated, he’s stolen, he’s a fucking dictator who thinks it’s fun to take away everything important to teenagers so he can control them! He blew up L’Manburg twice! He craves control so bad, got my brother fucking exiled! He’s more obsessed with Tommy’s fucking discs than HE IS! Not to mention whatever the fuck he’s doing to mess with Ranboo! That guy sees his stupid iconic smile and gets triggered harder than Toms does, which I didn’t think was possible! Not to count the way he treats his supposed ‘friends’, and manipulates people into thinking everything is Tommy’s fault, which, newsflash! Isn’t fucking true!! Fuck, he even stuck me in that STUPID OBSIDIAN PRISON and I’d probably be dead by now if I hadn’t been sent into this body and-!” 

“Tim Innit!” 

Tim’s eyes snap to Jason, feeling his body falter. He sucks in a breath as he realizes what he just admitted. He hadn’t wanted to mention any of that. Especially in front of the most overprotective people he’s probably ever met. He might not be family but he was still their friend at this point, if Jason helping him through a panic attack didn’t give that away, so he knew they cared. They shouldn’t care. They couldn’t solve his problems, he wasn’t from this fucking universe. He thought of staying, if Tommy was here with him, but he wasn’t, and he’d never leave his brother alone in fucking hell for such a fucking selfish reason as wanting to feel safe.

There was no place in this world or any others that he felt safer than with his brother. (And also with Tubbo and Ranboo, but the pair didn’t need to know that.)

“Tim, you need to breathe,” Dick says gently, approaching him slowly and telegraphing his movements. 

He watches him approach, and realizes he’s holding his breath. He releases it and yet he can’t manage to breathe properly. He does not want to have another panic attack right now. He lets Dick guide him through box breathing, and he can feel his panic subside as he manages to intake oxygen properly. He’s still very much not okay, but he can breathe and he can think, which is the most important thing at the moment. 

His first instinct is to flee, and he barely suppresses the urge to turn and run. Mostly because it won’t make everyone forget what he said, but also cause like… they’d all catch him pretty fast and he’s had 1 panic attack too many to slip away easily. He genuinely wants to disappear, or have everyone forget his outburst, but he knows he can’t. So he waits to see how they react, arms holding himself in a mock version of a hug. 

“Bud, we’re not mad at you,” Dick starts, offering what he thinks is supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Do you think you're up for more questions, or would you like to take a break?” 

Tim takes a moment to take in the question, and then he takes a few more to think. He really really wants to just leave. If he left, he didn't have to talk about it. But if he left now, they'd still have questions and they'd find different ways to corner him and get him to answer them. Not that he couldn't resist, but it'd be such a hassle. And it is pertinent information relating to the Major Bad Guy that's now in their universe. 

He sucks in a breath, loosening his hold on himself. “What do you want to know?”

-

Tim is going to skin Dream alive for making his life so complicated.

After getting through the conversation that was “What has Dream done to you and the people you love?”, which felt like running nails over a chalkboard, they’d come up with a plan. The guy had managed to use his admin powers to keep himself alive for now, and had amassed technology, with his hideout being an old abandoned warehouse. You’d think a server admin would be better at protecting himself from potential hackers, but Oracle had gotten into his computer like it was nothing. Thankfully, even with his admin powers still working to some degree, he hadn’t gotten too far in whatever plans he had made. Most of his time the past month or so had been spent researching extensively the different heroes and villains, as well as metas as a whole, and anything else along those lines. He had some documents outlining a bit of what he wanted to do, but Barbara refused to let him see them

She said he was already triggered by the guy enough, and that all he needed to know was that they’d lock him up or send him home and put him in prison.

The plan is to corner him when at his base. They don’t want to get the public involved, nor do they want a big fight. They just want to capture him as quickly as possible. Based on their intel, his full powers aren’t available without being in his server. Admins were more powerful than your average hybrid, but not as powerful as Gods. When they’re off their servers, they’re whatever their normal designation is. But, probably due to universe hopping and not just server hopping, Dream still had some of his admin powers. Mostly he could lightly influence the world around him, like telekinesis but in a small radius. He still had his armor, his weapons, and even his hotbar (which Tim was SO FUCKING JEALOUS OF), but he couldn’t do everything he could back in the DSMP. At the very least, he was fully human so it wasn’t like they had to account for that either. 

He was still dangerous, though, especially with his hotbar. He wouldn’t put it past him to have enderpearls, or TNT, etc. He could have access to so many things that Tim didn’t, but at least he knew how to counter them. And he wouldn’t be alone, nor would it be just the Bats. 

The team was Tim, Cass, Jason, Kon, and Cassie, with Roy for cover fire in the rafters if needed and Bart on standby for extraction. The rest of the Bats had to stay in Gotham, but would be watching over them from afar, due to Jason coming along. He wasn’t going to originally, before he learned just exactly the type of shithole Dream was. After though? He refused to let them do the mission without him, so the other Bats had to cover Crime Alley for him. 

Tim is like 80% sure Dream might die before he even makes it to any prison or their original universe, but he doesn’t actually care.

The plan was simple: Tim would expose himself to Dream to get him to lower his guard and when he was distracted, Cassie and Kon would restrain him. Cass and Jason were there in case it turned into a real fight, Roy was hidden away but on standby to help with anything he deemed necessary, and Bart would be signaled if they needed to get out quick. After they captured him (if Jason didn’t kill him first), there would be a cell on standby in the Watchtower to confine him, built based off of Tim’s knowledge mixed with their meta confining technology. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it was the best they could do for right now. And they had to be quick, especially cause Tim really needed to focus on getting home and they didn’t need another fucking supervillain in this weird ass fucking universe. 

Of course, everything goes wrong, because why wouldn’t it!

-

Dream stands across from him. He’s got his defenses up, his arm hanging loosely at his side with his sword in hand as he studies Tim. His mask is secured on his belt, so he can see his blond hair, blue eyes, and scarred face in all its glory. It makes him sick to think that he can vividly remember Dream’s face while Tommy’s is blurry in his mind. 

“Tim?” He asks curiously, eyebrows furrowing as if he’s not sure. 

“Hey there, bitchboy,” he snarks in return, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

It’s just him and Dream. No backup, no one else is there. Just them. Make him think it’s just them.

His eyes narrow, but he smiles sharply. “It really is you,” he murmurs. “Why do you look wrong?” He asks, his sword dematerializing. 

“Wouldn’t you like ta know, weather boy,” he responds without thinking and then holds back his wince. Pissing the guy off was not what he wanted to do. 

Thankfully, he only narrows his eyes but doesn’t get physical. Not yet at least. 

“How’d you find me?” Dream asks. “I took your comm and this place doesn’t have coordinates like the server.” 

“Dream, you’re trying to get back, right?” He deflects, ignoring the way his skin itches. 

“What, to the server?” He snorts. “Tim, don’t you get it? I brought us here,” he explains, his smile widening. “Being stuck in the prison was a bore, but then! Then I remembered I had a failsafe! Why would I wait for Techno to come and set me free when I could just free myself!” 

Tim gapes, surprise and confusion coiled tight in his stomach. “Y-You brought us here?” He asks, before remembering the more pertinent question. “You were in prison!?” 

Dream chuckles. “Right, you were out of commission during that,” he waves it off. “Doesn’t matter. Don’t you get it, Timmy? We’re the only ones here in this universe from ours and even if we could get back, why would we!? We’re fundamentally different from the people here, think of what we could do! I know we’ve had our differences, but who else can you rely on? Team up with me, Tim,” he throws his arms out into a wide sweeping gesture as he speaks. “Think of all we could do together! You’re one of the better of the child soldiers from L’Manburg, and I know how smart you are, which no one else on the server recognizes. Think of all the possibilities, Tim!” He had started walking closer to him at one point and now they stand barely a few feet apart. 

Tim can see his manic smile, and the way his guard has mostly dropped. He’s trying to manipulate him. Play on his insecurities, make him think he’s his friend and that he’s the only one here who sees him for him. It’s a smart tactic, especially for kids who were abandoned, but he forgot one major thing.

