It Takes A Colony

by FormerChampGreen

Summary:

It's not entirely unexpected when nobody responds to Red Robin's emergency beacon. He knew he was expendable. He stopped being a real part of the family a long time ago. But he'd still hoped. That's why when Batman showed up and promised him that He'd be okay, he believed him. But it doesn't take long to realize that this Batman isn't his. Now, after traveling back with this new Batman, Tim has to learn how to live in a universe that cares.

TLDR: Tim gets rescued by Bruce from the YJ universe and he isn't used to people caring about his existence.

This is a TimKon fic but I also have no self control so a lot of background relationships.

Notes:

• Inspired by Liminal Space by Calamityjim

This is my first fanfic on Ao3 and my first one in like 6 years so this might be a learning curve. Feel free to point things out that I messed up and all comments are appreciated.

There are a bit of changes to this young justice but it mostly follows the canon of the timeline. Except Damian is a bit older than he is because I don't get why he was that young. Edit: Conner is in fact t-shirt Conner but he also has a brown leather jacket.

I'm aiming for this to be a long fic that I can use to decompress from my serious writing (This isn't a crackfic I'm just not going to be heavily editing it). That being said, I am not going to have a schedule with this, though I will be aiming to update at least twice a month. I will also not be doing a bunch of research so if I really mess up some fact of a comic feel free to tell me in the comments and I will adjust.

Chapter 1: No Response

Red Robin crawled his way across the carpet of the flat he’d busted into, leaving long streaks of blood in his wake. He’d track down the owners and pay to have the carpet replaced later. He raised a hand to the large cut in his abdomen. If it wasn’t for his suit he’d probably be holding his guts right now. Or dead. That sounded more likely.

He groaned as he sat himself up against a wall. His insides did not appreciate the added gravity and poked out through the slash in his suit. He leaned his head back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling. It had been almost a minute since he’d pressed his emergency beacon. Someone should have responded by now. On a more peaceful day maybe someone would have. Duke was new enough that he still jumped at every distress signal someone sent out. Cass might have shown up, scaring the shit out of him before giving the quickest first aid he’d ever seen. Or maybe Steph would be in a good mood and pity him. But today wasn’t a peaceful day. Today was a mass breakout. All bats on deck. Nobody to spare. At least not for a broken robin. The crackle of his communicator snapped Red Robin out of his spiral.

“The initial wave of escapees should be contained in the next thirty minutes. Hang on till then. I’ll send over whoever finishes up their fight first.” Oracle’s voice buzzed in his ear. She sounded so distant. There was a time when she’d have been yelling in the ear of every bat, ordering them to get to his location ASAP. There was a time when they’d listen. Maybe that time was still around. Just not for him.

He screwed up. The gaping hole in his stomach was proof enough of that. It was pathetic. He hadn’t even gotten it in a good fight. A combination of sleep deprivation, malnutrition, and underestimating the random mugger he’d nabbed. One lucky slash from a decent knife and he was out of commission. What a pathetic way to go. At least Jason had gone to the Joker. Red Robin didn’t even get Harley.

“Fuck,” he said, hissing as tried to apply pressure to the wound. He knew it wouldn’t do much. He’d lost too much blood already. Even if he was too weak to properly hold pressure, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let himself die without trying. Except, he was so tired. His eyes hurt and his head was screaming at him. Every little shift sent a tremor of pain across his body.

“Hold on baby bird. I’ll wrap up here then swing by to get you, alright?” Nightwing’s voice peaked in the slightly broken communicator.

Red Robin knew he should respond. Tell them he’d be fine so that they could focus on the fight. But he was just so tired. Every breath rattled his lungs and raked against his throat as he choked the air down.

Hood piped up, his sadistic smile audible even through the smashed equipment. “You finally gonna bite the dust pretender? Got tired of hanging where you aren’t wanted?”

“It’s about time he learned his place,” Robin growled. His com picked up a loud smash. Even in the heat of battle, Damian found the time to insult him.
“Focus,” Batman snapped.