He’d already tried this trick on Tommy and while it had worked for a moment, it had still ultimately failed. 

He’s not stupid enough to exclaim “Now!” like they do in the movies, but he does give the signal. A quick handsign from the hand that rests behind his body, out of sight from Dream’s wild eyes. Not even a second after he gives the signal, Kon and Cassie have Dream by an arm each and there’s a bullet wound in his shoulder. 

That should’ve been the end of it. They got the guy, Red Hood and BlackBat descending from their hidey holes to slap some meta cuffs on Dream (to see if they work), with Kon’s TTK helping hold back whatever Dream is trying to do with his limited admin powers. They should’ve been done. 

And then it’s like reality stops functioning properly. The walls blend together, the floor turning to mush. He suddenly feels so cold and yet he feels sweat pooling on his forehead. He’s sinking, and also flying, the world is tipsy turvy. He’s vaguely aware of the people around him, but everything is wrong and then-

Nothing.

…

He gasps awake to the sight of obsidian. 

Oh. 

Oh no. 

No no no no no no-

“Tim!” 

There’s hands on his shoulders and that snaps him out of his panic. He jolts into a sitting position, looking around with wide panicked eyes. He’s back in his obsidian cell, back in his prison, except…

He’s still in Drake’s body. He can’t feel the oppressive feeling of mining fatigue (which Dream had found a workaround that made it so only he felt it and no one else), and he’s not weak, dehydrated or starving. But his brain isn’t playing tricks on him. This is his cell. It’s just-

Also now there are 4 other people in it.

…

Wait, scratch that, 5, because-

Is that him!?

Laying on the ground, just beside the bed is… Tim Innit. His body, at least. His body which is still taking in air, if the slow and small rise and fall of their chest is any indication. His body which is still alive. Not that he thought he died or anything, but he also didn’t think he was alive either. But he was. His body was, actually. 

“What the fuck?” He croaks out, ignoring the other’s questions as he wobbily makes his way towards his body. 

He falls to his knees beside it, noticing that his eyes are open but unseeing. Most likely passed out. He shakes his shoulder gently, trying to bite back his budding thoughts about how fucking surreal this all is. 

Eventually, his eyes gain clarity and slowly are drawn to him. When he sees him, he jolts backwards, letting out a surprised sound. 

“T-Tim Innit?” The body asks, and he just knows. 

“Tim Drake?”

The guy manages a weak smile, as if his hypothesis had been proven. Knowing himself pretty well, it probably did with his confirmation. 

So they switched bodies. After dying. He must’ve actually fucking died in this stupid cell, fuck. Did his comm let the server know? Did they think he lost his final canon life? Fuck, this was bad. 

“Little brother?” Cass calls quietly, and both of them turn their heads to look at her. 

Jason is standing at her side, looking confused as he stares at both of them. Kon and Cassie are on her other side, looking just as confused but also looking around their surroundings still for potential threats. 

“Cass, Jay, Kon, Cassie” Drake breathes out, turning slightly, his hand twitching as if to reach towards them. 

In almost an instant, all 4 of them are at their sides, all of them with varying levels of shock. 

“Tim? Darlin’?” Kon asks gently, his voice tinged with hopefulness. 

“My-My clone boy!” Drake squeaks out happily, voice high and breathless. 

“Holy shit, Replacement, it’s you,” Jason says reverently, a hand going to his wrist as if to check for a pulse. 

“Wonder boy,” Cassie states, relieved tears falling down her cheeks. “I thought I lost you too. Again.” 

Drake chuckles, which quickly devolves into coughs. Tim feels a cold fear run through him. 

Even though the body had died, when they’d switched bodies, everything had repaired itself. Kind of. They still had life threatening injuries, but it wasn’t like they were dead or as close to death as before. So that meant Drake had been stuck here for a month or so, slowly dying due to minimal food and no escape. 

He doesn’t want to interrupt their meeting, but they’ll be mourning him another time if he just lets them be. 

“Tim, can you look at me?” He requests. 

The guy doesn’t verbally respond, but he does turn his head and eyes towards him. 

“You lived through my memories, yes?” 

He nods. 

“Good, that means you know how to summon things from my hotbar. I need you to think long and hard and bring me my pickaxe. If you can do that, we can get out of you, get you some milk and keep you alive, okay?” 

Drake nods again, closing his eyes. Everyone stays silent as he concentrates, and then there’s a slight ripple in reality as Tim’s enchanted diamond pickaxe appears in his hands. 

“Yes! Amazing!” He compliments, reaching over to pluck it out of his hands. “Jason, I need you to carry Drake, he won’t be able to walk with the amount of potions and mob effects still affecting him. Be very careful with m-” he cuts himself off. “With his wings, they’re sensitive from not being taken care of. Kon, Cassie, you’ll need to fly above us and be our spotters. Cass, you take the rear, I’ll take the front. We’ll be getting out of this prison and then heading straight out of the building, no doors, no nothing. Just out. I’ll get us to a nether portal. No questions until we’re safe, understood?”

Everyone nods, even Drake, and then he sets the plan into motion. It takes no time at all to break the obsidian with his personal pickaxe + no mining fatigue. After that he directly breaks the wall of the build around the obsidian, having Kon lower them all down since they’re on the second floor and he’s in a body not built for the same mechanics as this world. After that he leads them through a forest, and keeps running until they come upon a place he never thought he’d see again. 

Tommy’s camp during exile lies before him, just the way he left it. The tower where they thought he took his life taunts him, the holes in the terrain from holes, items and TNT. Everything is breaking down around them, Tommy’s old tent rotting. It’s a well abandoned place, and it was the perfect place to put his little prison by since no one came out here like, ever. 

He stops them once they reach an unlit nether portal. He turns to face the little group, lips pursed. 

“Drake, I need another item. Do you think you could get me my flint n steel?” He asks, fingers crossed. 

The guy furrows his brow and thinks, until it materializes. He takes it with a grateful nod, and then faces the group as a whole. 

“You might need to puke after we go through the portal, that’s normal if you’ve never stepped through one before. And also, the Nether is hot. Like, hotter than hot, so be prepared. We’re moving fast, and there will be a path between the portals, but monsters may still spot you. Do not engage, run. Kon, Cassie, no flying too high, and if a Ghast shoots at us, try to deflect the fireballs back at them. No questions.” 

They nod again, and he knows they have so many questions, but they don’t have time. They have to get somewhere safe before Dream finds them. Even if he comes back and he’s in prison, they’re not safe until they make it to allies. Which means Tubbo and Ranboo. Thankfully he hadn’t gotten captured directly after the 3rd war, so he knows where Snowchester is and how it’s their home, they just have to get there first. 

It takes about 2 hours of nonstop running, but Tim feels relief soar through him when he sees the giant mansion of Snowchester. He hasn’t been here since it got built, but he knows that that’s where his friends are. And if not, then he can head towards where Tubbo’s original house was, he remembers that much. 

He barely has time to knock before the door is being yanked open and they’re all being ushered inside. He sees a glimpse of one red and one green eye before they’re all being shoved into a living room. He hears the door close and whirls around to make sure they’re okay and that it’s his friends. 

And it is. 

He hasn’t seen them in so long…

Tubbo looks nearly the same, except one of his eyes is a startling yellow color now. And he’s dressed for winter, obviously, instead of his old suit or his original outfit that was inspired by a character he liked. Ranboo also looks the same, just with some scars under his eyes now like he’d been crying more recently. And his suit is less put together, more casual than it used to be. 

Tubbo’s eyes pass over him and go straight for Tim Drake. Who’s in his body. Shit. 

“Timmy, what’s happening?” He asks, taking a step towards Jason who’s still holding him. 

“That’s not me,” Tim speaks up without thought, and four eyes snap to him. 

“Why do you look like Tim?” Ranboo asks, flabbergasted. 

“Look, this is going to sound crazy, but basically, I died and so did this guy,” he gestures to his body, “who is me from another universe. We died and then switched bodies, so our bodies came back to life. So I’m Tim Innit in Tim Drake’s body, and that,” he gestures towards his body, “Is Tim Drake in my body.” 

The two take a moment to process all that, Tubbo’s eyes narrowing. 

“Prove it.” 

“Tommy’s my brother. Twin brother,” he blurts out. It’s the first thing to come to mind that no one else would know or even think of. 

They had similar eye colors, both blue, but where Tim’s were sharp and bright, Tommy’s had always been a bit darker, a bit deeper. And even though they were twins, Tommy got their mom’s blond hair and he got their father’s black hair. Plus, he was a sparrow where Tommy was an eagle. They were twins but they looked so different that it was easy to pass them off as close friends.

One second the pair are staring at him, the next he has an armful of two of his best friends. He takes a moment to hug them back, basking in their warmth. He’s missed them. 

They pull back eventually and Tim watches as “Work Tubbo” takes over. 

“What do you need?” 

“Drake needs milk to counteract so many effects that were forced on him. Plus some food, not too much at once though because he’s been starving for awhile. I need a spare comm, and you need to call Tommy here. Once we’ve done that, we need to debrief, and we cannot under any circumstances let anyone else know that we’re here.” 

Tubbo nods. “Ranboo, can you go make some food? I’ll whisper to Tommy, I think he was taking Shroud and Michael to see Puffy.” 

“Shroud and Michael?” Tim can’t help but ask, faltering as Ranboo teleports away with a little “Vwhip!” 

“Our kids,” Tubbo explains. “I’ll have him ask Puffy to babysit, wait for the after the debrief for the full story.” 

Tim nods and moves to Drake after Tubbo hands him some milk. 

“Can you sit him up? Again, be careful with his wings.” 

Jason nods, situating him sitting up on the couch. Cass gingerly sits beside him, keeping him upright. He’s thankfully still awake, if only a tiny bit out of it. He brings out the milk bucket, ignoring the looks the others are giving him, and slowly has Drake sip at it. Thankfully, since he’s in a body meant for this world, it’s easy to have him drink the whole thing, even on an empty stomach. He can visibly see as the mining fatigue and other nasty effects wear off, leaving behind his own malnourished and weak body. 

“I brought a golden apple, I thought it might be easier on his stomach than a regular regen potion, as well as some quick and easy mashed potatoes. I thought soft would do better than any of the meat or sweets we have,” Ranboo explains when he enters the room, holding a golden apple in one hand and a bowl with the potatoes in the other.

“Drake, I need you to take at least one bite of the golden apple, and then eat at least a 5th of the bowl of potatoes, does that sound okay?” He asks the one in his body gently, gesturing to the offered food. 

Drake wrinkles his nose in distaste at the mention of the golden apple, but otherwise agrees. He manages 3 bites of the golden apple before shaking his head, and then eats a whopping 3rd of the bowl before he can’t do anymore. Not because he’s not hungry, he looks hungry staring at the food, but because his stomach was starting to hurt a little and he didn’t wanna push the body any further. Or that’s what he said, which Tim is at least grateful for. 

If he gets his body back, he doesn’t want it to be worse off because Drake and him weren’t being mindful of its needs. 

Tubbo is just coming back into the room when they hear a door slam open. Two seconds later, Tommy is practically flying into the room, a feral look in his eyes. It’s still his Tommy, with deep blue eyes like the ocean, and wild blond hair. Which has a white streak in it… and there’s a new scar on his face, on his temple. And, he realizes belatedly, that the eye near it is a bit cloudy. 

“Tommy?” He asks, voice shaking. “Are you- did you-!?” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before his brother is crashing into him, both of his arms surrounding him in a tight hug. His wings flare and then wrap around him as well, creating a bubble of space where it’s just the two of him. 

Him and his brother. 

He chokes on a sob, wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck and pulling him impossibly closer. He can feel a wet patch forming on his shirt where he has tucked his brother’s face against his chest, but he couldn’t care less. This was his brother, his Toms. He hasn’t seen his brother in so long, too long. 

After a few moments of them just hugging, Tim nudges Tommy. He pulls back, wings tucked against his back now, and just smiles at him. 

“You bitch, how could you go and die!?” He exclaims, hands on his hips. It reminds him of when Tommy would go “Karen mode” to make others laugh. 

“How could you go and die on me, ya bastard!” Tim exclaims back, shoving his brother’s shoulder gently. 

He splutters, surprised. “What-” he whirls around to stare down Tubbo and Ranboo. “You told him!? He’s fucking protective as shit!” 

“Gee, it’s so hard to tell that the guy who has a new death scar and a white streak in his hair was revived,” he comments sarcastically, causing Tubbo to burst out laughing and Ranboo to crack a smile. 

Tommy whirls back around, affronted. “Fuck off!” He complains. 

Behind them, a throat is cleared, and the four of them turn to face the couch. 

“Right,” Tim sobers up slightly, grabbing his brother’s arm to lead them to sit down on one of the couches. Ranboo and Tubbo squeeze into the free seat and all four of them are now squished on a couch barely meant for 3. “Let’s start the debrief, we’ll go first.” 

“Cass,” Cass speaks up, pointing at herself. “Jason, Kon, Cassie, Tim Drake,” she introduces the others, pointing at each of them when she says their name. 

“So, from what I’ve gathered, Dream had an escape plan that involved him traveling universes. And I’m assuming that, when he did that, I’d died at the same time or some bullshit like that, and so did Tim Drake,” Tim gestures towards his body. “Due to that, we switched bodies, and kept each other’s bodies alive. We also experienced each other’s memories. My body here was stuck in a prison kind of similar to Pandora's Vault but less extensive, so my body is very weak and malnourished. Drake was recovering from a splenectomy, so I had to rest but I managed to realize that there was someone else from our universe in the new universe I was in. I convinced Drake's friends and family, who are real life superheroes and vigilantes in their universe, to help me find where Dream was and then take him down. However, when we were about to finish the job, reality shifted and we ended up in prison where my body was, and then we made a swift escape here.” 

After his explanation, he turns to the others, silently asking if they have anything to add. When no one says anything, he turns back to the trio and gestures for them to start.

“When you died,” Tubbo starts slowly, face pinched in pain, “it came through to the whole server. It was about a week after Tommy was revived. And then almost instantly after, it said you joined even though you were dead. But none of us could find you, today is one of the usual days we go scour the server for you, so none of us knew what happened. Dream was pronounced missing about a month-ish ago, as well, so everyone's kinda been running around like a chicken with its head cut off.”

“And then today, everything changed,” Ranboo takes over, offering him a comm. He takes it greedily, letting it scan his fingerprint so he can log in. “It said 5 new people joined, RedRobin, RedHood, BlackBat, Superboy and Wondergirl.”

“Wait, everyone knows we're here?” Tim asks sharply, hand clenching slightly around the comm. 

“They know 5 unknown people joined the server, yes,” Tubbo nods. “But no one knows that you're here. And, XD won't tell Dream where you are, so they can't tell you're here unless someone else tells him.” 

“What happened between Dream and XD?” He asks, confused. 

“When the bitchboy went missing, he got SUPER FUCKING angry,” Tommy explains. “He disappeared like, 2 weeks ago and hasn't popped up since.” 

“Is that why you called him a bitchboy?” Jason asks, looking between the four of them with furrowed eyebrows. 

“Where do ya think I get my mannerisms from? My parents?” 

Tommy snorts loudly, grinning sharply.

“Back on topic,” Tubbo commands, catching their attention. “If Dream is back here, we need to actually end this once and for all.”

“And we need to get these guys home and switch our bodies back,” Tim adds. “Their universe has different fundamental laws and world rules. Like, I don't even have a hotbar in this body. And I'm sure Drake would prefer the mechanics of his world.”

Said boy nods. “I don't really like all of… this,” he gestures around him. “It's fascinating, but way too much, much more than I'm used to, and I don't even know how to act with two extra fucking limbs,” he gestures to the wings on his back. 