“TT”

Red Robin huffed out a laugh and something wet his lips. That wasn’t a good sign. A moment later he registered the taste. A nauseating metallic burn all across his tongue. He coughed up another rush of blood. Definitely not good. He raised a hand to his com but it didn’t respond. They’d moved to a different channel. Oracle could hear him. She always kept track of her operatives. Even disposable ones. It’s one of the reasons she was so good. Never letting a resource go untouched.

He let his hand fall from his stomach and down to the ground. No use in faking it now. They weren’t coming. It shouldn’t hurt. They were busy with dangerous villains. They couldn’t run off just because he got reckless. This was his fault. He made the bed, now it’s time to lie in it.

The exhaustion settled on him like a weighted blanket. Then it seeped into his bones. And eventually, he couldn’t even keep his eyes open. He was so cold. Cold and tired and alone.

He thought about his family. Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason, Damian, Cass, and Steph. He knew he wasn’t their family. But he liked to close his eyes and imagine if he were. It helped him through the bad days. The days when Jason got drunk and bitter. The days when Dick ditched him for Damian. The days when Steph wouldn’t stop insulting him for leaving her. He imagined a better family. Where Jason didn’t use him as a punching bag but instead gave him a beer and they talked. Or Dick invited him to go with Damian for bonding. Or Steph just accepted that they weren’t that great together and he didn’t mean to hurt her.

When that didn’t work, when the days got so bad he just couldn’t imagine them loving him, he thought of his other family. Cassie, who had taken the burden of leadership with him, taught him that he could rely on someone else when the responsibility just became too much. The dead ones. Bart, who had chipped away at his cold exterior until he found the real boy under the Bat training. And Kon. His clone boy. The one who became the light of his life without even trying.

Thinking of them hurt. It wasn’t the same as the bats. He was always a stand-in for the bats. His time as part of the family was limited. He knew that going in. It still hurt when it was ripped away, but it was bearable. But he was never a stand-in for his second family. They had chosen him.

Tim was tired. God, he was tired. But that was okay. He’d be seeing his friends soon. He should have been more worried about that. How calm that made him. But he wasn’t. Tim was just warm. Warm and tired.

A gruff voice woke him up. Except he shouldn’t have been able to wake up. Because Tim had died. Tim Drake had bled out in a random building in Gotham.

“Red Robin. Red Robin are you with me.”
Tim recognized that voice. That was his Dad’s voice. Not that he’d ever tell him that. He’d probably get backhanded if he ever told Bruce that he called him dad in his head.

“Red Robin I need you conscious,” Dad said. And, well, Tim has always been eager to please. He forced his eyes open and was met with Batman in all his glory. He’d forgotten the reverent feeling he used to get when he saw the bat. He didn’t have time to gawk when he was Robin. He needed to be useful. But he could gawk now. Not even his dad would get mad at him for being distracted while dying. “Good. You’re awake. I’m taking you with me.”

Tim should’ve responded. It’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you. But he couldn’t muster up the words. His headache had returned and he really wanted to go back to sleep. But Dad told him he needed him awake. And Tim knew better than to disobey. He’d learned quickly after becoming Robin.

A good Robin kept his mouth shut. A good Robin followed orders. Only children could talk back. Children and sons. Tim was good. Tim listened. Tim was useful. It’s why Batman kept him around even after Damian become Robin. Tim was good.

“I’m getting you out of here,” Dad said as he reach around and lifted Tim up.

He was so gentle. When had Dad ever been this gentle? It was odd. Tim turned his head and stared at the man holding him. He couldn’t stop the frown from forming on his face. Dad would be mad at how easily he was showing his emotions. Projecting his thoughts to the enemy. Because this was most definitely an enemy. This Batman was not his father. This Batman was younger. And judging by the way he held Tim like he was made of glass, weaker.

“Lemme go,” Tim slurred. He tried to push off of the man’s chest but he barely budged. He’d lost too much blood. He was weak. He was weak and now he was being captured.

“Stop struggling,” the man said, a rougher grumble in his voice. It was still softer than his Dad’s.

“Get off of me.” Tim tried to twist in his grip but stopped when his vision whited out in pain.