“Okay, so, 3 objectives. Kill Dream, switch your bodies back, and then get the people from another universe home,” Tubbo lists. “Any ideas on what to do?” 

“Well B and the others will be devising a way to this universe as we speak,” Jason speaks up. “So we can keep that goal on the far backburner for now. Also, I'm all for killing Dream, but Tim mentioned something about him being an admin?” 

Tubbo grins, all predatory. “Don't worry about that aspect!” He chirps. “Tommy's killed an admin before.”

Tim cackles as Tommy whirls around to stare down his best friend. “That was completely different! He wasn't a complete wrong'un like that smiley faced bastard fucking is!” 

“We'll need to talk to Philza,” Ranboo speaks up, lips pursed. 

Tommy and Tubbo both go deathly still. Tim tenses, knowing exactly which bear was poked. 

“We are not going to Phil and Techno Ranboo,” Tubbo hisses, eyes narrowed. 

“I know you don't like them, but think about it,” Ranboo insists. “Philza is the husband of the Goddess of Death. If anyone will have any insight, she will, especially because she would've felt it when Tim died.”

(“Goddess of Death?” Kon whispers to Cassie. 

She shrugs. “Not any of the ones I know, that's for sure.”)

“He's not wrong,” Tommy speaks up after a tense minute of silence. “‘Sides its Philza Minecraft, and Mumza has always been chill whenever she had the time to see Wilb and I.” 

Tim's eyebrow twitches but he ignores it. “We need a baseline, even if it's just Lady Kristin saying ‘I felt you pass on and then I felt you come alive’ or something like that. The only thing we're certain about is that both of us died and that's why we switched bodies.” 

Tubbo clenches his teeth and then forces his whole body to relax. 

“Fine,” he snaps. “But I won't be there, you guys can meet discreetly somewhere else.” 

“Enough planning,” Cass interrupts, drawing every eye to her. “We need to rest,” she explains, gesturing to first Drake and his slumped form, and then himself, who had started anxiously fidgeting a while ago. “Little brothers tired, everyone is tired.” 

“Right, right,” Tubbo nods, standing. “I can direct you guys to some rooms, just let me know how many you need.”

“One for us,” Kon gestures between himself and Cassie.

“Two for us,” Jason adds, gesturing between himself and Cass. 

“I'd like to stay with them,” Drake speaks next, pointing at Kon and Cassie. 

Tubbo nods and then jerks his head for them to follow him. They do so without a word, Kon picking up Drake bridal style. And then it's only Tim, Tommy and Ranboo in the room. 

“Hey,” Ranboo speaks up, scooting closer to him so he can rest a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You okay, Timmy?” He asks softly. 

Tim shrugs, leaning over until he's laying down, head in Ranboo's lap with his feet kicked up on Tommy's. “I'm tired. Everything’s been a lot, I just want to rest with you guys. Be happy.” 

Tommy pats his ankle gently with a huff. “Of course its fucking ‘a lot’, it always is with Dream,” he snarks. 

“Your new friends have so many questions,” Tubbo bemoans as he walks back in, forcing Tommy to scoot over so he can sit on the couch. 

“I'll answer them tomorrow, or maybe Drake will since he has my memories,” he waves it off. “Can I hear about these kids, now?” 

“Oh right,” Tommy strokes his chin. “You weren't here when we got married, were ya?” 

Tim pauses. 

“YOU GOT MARRIED!?”

“Platonically,” Ranboo adds. “After the revival we didn't want Tommy dying again, so we kinda just… proposed to him. Plus he could not live in his little hobbit hole with how many people are out to kill him again.”

“Man, I forgot how much this place sucks,” Tim complains. “At least in the other universe the adults in those people's lives were trying to do better.”

“I miss yer accent,” Tommy states randomly, eyes narrowed at him. 

“Yeah, well, this body isn't mine. It's been so weird having to relearn weapons, not because I don't remember how to use them, but because the body doesn't.” 

“Back to our kids,” Tubbo interrupts. “Ranboo and I had adopted a baby piglin, Michael, and Tommy had taken in a spider hybrid, Shroud, after his revival. When we got married we decided all 3 of us will be their parents and try to do better than… ours, ya know?” 

“I get it,” he nods. “I’m glad you guys are happy and as safe as you can be, and I’m sorry that everything has become wacko crazy again.” 

“Not your fucking fault,” Tommy replies instantly. “‘sides, it was bound to happen. It always fucking does.” 

“I want to sleep, who’s taking the first shift?” Tim asks, changing the subject. He's too tired for shop talk right now. 

“I will,” Tubbo speaks up. “I’m gonna plan out how to kill Dream, Puffy mentioned that Sam said he was back in prison so it shouldn’t be too hard unless another outside force gets involved.” 

“You can be evil science-y on that couch,” Ranboo murmurs, gesturing to the couch opposite of them. “We’re gonna sleep.” 

He rolls his eyes but obeys and the 3 of them left rearrange themselves into a more comfortable position. They end up falling asleep in mere minutes.

-

Tim’s watching over Bench Trio as they sleep when the others start to file into the living room again. Kon is holding Drake once again, but he doesn’t set him down when he sits down, just holds him in his lap. Cassie sits on one side of him, while Cass takes the other, and Jason sits on the arm of the couch they occupy. He moves closer to them, making sure to keep an eye on the sleeping trio. 

“You guys sleep well?” He asks amicably. 

“As well as one can in a new universe,” Jason replies, making sure to keep his voice low. 

“Hey, I slept pretty well my first day in your universe,” he points out. 

‘You passed out, not sleeping,’ Cass corrects. 

“That’s basically what I did the first time I got here,” Drake states, head resting over Kon’s heart. 

“Well, to be fair, Dream had had me in prison for a couple months at that point, so I was severely malnourished, and then you were there for another month or so, so passing out is better than dying again so soon after.” 

Drake winces and nods. “Yeah… I'm sorry all that shit happened to you and your family,” he gestures towards where his brother and his husbands (cause he got MARRIED while he was gone) are sleeping. 

“I'm sorry all that shit happened to you and your loved ones,” Tim replies. “I also experienced your memories, and fucking hell, y'all had it rough.” 

“So did you,” Drake insists. 

“Knock it off, you're both pretty and traumatized,” Jason cuts in. “We have some questions.” 

“Mission related questions, or questions about my universe?” 

“Both,” Cassie replies dryly. “First, why do your beds suck?” 

Tim scoffs. “Okay, not all of us are great at making beds, don't insult whoever made the mansion, it's a beautiful build.” 

Cassie pauses, giving him an incredulous look. “Was that bed handmade?” 

“Well, technically. It's most likely a quick crafting table bed or two, which are pretty decent beds but not always the best depending on the materials. However if it was a handcrafted bed, those things are amazing, especially from expert builders.”

“I have way too many questions about how your universe works, cause it feels like a fucking video game. Like Terraria or something,” Jason states plainly.

Tim shrugs. “It's home. I find it appalling that your laws of physics make it impossible to consistently fight with a fishing rod, but you don't find me complaining,” he teases. 

“There are so many things wrong with that sentence, but I've experienced your memories of fighting with a fishing rod and know it works,” Drake speaks up, looking mildly impressed.

“Did they tell you what I've been doing in your body?” Tim asks his counterpart curiously. 

He nods, hands fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket. “They did. Thank you for taking care of my family and friends. I'm sorry you had to do all that, though.” 

“No sweat,” he shrugs. “I have faith that you would've done the same thing for me with these guys,” he jerks his thumb towards Bench Trio, “if you had the chance to.”

Drake smiles a bit ruefully. “Every second in that cell I spent trying to think of a way to get your body back to your family, so they could have some type of closure. All I could think was ‘I'd want someone to do this for me’, it's what kept me going.”

“Oh shit, Timbo, you're in the Dead Robin's club now,” Jason speaks up. “I gotta get you our card.” 

“Isn't that just you?” Cassie asks, confused. 

“And Steph,” Cass replies. “Now little brother as well,” she gives Drake's knee a gentle pat. 