“You’ll be safe. I promise,” the man said in the same gentle tone as before. He carried Tim to one of the bedrooms, setting him on the bed. The Not-Batman reached down to his utility belt and pulled out what looked to be a tracker, then placed it on Tim’s chest.

“Just let me go.” Tim could hear the quiver in his voice. He sounded so pathetic. His vision blurred with unshed tears. He didn’t want to leave his family. “Please.”

There was a burst of light, and the world fell away. The flat disappeared, in its place, a familiar cave.

Chapter 2: At least Alfred is still Alfred

Summary:

Tim wakes up in a new universe and he is not happy about it one bit. But at least Alfred is still Alfred even in another universe.

The next time Tim woke up he was absolutely sure he was dreaming. It had been over a year since he’d last woken up in the manor. He was either sick enough to be kept in the Batcave or well enough to go to one of his safe houses, never the manor. He’d forgotten something. That was the only explanation.

There was a knock at the door and then Alfred poked his head in. “Ah, good, you’re awake. I came to check on you and change your bandages.” Alfred came around the bed and helped Tim sit up before getting to work on his wound.

Tim wasn’t surprised when Alfred told him he’d popped a few of his stitches in his sleep. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he was used to fitful sleep at this point. When Alfred redid the stitches he glanced at Tim, clearly expecting at least a hiss in protest. But Tim was a professional. He’d been trained to take much more painful things than a few measly stitches.

As Alfred worked, Tim stared at the man. He tried not to let his mind race, but he wasn’t doing a very good job of it. Alfred was dead. Yet the man was working on his injuries like he had when he first became Robin, like he was expecting for every little touch to send him crying out in pain.

On closer inspection, he could see the differences. This Alfred was younger. This Alfred still had a few darker hairs, a few less wrinkles, and a few less scars from getting mixed up in the mission.

Tim looked around the room. The Manor. He hadn’t been there in so long. Something ugly twisted in his gut when he looked to the door. He imagined Damian bursting it down and berating him for getting injured by such a weak opponent. He’d probably follow it up by saying he expected it from Drake.

He looked down at Alfred and thought. He tried to remember the events of the night before. Right, the portal. He was taken somewhere by a Batman. Great, because that has always had great results.

Once he was finished wrapping his wound, Alfred got up to leave. But before he could get out the door, Tim blurted out, “Why are you helping me?”

That stopped him in his tracks. He turned around and smiled at the boy. It gave Tim goosebumps. He knew that the man in front of him wasn’t the same man who had welcomed him to the manor so many years ago. He wasn’t the man who had stitched him up after a particularly hard day of training or brought him snacks and forced him to bed when he got too engrossed in a case. That man was dead. But his heart just couldn’t keep up with his mind. And his heart fucking hurt to see that smile pointed at him again. So he looked away and glared down at his blanket.

“I can take care of myself,” Tim said.

“I’m sure you can Master Timothy. But, as I have told Master Bruce and Master Dick for years, can does not mean should. Now if you will excuse me, I will go prepare some tea and alert Master Bruce that you’ve awoken.” Tim shoves down the absolute elation he feels at not hearing Damian or Jason.

“Do you have any coffee?” Tim said, more on reflex than actual desire.

Alfred smiled at him again then shook his head as if remembering a fond memory. “You may have a cup after your injuries have sufficiently healed. Until then, you will have to make do with tea. Do you have any preferences? If I don’t have it on hand now I will be sure to have it tomorrow.”

“Earl Grey?” Just because Tim couldn’t have coffee doesn’t mean he couldn’t have his caffeine fix. No use going into withdrawal on top of all his other problems. Alfred nodded and then escorted himself out, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts again. Kon used to tell him that in his head was the most dangerous place for Tim to be. Tim agreed wholeheartedly. But he’d never had a very good self-preservation instinct.

So Tim examined the room. A look out the window told him that it was, in fact, his room. It was missing all of the trinkets and wall decorations he had put up in his room when he first was taken in at the manor, before Jason came back, but it wasn’t the same cold room as after.

After Jason returned, it didn’t take long for Tim’s place at the manor to come into question. When Jason accused Bruce of using Tim as a replacement, Bruce bought Tim an apartment and had him moved out in a week. He didn’t even let Tim pack his own things. He just threw everything into black trash bags and shipped them to the new apartment. Tim smiled and nodded along while Alfred explained why Bruce was doing this, he had gone out of his way to make it known that he had no part in this decision, but it wasn’t necessary. The moment Jason appeared in Gotham, Tim knew he was on his way out. Alfred was always nice like that, explaining Bruce’s edges and sealing any cracks that would appear in the family. That’s probably why it hurt so much when he died. Nobody sealed the cracks.

Tim look away from the window and swept the rest of the room. It was a perfectly sterile guest room. One you’d expect from any billionaire’s mansion. A piece of art hung on the wall across from him but that was the only picture in the room. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be found, Alfred was vigilant no matter the universe.

Thinking of Alfred made his words finally register. Alfred was letting these universes Bruce know that Tim was awake. And if this universes Bruce was anything like his own Bruce, then Tim wouldn’t be alone for long. He suddenly felt naked. Naked and stupid. He was in enemy territory, with no suit, no weapons, and very little information, and he’d let someone change his wounds. The perfect time to drug him. If his Bruce were here he’d be getting an earful for the history books.

All that said, Tim decided to test a theory. Relying on the fact that this universes Alfred was so much like his own, he reached down and ran a finger along the wood of the bed frame. He couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face when he felt the familiar dip in the wood. Tim pushed against the dip and then twisted it, praying that the pattern was the same as in his universe. He let out a relieved sigh when a small drawer in the bedframe popped open, revealing two daggers stuffed inside.

Soft murmurs and purposeful steps sounded from down the hall. Tim wasn’t stupid, he knew that they were making their presence known on purpose, probably to get him to drop his guard. But he also wasn’t one to take clear opportunities for granted, so he slid one of the daggers behind his back and the other under the thigh away from the chair, and then closed the drawer.

There was a knock on the door. Tim took a deep breath. This was fine. Nothing about this was too out of the ordinary. He had dealt with evil Batmen before. Sure, they were all generally very bad times. And he had never done it alone. But everything gotta have a first so, might as well get it over with. “Come in,” he called, ignoring the scratch in his voice.

Alfred opened the door and let Bruce in before closing it again, leaving the two alone. Tim was a bit relieved by that. He had always hated being rude in front of Alfred. One disciplined look from the man would make him shut up for a week. And Tim had a feeling he was going to be rude during this conversation. Plus, he didn’t want to stab Alfred, his universes, or any others.

Bruce grabbed a chair from the desk and carried it over to Tim’s bedside. He sat down in the chair and then stared at Tim. “It’s good to see you awake. You took quite a beating before I found you.” His tone is perfectly pleasant, warm, and welcoming. Tim had heard the voice before. It had even been directed at him a few times during his early days as Robin. It was the tone Bruce used with his children.

Now was not the time for a trip down memory lane. Tim swallowed down the lump in his throat and ignored the concerned dip in Not-Bruce’s smile. This wasn’t his Bruce. He needed to remember that.

“Why did you kidnap me?” Blunt always worked best on his Bruce, hopefully, it would have the same effect here.

Bruce tensed for a moment then sighed. So, blunt was clearly going to be Tim’s friend. “You were injured and needed immediate medical assistance.”

“I was fine.”

Bruce sighed again and lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You were eviscerated and on the verge of passing out due to blood loss. Not to mention the very clear signs of malnutrition.”

“I had some clotting powder in my belt,” Tim said, ignoring the malnutrition argument. It was true, he kept a lot of first aid in his utility belt now. He had learned to not rely on swift intervention when activating his beacon.

“Powder which you didn’t use.”

This was also true. Tim had made no move to even try to retrieve the clotting agent. He had thought about it, but it just didn’t seem worth the effort. Tim was a realistic person, he knew his wound was big, and he knew that the powder probably wouldn’t be enough. “I was in pain, my head was foggy.”