“And Damian!” Jason reminds. "All of us ‘cept the Dickhead. Well, and Tim but now he's officially a member.” 

“Why wasn't I a member?” Tim asks with a raised eyebrow. 

Jason gives him a deadpan look. “One of the first things you said to us was ‘I'm not Tim Drake and I'm not Red Robin’, remember?” 

“That is major paraphrasing, but whatever floats your boat.”

“Another question, why does your body have wings?” Jason asks, gesturing to Drake. 

“I'm an avian, part bird, part human. So's Tommy. If it wasn't obvious Tubbo is a ram hybrid and Ranboo is… he's part enderman and part something else, we just haven't figured out the ‘something else’ quite yet,” he explains with a shrug. 

“I couldn't take care of your wings,” Drake blurts out, drawing eyes to him. “I technically knew how to due to your memories, but I could barely move and then I fell down on the floor and couldn't really get back up. I'm scared they're damaged beyond repair.” 

Tim purses his lips. “I don't blame you. And it's not like I could fly anyways, when we were young our parents cut our flight feathers and I just never learned. Tommy eventually did, but when we joined the DSMP, we agreed to only use our wings to hover or descend slower, not fly. The only one who gets away with it is Phil but that's because he's Philza Minecraft.” 

“Still need ta preen,” Tommy speaks up groggily, making his way out of the cuddle pile to drape himself over Tim. “Your feathers are starting to turn brittle. We don't need preening as constantly as actual birds, but it's still been wayyyyy too long,” he explains. “I'll help manage them until you're strong enough to do it on your own most of the time.”

Drake nods, looking relieved. He'd probably been stressed due to being unable to properly care for someone else's body. He had the self preservation instincts of a wet paper bag, but he cared a lot about his loved ones and even strangers (unless they were right bastards). 

“We'll need to split up,” Tubbo speaks up, startling them all. 

Both he and Ranboo are awake now, and have untangled themselves from their cuddle pile. 

“For what?” Jason asks, leaning forward slightly. 

“Tim Drake won't be able to physically help in his condition, and I'd rather not have Tommy be near Dream ever again. You two will stay in the mansion, with at least one of you guys to help protect each other,” he gestures at the heroes. “I need to go talk to Puffy about the kids and our plans, and Ranboo and Tim will need to make contact with Phil about Lady Kristin.”

“We'll take Cass,” Tim speaks up. “Kon, you should stay with Drake and Toms, and if worse comes to worse you run. And you keep running until you're certain you're not being followed, Tommy can lead you. Tubbo, I want you to take Jason and Cassie. They can't stay here doing nothing and Jason's guns will make a fight easier and Cassie's powers will make escaping easier. Does everyone understand?” He glances around, searching everyone's faces to make sure he's understood. 

Everyone either nods or gives a sound of agreement.

“Great! Ranboo, can you give Kon and Jason a spare comm? I believe they should work since the chat recognized them joining the server with their own usernames instead of an unknown.” 

Ranboo gives a small “vwhoop!” and teleports off. A second later he's back in a tiny burst of purple particles, and handing the mentioned people a spare comm. 

“There's a place on the side to press your fingerprint. After you log in, you can see the chat history from since you joined the server,” Ranboo explains. 

“If you type /msg space and then a person's username, you'll be able to dm us basically. But it only works on one person at a time. For future reference, Tommy's username is ‘TommyInnit’, mine is ‘TimmyI’, Tubbo's is ‘Tubbo_”, and Ranboo's is just ‘Ranboo’. If worse comes to worse and you can't get to us, message Puffy, hers is ‘CaptainPuffy’. She'll watch over you guys until we get back. It'll also inform you if one of us dies, it'll state our user and then how we died. If that happens and all 3 of us die, stay safe, stay alive and wait for your friends to come find you.” 

“What happens if we die? Do we also have 3 lives or whatever?” Jason asks, his fingers tight around the comm in his hand. 

“I… don't know. You guys don't have hotbars n stuff, but your death here could be in Lady Kristin's jurisdiction, so it could be up to her. Or it couldn't be, I'm not sure.”

Jason nods. “So operate off the usual assumption that we have 1 life only.”

“Don't do anything stupid,” Drake stares at Jason and Cass as he speaks. “Don't be self-sacrificing. If you're going to die it's going to be in our universe, understood? We're not going back and telling our families that you passed away in another fucking universe. And Cassie, you're not allowed to make dying a full Core 4 thing, Cissie and Anita will kill us.” 

The pair nod at him, Cassie reaching over to kiss his forehead and then Kon's. 

“Wouldn't dream of it, Wonder Boy. Someone's gotta be the voice of reason since Cissie isn't here,” she reassures. 

“Yeah, not too keen on dyin’ again and testing if I'll come back, not gonna lie,” Jason adds with a smirk. 

Cass just gives him a look, a silent conversation passing between them, and Drake relaxes. Tim looks at his family, eyes narrowed. 

“Be weird, be safe, stay alive,” he reminds, giving them each a look. 

“Yeah yeah, we know,” Tommy snarks. “You better follow the fucking rules, don't  be a hip-o-crite.” 

“I made the rules, I follow them,” Tim rolls his eyes. “Who's been keeping us alive for all this time?” 

“I have,” Tubbo deadpans. 

“You cannot say that, Tubbo,” he deadpans in return. 

“As interesting as this is,” Jason cuts in. “We should probably go on our respective missions now,” he points out. 

“Right. Ranboo, Nether portal or?” He leaves the thought hanging, head tilted at his friend. 

“I can get us to the portal,” he decides after a few moments. “Tubbo, you guys should wait at least 10 minutes before heading out, try to stay out of sight.” 

The ram hybrid nods. “Sounds good, whisper once you're in the Nether and we'll wait 10 minutes.” 

Tim gestures for Cass to grab Ranboo's free hand as he grabs the other and she obeys without question. 

“You might feel disoriented, but you won't want to puke until we're in the Nether,” Ranboo warns.

She nods and then they're gone with a small “Vwhoop!”

-

Tracking down Philza is pretty easy. He’s always with Technoblade basically, so they just have to trek to the nearest portal and then through the snow. Thankfully Ranboo had brought potions to help battle the cold (and he’s 80% sure Cass’ suit is built to withstand harsh weather conditions), so the journey isn’t too hard. The hard part is that Techno is, usually, not too friendly towards visitors. It’s a bit different with Ranboo, and Tim knows he doesn’t set the guy off as much as say Tubbo or Tommy can, but with a random stranger? One that he was instantly going to connect to BlackBat with her fucking bat costume still on? 

Yeah, they might be cooked, who knows?

They’re barely within the borders of Techno’s territory when there’s footsteps crunching in the snow and the sound of flapping wings. Tim tries to ignore the ache in his bones as he watches Phil land directly in front of them, Techno walking up behind him. The elder is more relaxed, shaking his wings out and folding them against his back comfortably. Techno is the opposite, his axe hanging from his belt, eyes narrowed slightly behind the pig mask that sits on his face. 

If Cass is surprised by how they look, she doesn’t react. She shifts slightly, closer to Tim and Ranboo as if to protect them, but she doesn’t seem hostile. Yet. 

“Ranboo,” Techno greets, not exactly warm sounding, but definitely warmer than when he turns to him and gives him a nod. 

“Hey there Tim,” Philza greets with a small chirp, offering what he thinks is supposed to be a warm smile. 

“I’m glad you still recognize me in the wrong body,” Tim comments idly in return. 

At that both Phil and Techno pause, their eyes finding him. They seem to truly look over him and in an instant, the pinkette’s axe is in his hand. Before he can even think of pointing it towards him, though, Cass is between them, a Batarang in her hands ready to throw and intercept whatever attack was coming their way. 

“Techno, wait!” Ranboo starts, teleporting between Cass and him. “Wait, please hear us out!” He begs, hands in a pleading motion. 

“That’s not Tim, Ranboo, back up,” Techno growls, something angry flashing in his eyes. 

“Uh, actually, it is!” Tim pipes up helpfully. “Ask Phil! He should be able to feel my soul!” He insists. 