“Which is why I decided to step in. I apologize for having to kidnap you but you needed urgent medical care and your universe's cave was too far.” Bruce said. “Not that I think you’d be safe there either,” he added under his breath.
“So, what? You keep me here until my stomach heals then send me back home?” Tim tried to push down the hope. He needed to be cautious. Even if the man agreed, there was no guarantee that he would actually go through with it. But the idea of getting back to familiarity was so nice. But deeper than that, past the hope, was the reality of the situation. He had been taken to a different universe by a different Batman after getting major injuries during a routine mugging. Tim’s Bruce was going to tear a new one into him the moment he stepped back into his own universe.

Bruce stared at him for a moment. Tim didn't like that stare one bit. It was Batman’s case stare, and sure as hell wasn’t a case. “No,’ Bruce finally said.

All of Tim’s thoughts came to a halt. It wasn’t exactly a surprising answer, it was just one he didn’t want to think about too deeply. Grabbing the knives had just been a reflex, a trained precaution. Now? Now, he was going to need a lot more than a few knives.

“What do you mean, no?” Tim held Bruce’s gaze and kept his voice perfectly level. “You said you brought me here to heal, was that a lie?”

Tim hated stare downs with Bruce. They usually ended with a swift backhand and a week of patrol with Red Hood. “No, I promise, that is why I brought you here.”

“Then why can’t I leave?”

Tim took deep measured breaths. No use freaking out now, not when he was at such a disadvantage. Any escape attempts would need to wait until Bruce was out of the house. The best time would probably be while he was out on patrol.

“Tim, I don’t think you would be safe if you returned. I’ve seen the way your family treats you and I can’t in good conscience send you back to that.” Bruce said it slowly like he was talking to a child.

“They’re not my family,” Tim ground out. “And what exactly would you know about my safety? You stumble in right when I’m injured and suddenly you know everything about my life?”

Okay so maybe the freaking out was happening a bit early. But can you really blame him? Tim was being kidnapped for his own safety? Bullshit. No way in hell was this for his own safety. He had briefly imaged, just for a picosecond, that maybe this Bruce really did want to help him. But that hope was dashed just as quickly.

Tim tried his best to calm himself. He was dealing with a Batman. Showing weakness to Batman during an interrogation means you’re losing ground fast.

“I was in your universe for three months. In that time, you only went to the Batcave six times, and after none of those did you enter the Manor. Along with that, there were four separate times that your emergency beacon went unanswered for more than thirty minutes. I gave them plenty of chances to prove that they were capable of taking care of you, and they failed them consistently.” Once he was finished, his mouth set in a firm line.

Tim tried not to shrink under his firm stare, but he knew he wasn’t doing a great job of it. He felt his shoulders hunch in and his gaze flicked between Bruce, the window, and the door. And then he felt the cool metal of the knife against his thigh.

He slid his hand under the blanket and gripped the handle. He saw Bruce track the movement, but he didn’t care. Just having that weight in his hand made Tim feel better. He would prefer his staff, but having a weapon at all was a blessing enough to keep him strong.

Bruce sighed and leaned back against his chair. To most people, it would look like he was relaxing, lowering his guard. But Tim had been around his own Batman long enough to see to tension in his legs, the way his hands were resting on the edge of the chair, ready to pull it in front of him at a moment's notice.

“Tim. I promise I’m not going to force you to stay here forever,” he said. “Once you’re cleared by a professional, and I think that you will keep yourself self, I will help you go back to your universe.”

“So you know how to get back?” It’s something Tim had thought about a lot. His memory of coming to this universe was pretty hazy so there wasn’t much for him to go on there. But Bruce said he spent three months in Tim’s universe. That either meant he was stuck there, or he had an objective.

“I will help you get back to your universe.”

They started up their stare down again.

Tim officially did not like this Bruce. This Bruce was confusing and didn’t fit with the way he knew his Bruce to act. His Bruce would never do this. His Bruce would send off whatever victim he found to a group of doctors and then never check up on them again. Or his Bruce would see Tim’s training and throw him into the field the moment his stomach was healed. That was still a possibility. A possibility that fit perfectly with his understanding of Bruce. Tim wasn’t really being held here because this Bruce thought he wouldn't be safe in his own universe. He was being held here because this Bruce thought his talents were appealing. Or he thought he was the most susceptible to whatever mental game he was playing.

Bruce opened his mouth to say something, but before he could get it out, the door swung open. Dick stood there, staring at Bruce with wide eyes.

Chapter 3: Dick is Not a Dartboard

Summary:

Dick comes back to the manor and meets Tim. Then Bruce and Dick have a talk about their new guest (who was definitely not kidnapped)

Notes:

Thank you guys so much for all the comments and kudos so far it has really encouraged me to write faster. I hope to keep you all to the end of this journey! All comments are appreciated. Feel free to point out if I messed anything up on accident and I'll try to go back and fix it.

When Dick got the call that Bruce was alive he didn’t know what he felt. For the most part, he was overjoyed that his presumed dead dad was apparently just on an extended mission and couldn’t get coms. But there was still a small part of him that wanted to tear the man's head off for having Alfred be the one to tell him. For not running straight to his com the first chance he got and telling Dick that he was alive.

Dick tried very hard to bury that as he drove over from Bludhaven. He wasn’t doing a very good job. By the time he got to the manor, he was ready to ream the man a new one. He pushed down the bit of guilt as he stormed past Alfred and made his way up to the bedrooms. And then pushed down another flag of guilt when Alfred called out to him, telling him where to find Bruce.

“Welcome back Bruce I sure hope you’re rested and have an excuse for why the hell you went AWOL for three-.” Dick started his tirade before he even entered the room but was abruptly cut off as he narrowly dodged the path of a knife. In an instant he dropped down, eyes trained on the man – no, boy – sitting up in the bed.

Before Dick could engage, Bruce stepped in between the two. “Hello, Dick,” Bruce said, eyes flicking between Dick’s face and his shoulder. Only then did Dick register the searing pain of the cut.

“Who the hell is that and why the hell is he throwing knives in the manor,” Dick spat, standing to full height and leaning to look past Bruce.

“This is Tim,” Bruce said, only continuing when Dick leveled him with a very unimpressed stare. “He is someone I met during my last mission. I found him hurt and brought him here. He will be staying at the manor until he is healed.” Bruce turned and gave the boy, Tim, a stare meant to pin him to his bed. The lack of response, not even a flinch, told Dick all he needed to know.

“Vigilante?” Dick surmised. An experienced one at that. It would definitely explain that knife accuracy.

“He kidnapped me,” Tim piped up. Of all the things that Dick expected the boy to say first, that was not one of them. Whatever questions he had for Bruce about this guest were thrown out of the window, replaced by much more urgent demands. And maybe a bit of snark. But can he really be blamed? The man wandered off to bumfuck nowhere and then came back with a black-haired blue-eyed vigilante. The kid is prime Bruce Adoption material.

Dick looked back at Bruce, noting his flinch at the accusation. “B, c’mon. I know you have a thing for taking in strays, but this does not fit that category. You can't kidnap people,” Dick said, trying to keep his exasperation out of his voice.

Bruce’s gaze flicked from Tim to Dick and then sighed. “Why don’t we talk about this somewhere else? Tim needs all the rest he can get,” he said, tone leaving no room for argument.

“You can just say that you don’t want to talk in front of me. You already kidnapped me. Leaving me out of a conversation isn’t going to break my little bitty heart,” Tim spat.

Dick snorted out a laugh and then tried to cover it with a cough. Judging by the patented Batglare that the other man leveled at him, he didn’t do a very good job. Still, the kid was funny. Dick would always enjoy it when someone called Bruce out on his shit, even if it was a universe traveler who had just tried to use him as a dartboard.

“We’ll be back in a minute. Please do not try to run away. You won’t get very far with those injuries,” Bruce said before practically dragging Dick out of the room and into Dick’s own room a few doors down.

"Tell me about the mission," Dick said before they even get into his room. He knew absolutely nothing about it. Just that it took his dad away from him for three months without warning.

"Got sucked into another universe while tinkering with some of the Apokolips tech we confiscated right before I disappeared. The mission was for me to find a way back. Found him along the way."

Dick hated Bruce's verbal mission reports. His digital or paper ones were fine, great even. But his verbal ones were always so bare bones that they usually left more questions than they gave answers. It was endlessly infuriating.