Phil’s eyebrows furrow and he closes his eyes. Tim can feel as something in him shivers, as if being seen when it shouldn’t. The blond’s eyes snap open, confused and apprehensive. 

“He’s not wrong, mate, that is definitely our Tim’s soul,” Phil states. 

Techno lets his axe fall back into its holder on his belt, looking over all three of them. 

“What do you want?” He asks, not quite harsh but not quite nice either. 

“We need to talk to Lady Kristin,” Tim explains, moving to stand beside Cass. She lets him, but she doesn’t put her Batarang away, just stares at Techno with open hostility. 

“What?” Phil asks, surprise written across his face. Techno is confused beside him, hostility forgotten as he gapes at Tim. 

“If it wasn’t obvious, I’m not in my body. We want to ask her if she can help us fix that.” 

“So, what, there’s another person inside your body?” Techno asks, clearly baffled. 

“Yes. It might sound crazy, but I’m in the body of another version of me from another universe. We swapped bodies when we… died, so we’re hoping Lady Kristin has any information. Literally anything.” 

“Does this have something to do with those new people joining earlier?” Philza asks, head tilted curiously, like a bird. 

“This is BlackBat,” he says in lieu of a response, gesturing to Cass. “She’s from the universe this body is. We all kinda got sucked here at the same time when we were confronting Dream-” 

“You saw Dream?” Techno cuts him off. 

“Long story short, he was in that universe as well and he’s most likely the reason I was there,” Tim waves it off. “We just need to talk to Lady Kristin, please Phil.” 

Phil sighs. “It’s not that simple, mate, I can’t just-” 

“Hm? What’s not so simple, beloved?” 

All of them turn to face the new voice, surprised. Standing there, in the flesh, is Lady Kristin, the Goddess of Death. She wears a wide brimmed hat with a black lacy veil covering her eyes, her lipstick a dark shade of black where her mouth peaks out. Her dress is a dark purple, the sleeves the kind where you can see the skin of her shoulders, and her belt is gold. Her makeup is primarily gold, with some purple accents. She’s tall, like, taller than tall, and she peers down at them all with a little smirk. 

“Kristin!” Phil exclaims excitedly as soon as he realizes it’s her. 

“Ah ah ah, we can talk later, my beloved,” she assures, reaching a hand down to gently pat his head. “I believe there’s some kids who I need to speak to?” Her head turns, and Tim can faintly see glowing golden eyes behind her veil as she faces them. 

“Hello, Lady Death,” Tim greets with a little bow, feeling out of his element. 

He’s met Foolish before, and of course other obscure Gods that just flit around the server. He believes in Prime! It’s really not that different, and yet it is, because it's Lady Kristin. Not only is she the Goddess of Death, she’s Philza Minecraft’s wife and one of the only adults that Tommy seems to love wholeheartedly that hasn’t betrayed him. 

She kneels down so she can see them better, her eyes passing over all three of them slowly, as if taking them in. 

“You’re Ranboo and Tim, I know that,” she nods at them, and then turns her eyes to Cass. “I don’t think you should be near my domain, dear, are you trying to get home?” 

Cass shakes her head. “Not yet,” she replies. 

“Hmmmm, then does this have to do with Tim’s soul being in the wrong body?” She asks next, turning to look at Tim. 

Tim nods slowly. “Yeah, it does,” he confirms. “BlackBat’s Tim is stuck in my body and I’m stuck in his, but we’d like to switch back. Since it happened when we died, we thought you might be able to help us,” he explains. 

The Goddess sighs, and stands, wiping off her dress. 

“I’m afraid, my beloved, Techno, I’ll have to come back later. This takes precedent, I’m sure you are aware of why,” she relays to her husband and his friend. 

“Wait, Kristin-” Phil starts, but with a simple snap of her fingers they’re suddenly somewhere else. 

They’re in a living room of sorts. There’s 2 couches, a loveseat, a recliner and a rocking chair. When Tim turns to survey the room, he notices that it’s only him and Lady Kristin, who’s sitting in the rocking chair. 

“Come here, dear,” she gestures for him to sit on the couch closest to her. 

She’s still tall, but not as tall as she was, and her hat is missing, showing off her glowing golden eyes and the way they crinkle as she smiles. He follows her request silently, mostly confused. 

“Where’s Ranboo and BlackBat?” He asks, trying not to fear her potential answers. 

When she laughs it sounds like tolling bells. “They’re safely back at Tubbo’s manor, don’t you worry dear,” she assures.

“Why?” He asks, surprised. 

What exactly is happening? 

“I’m aware of Techno’s feelings on Tubbo and Tommy, hun. Even his about you, Tim. That doesn’t mean I have the same ones, or even the same as Phil. I find it atrocious on how the adults have treated you guys, but it’s not in my jurisdiction to interfere with those who are alive,” she explains with a sad little smile. “However, that doesn’t mean I can’t love you guys to my full extent and work hard to make you guys comfortable anyway I can. When Toms passed, I made sure his afterlife was as special as he is, and kept him away from those I knew he would feel upset with. I keep watch over Shroud and Michael, nudging them towards the more safe decisions that children tend to look past. I was watching you, and even though I couldn’t do a thing, I was praying every day to any God who would listen to keep you alive.” 

“You… you were why I didn’t die in that prison early?” He feels warmth rush through him. “You protected Tommy even after he was dead?” 

“Of course,” she offers another smile, this one less sad. “I’m well aware of your relations to Toms, and even if Phil, Techno and even Wilbur have turned their backs on him, he’s still mine just as much as the rest of them. Same with Tubbo. And even though you’re not mine, you are his and you’re important to him. Just like with Ranboo, Shroud, Michael, etc.” 

“Thanks,” he manages to choke out, trying to hold back his sobs. 

Tim manages to calm down after a few moments, taking in a deep breath and then releasing it. 

“So, can you tell me what you know about the day I died?”

Lady Kristin purses her lips and her eyes seem to swirl into an endless abyss as she thinks. “I remember that. Your soul had slipped away before I could get you to your afterlife, and then I realized there was another soul inhabiting your body. It didn’t leak the fumes of death either, even though I knew you had died. It was similar to yours, but I knew it wasn’t you. I ended up conversing with a few other Gods, and we realized that Dream had made a deal with a God from another universe. That God gave him an escape plan, to teleport him to a random alternate universe as soon as he gave the word. That happened simultaneously to you passing, and your alternate version passing in the universe Dream was teleported to. Due to this, I’m assuming my prayers made some God or Gods turn their heads and your souls were swapped. This repaired your bodies, but didn’t heal them fully.” 

Tim purses his lips after she’s done explaining, taking a few moments to think through all the information he was given. So, obviously their assumptions weren’t too far off, but there were other factors as well to why they swapped. Apparently the Goddess of Death had prayed hard enough for him to stay alive that it kept him and an alternate version of him alive. He would forever be thankful to her for saving him and Tim Drake, because after living through his memories and living with his family and friends, he couldn’t help but feel for all of them. However it didn’t really explain how to switch them back. 

“So, how do we switch back? Is there a way for us to? I don’t want to live the rest of my life out as Tim Drake, and Drake doesn’t wanna live as me either. Our universes are so different, and we can adapt, but I just want to be with my family.” 

Lady Kristin sighs. “The way to switch back is the way you got switched in the first place,” she explains. “You need the same factors: both of you need to die at the same time and someone needs to be travelling into another universe from this one.”

Tim pales. “Wait, so we have to die and just trust that we’ll come back to life after? This is my final life and Drake should technically only have one! What happens if it doesn’t work? We’re just dead! Does Drake get my afterlife from here? Am I stuck with whatever the afterlife, if there is one, exists in his universe!?” He’s panicking, he can feel his breaths pick up and his chest tightening. 

Fuck. This wasn’t fair. What the fuck? 

“Tim, my dear, can you focus on my voice?” Lady Kristin asks gently, having somehow moved from her chair to kneeling in front of him.

He shakes his head, trying to focus as she asked but not being able to. She starts to exaggerate her breathing, and Tim slowly attempts to gasp along. Eventually his breathing evens out, and even though he can still feel the panic, it's not overwhelming. 

“Thanks, Lady Kristin,” he says quietly once he feels okay enough to talk.

“Please, call me Mumza,” she insists. 

He nods slowly. “Okay… I'll need to talk to the others about what you told me before we decide on… anything, really.”

She nods. “Of course, my dear. I'll get you back to the mansion, everyone else should be back by now.” 

“Thanks Mumza. For everything.”

“Just call for me when you make your decision, hun,” she gives him a quick kiss on his forehead and then the world shifts. 

When he opens his eyes, he's sitting on the couch in the living room of the Snowchester Mansion. He watches as everyone around him startles, aside from Cass who just gives a little wave. Mumza was right, everyone else is here.

“Tim!” Tommy exclaims, launching himself across the room to pull him into a hug. 

“Hello to you too, Toms,” he grunts, catching him as well as he can. 

“How's Mumza?” He asks curiously, staring at him imploringly. 

“She's really nice, actually,” he starts, adjusting them on the couch so he can address everybody. “She told me that we were right, the reason we switched souls was because Dream had a contingency plan to be teleported to another universe when he so pleased, and he just so happened to do so at the same time of us dying. What we weren't aware of, however, was that Mumza had apparently been praying for me to stay alive, which caught the attention of a few Gods.”

“So, we switched bodies to save our lives?” Drake asks, head tilted. “The Goddess of Death prayed for Tim to stay alive, and since Dream was already teleporting universes, a God or more decided to interfere and save his life, which saved my life?” 

“That's basically what she said, yes,” Tim nods. “She also explained how we would switch back, but it's…” he trails off, looking away. 

“It's what?” Jason prompts, an eyebrow raised. 

“The way to get back is to recreate each factor of what got us traded in the first place.”

The room seems to pause as everyone takes that in. 

“There's no way in hell either of ya are dying again!” Jason exclaims, standing abruptly.

“We don't even have the revive book, what if something goes wrong!?” Tubbo adds, shooting up from his own seat. 

More outbursts and disagreements ring out, but Tim can't focus on them. Instead he stares at Drake, at his body. Drake, in turn, is staring at him and his body. They look exactly the same, the base of their bodies. The main differences are their scars and the wings on his body's back. 

They're not the same person. They have similar backstories, both were abandoned by their parents and then were traumatized by the world. They have similar looks. They have similar reactions, similar minds. But they weren't the same. They couldn't live each other's lives. And they couldn't live in their own universes in each other's bodies, since their fundamental laws were so different. 

This was their choice and only theirs. The others didn't get to decide what they did with their bodies. 

“Everyone quiet!” Drake exclaims, and the room falls silent. All eyes are drawn to him, and he levels everyone with an unimpressed glare. 

“Tim-” Cassie starts, hands balled into fists, but he shakes his head. 

“Nuh uh,” he replies instantly. “Sorry, girl wonder, but these are our bodies and we are the ones who get to decide what we do.” 

“So, what, you ask one of us to kill you each at the same time someone teleports universes??? How would we even do that?” Jason snarks, arms crossed tightly in front of his stomach. His face is twitching, eyes a murky green. 

Pit rage. At the thought of them dying. Oh how fun. 

“It's not like we've settled on switching back as our decision, Jason,” Tim replies. “But it's our bodies. We get to make the decision on what we do with them.”

“You expect us to be okay with you fucking dying again!?” Tommy exclaims, having made his way out of Tim's lap when the shouting started so he could stand over him.

“It's my body!” Tim exclaims back, shooting to stand and face his brother.

“And mine!” Drake adds from his seat on the couch, unable to stand with how weak he is but still supportive. 

“You're asking us to be okay with losing you again,” Cassie states, her voice hard. Her nails are digging into her palms, and if she wasn't a demigod, she'd be bleeding. 

“None of you were even there when we died,” Drake snaps, his voice icy. 

‘Calm down,’ Cass requests, but no one seems to notice. 

“You were the one who insisted it was fine! You said you could recover on your own, you said you needed space and that we were smothering you!” Jason yells, hands clenched at his side as he stares down Drake. 

“I WAS LYING, JASON!” Drake screams and it’s like a dam has broken. His face is contorted with so much hurt that Tim can physically feel it in his soul. “I've NEVER had anyone who has loved me before! I was ALWAYS supposed to be the one no one worried about! ‘Be seen but not heard’, if even that! Half of you tried to kill me MULTIPLE TIMES! I couldn't-! I can't-!” his breathing starts to pick up as he slaps a hand over his mouth. Choked sobs barely escape his mouth as he closes his eyes and tries to physically force back his crying. 

Tim rushes forward to catch his shoulders as he keels over suddenly, gagging loudly as he continues to hyperventilate and cry. His wings twitch, and he knows for a fact that if they could, they’d be flared wide. 

“Tim, Tim, Tim,” Tim chants, pushing him so he leans his back against the couch. He’s still gagging but he’s focused on him, their eyes locked. A flood of emotions crash through him, but he ignores them for now. “Tim, buddy, can you follow my breathing?” He starts to exaggerate his, hoping the other will follow along. 

He shakes his head vigorously, and then gags again, leaning his head forward so spit can fall into his lap. Tim hushes him gently, taking his hand to place gently against his chest. 

“You can do this, Tim, just follow me.” He keeps whispering encouraging words and reassurances until he’s calmed down, breathing deep and slow. Their eyes are still locked and a quiet understanding passes between them. 

They’re switching their bodies back.

“Timmy-” Ranboo starts gently, but he turns his head and gives him a look to be quiet (a bit harsh, but he can’t help it). 

“You’re all going to listen to us, okay?” He states, voice quiet but firm. 

Everyone gives varying levels of agreement as he moves to sit down beside Drake, shooing everyone away from their couch. 

“I am reiterating, again, that these,” he gestures between the two of them, “are our bodies. We get to decide what happens with them. That’s non negotiable and you know that,” he gives each of them a look, aside from Cass who hadn’t been adamant about disagreeing with them. “Also, if you haven’t realized, we can’t live each other’s lives nor can we just live in each other’s bodies in our respective universes. The fundamental laws of our worlds are too different. I’d probably die here in this world if I tried to live here long term in Drake’s body, and how the hell are you going to explain Drake just randomly sprouting wings? Plus, I just really want my body back. I want my wings, and my hotbar. I want to be able to shoot a bow without getting tired in less than 10 minutes and use a fishing rod to pull my enemies close. I want to be able to survive in my own body in my fucking universe.” 

“What if something goes wrong?” Kon asks, lips pursed. “You're asking us to either sit back and let you die, or kill you ourselves. How are we supposed to do that?” 

“I don't know, but you can't take away our free will. And asking us to live in a body that isn't ours when there’s a possible solution we agree to try is unfair and fucking cruel.” 

“I want my body back,” Drake speaks up, giving each of his friends and family a look. “I don't want wings, I don't want this stupid hotbar, and I don't want these instincts that are sitting in the back of my mind. They're not mine, I'm not an avian. I want to fly by using my grapple and being carried around by a meta, not because of these new fucking limbs on my back. I don't even know how to take care of them! I want to be able to know what certain aches and pains in my body actually mean. I want to go back to our universe in my body.” 

A silence befalls the room as everyone takes in his words. 

‘Little brothers are right,’ Cass starts, catching everyone's attention. ‘Their bodies, their decision. Death doesn't have to be violent. Doesn't have to be one of us.’

“You're fucking insane,” Tommy spits as he stomps out of the room, hands clenched and wings tucked tightly against his back. 

Tim stands, but Ranboo shakes his head. 

“We'll talk to him,” he assures before he and Tubbo disappear with a poof of purple particles.

Tim groans, hiding his hands in his face. It's not like he's excited to fucking die again, especially since he's technically lost all 3 of his canon lives, but he needs his body back.

“Just give him some time,” Drake attempts to reassure, giving him a gentle pat on his shoulder. 

“I don't blame him for being upset, I'm his brother and we both have fully died before. I get it. But I can't even fucking exist here long term without my own body and I'm not leaving him again.” 

“You won't,” Cass replies firmly. ‘We will get you home. Both of you.’

He sighs again, slumping back against the couch. “Thanks Cass.” 

-

It's (technically) a 3 part plan. 

Part 1: Kill Dream. 

Jason refuses to leave before the bitchboy dies. Also, it's not like they have the means to get them home unless they find XD and see what the deity knows. They've deduced he's the most likely reason on how they returned after talking to Mumza a bit more. And since Jason was just itching to kill Dream, and they wouldn't get home unless those from their universe found a way, it was the first step of the plan.

Tubbo had made the main plan for part 1. Sam was going to let them into the prison, Tubbo had guilt tripped him into agreeing and looking the other way. Any other means of escape he had been patched and dealt with while the guy had disappeared. Sending Jason with him when he was going to hash out plans with Puffy was a good idea, it seems, cause they’ve settled on the gunslinger getting to kill him. Tim didn’t even want to be near him, so he wasn’t going, and Ranboo decidedly didn’t want to do it. Tommy wasn’t allowed near him either, so it would be Tubbo, Jason and Cass who went. If it was anyone else, even Cassie and Kon with their superpowers, he would’ve been against the idea, but Jason had guns and Cass was Cass, so it was a solid plan. 

Everything else around his death was kept for the 3 of them, and while Cass didn’t agree with killing, she wasn’t actively trying to stop them. She respected Jason and his morals, and she respected that this world was different from theirs, death was different, and so was killing.

Part 2: Switch their bodies back. 

Which was directly tied to Part 3: Get the others home. 

Both Tim's had settled on a quick potion/poison that would kill them in seconds. It would be the easiest way and cleanest way to die, and it wouldn't require them to have someone else kill them. They were trying as hard as they could to not traumatize their friends and family again. Making the potion fell to them. Tim knew what they needed, Ranboo fetched it for them, and Drake put it together since those not from the universe couldn't properly use crafting tables, brewing stands, etc. 

They'd learned that the hard way, and Drake's body had a new burn scar on his arm. Oops?

So, they had the dying part down. The hard part was the when and the whole dimension traveling. They didn't have to be in different universes for it to work, thankfully, as Mumza said the only reason it happened with himself from another universe was A. Cause she was praying for Tim to stay alive and B. They happened to die at the same time. If it had been someone else from their universe who died at the same time, she's sure the same thing would've happened if Drake hadn't died. 

Don't ask how, because when Tim did, she just looked sad so he let it go. 

The hard part was waiting. They could kill Dream whenever they wanted, but they'd need the revive book so someone couldn't bring him back and they weren't sure when the others would find a way to their universe or if they'd ever see XD again. So it was a waiting game. 

Sam takes the choice away from them and gives them the day they can enter the prison. No one else is aware of them, they'd taken extra precautions and avoided everyone who wasn't Puffy. So no one knew he was going to die, not even Dream, so it's not like anyone could save him. Yeah, the chat would announce his death, but Drake had worked with him, Tubbo, Tommy, Ranboo and Puffy to make contingency plans for if he was brought back. 

It wasn't a perfect plan, but it was what they had and they'd run with it. 

-

Killing Dream goes off without a hitch. Or, if there is a hitch, Tim isn't there to see it. He never wanted to see Drean again, and Tubbo had banned him, Tommy and Ranboo from ever seeing him again. The guy also had his fair share of trauma from the guy, but he was the only one who didn't have a reaction to him that could incapacitate them. Plus, he was overprotective to a fault. 

Even if there are any hitches, the chat still announces his death with little fanfar. 

Dream was shot to death by RedHood

JackManifoldTV: holy shit is this real????

Ph1LzA: who is redhood?

TommyInnit: none of ur business

Nihachu: tommy was this u?

Sapnap: wtf is hapening

TimmyI: well

TimmyI: glad that guys gone ngl

JackManifoldTV: tim??? 

JackManifoldTV: man where have y been

TimmyI: y dont u ask dream

TimmyI: oh wait

TimmyI: u vant

Tubbo_: LMAO

Ranboo: pf5

More people chime in, most of them confused, but Tim ignores them. He feels a weight lift off his shoulders once it fully settles in that Dream is dead. He's gone. And if, Prime forbid, someone brings him back? They have Tim Drake ApprovedTM contingency plans to get them through it. 

They're safe. 

Tubbo is smiling so damn wide once the three of them make it back to the mansion. Jason looks smug and Cass just gives each of them a hug, including Ranboo and Tommy. 

Tim lets Tubbo pull his husbands aside and finds himself on the couches in the main living room with the others. 

“All that's left now is waiting for B to get us back,” Drake speaks up. 

“And once he does, we can take these,” he shakes his little instant death potion, “and finally get our bodies back.”

“Or just die,” Kon grumbles. 

“Think about it this way,” Drake starts, waggling his eyebrows. “Once I'm back in my body, we can kiss and cuddle and go bother the others into a dog pile movie night. Mostly, though, we can kiss.” 

“Thanks for being courteous enough to not kiss your boyfriend with my body,” Tim states, half serious and half joking. 

“Thanks for not kissing my boyfriend while in my body,” he replies easily, giving him a wink. 

Tim rolls his eyes fondly, but before he can say anything else, he feels a new presence approaching. It's probably due to the body's years of Bat training that he even manages to throw himself in front of his body (Drake) before XD comes crashing through the living room windows. 

“You should not be here,” the Deity states plainly, his eyes(?) falling on each person from another universe. And Tim, because he's in Drake's body. 

“Not like we had a choice,” Cassie snarks, having put herself between Tim and the XD, Kon at her side. Cass and Jason are tense, but they stay behind the two metas, letting them be their shields. 

“It is time for you to go home,” he adds and then suddenly the world is wrong. 

The same feeling from when they got to this universe rushes through him. The Universe just feels wrong, like all the laws of the world stopped applying to him. 

He locks eyes with Drake and both of them fumble with their instant death potions. He needs to get it in his system before he's fully teleported, or he could be stuck as him for so much longer than he wants. No hate, but he wants his body back. 

His hands shake and yet he's also perfectly still. He does his best to grab the neck of the bottle and then he throws it back quickly, like a shot. He notices Drake has his mouth around an empty bottle out of the corner of his eye and then pain erupts throughout him and it hurts it hurts it hurts-

-

…

“-mmy!” 

“-AKE UP RIGHT NOW!”

“-itchboy! Bastard! Asshole!”

“Shut up!” He exclaims, throwing a hand out weakly. 

Why is everyone so loud????

He can feel his wings twitch weakly behind him and he reaches a hand out to gently run a hand through his feathers. He feels weak, more so than usual, but he ignores it as a yawn breaks past his lips. He's tired, and kind of hungry. 

He looks around, at the stunned faces of his brother and his friends, and-

Wait. 

Hold on. 

Holy shit. 

He flares his wings out, grunting as they ache in protest, but he doesn't give a flying fuck. 

“Holy shit!” He jumps up, and nearly faceplants, but Ranboo grabs his arms to steady him. “Holy shit! Guys I'm back!” He laughs, tears pricking his eyes. 

“Tim!” Tommy exclaims, tackling him back onto the couch and into a hug. 

He ignores the pain that shoots through him, too elated. He keeps laughing, wrapping Tommy in his arms and his wings, ignoring their protests. He can feel his hotbar buzz in the background and knows he could summon something with a simple thought. He can chirp and trill and squawk to his heart's content again. His instincts buzz in the back of his brain and his voice sounds so right. 

He trills happily, pulling Tommy closer. 

“I'm home!” 

-

(In another universe, the first thing Tim Drake does when he wakes up is kiss Conner Kent so hard that he nearly hurts himself. Then he hugs his brothers, his sisters, and his dad and grandpa. And then he spends the night wrapped up in the arms of his first family, his Young Justice.)