Dick sat down on the bed, reached under it, and fished out his med-kit, then smirked up at Bruce. The man was squirming, well as close to squirming as Batman could get. “Y’know, once a habit extends into another universe I think it evolves into a problem. What would Dinah say about this?”

“She would pat me on the back for helping and say that I did the right thing for helping a criminally neglected child.”

“Yes, as I’ve said, it’s very on brand for you. But who exactly is he? Besides the name I mean. He’s clearly trained. If not then he’s the best natural I’ve ever seen.” Dick pops open the kit and grabs his butterfly stitches, tossing them to Bruce. “You mind?”

Bruce grabbed one of Dick’s shirts out of his dresser, then sits down beside him. “Take off your shirt, I’ll stitch it up once Tim falls back asleep.” Once Dick’s shirt is off he gets to work putting on the bandages. Luckily, it’s not a very deep cut.
“He was aiming for my shoulder,” Dick said. It’s not a question. He knew the aim was non-lethal the moment things had settled. “Non-lethal wounds, extensive knife throwing training, tugs on the Batheart. Oh and can’t forget the black hair and blue eyes.” He rattled them off like a list of qualifications. “He’s a bat, right?”

Bruce hummed and placed the last stitch. “They called him Red Robin.”

Now it was Dicks turn to hum. “You said he’s neglected.” It didn’t add up. He knew better than most just how distant Bruce could be. Even after three years of therapy the man still had his days. But even at his worst, Dick would never have described his own Bruce as criminally neglectful.

“He doesn’t live in the manor,” Bruce started.

“Bruce, c’mon. Sure, it’s weird for a kid his age to have moved out, but it’s not exactly neglect.”

“I could tell you the rest if you would let me,” Bruce said, glaring at his son.

“Well, quit it with the dramatic pauses then. They’re perfect for my two cents,” Dick said as he slumped into his mountain of pillows. No matter if it was at the cave, Bludhaven, or the manor, his bed was always the comfiest place on earth. Maybe he’d bring Tim some of his plushies as a peace offering for being kidnapped.

“He doesn’t live in the manor, outside of the rare meeting in the cave, the family barely checks on him, and he patrols alone almost every day, injured or not.” Bruce huffed it out like it was the most offensive thing in the world, but Dick really didn’t get it.

“B, I hate to say it, but that just sounds like what I do in Bludhaven.” Sure, he visited the manor every other week, but past that he was too busy. It sounded perfectly reasonable to Dick. Definitely not kidnap-worthy. Though Bruce’s stray catcher tendency could definitely be a bias factor here.

Bruce glared down at Dick’s bedspread. Dick knew that face, he was deciding if he wanted to tell him something. It was rarer nowadays, something that mostly appeared during his first years as Robin. “Just tell me.”

“They ignored his emergency beacon three times.”

That was incriminating. You don’t ignore emergency beacons. Sure, every once in a while there would be a cause to wait. But even then, they didn’t go ignored. Backup was called from anyone they could reach. Bruce had called in the Flash once when Dick had to use his beacon but B was tied up.

“I don’t know more specifics on the rest, but just from listening to their coms, it’s clear how little they care about him. When he used his beacon this last time, two members of his team clearly wanted him to die.”

Dick could see the fury all across Bruce’s body. In the way, his head and shoulders hunched forward like when he was trying to intimidate a mobster, the white-knuckled grip he held on Dick’s bedspread, and the tense jaw that looked ready to crack the teeth it held.

“He doesn’t want to be here,” Dick said. If the way Tim had spat the word kidnapped wasn’t clue enough, the knife aimed at his shoulder was a solid lead.

“He thinks I took him to manipulate him against his own Bruce,” B said, pushing the air out of his lungs, letting a bit of the stress in his body go with it. “I told him I’ll help him get back once he’s healed.”

“Which will definitely not be happening,” Dick interjected. Like hell they were sending the kid back to that shitshow of a team, much less a family.

Bruce took a deep breath and gathered himself. Dick could tell he agreed. He probably wanted to run off with the kid during the first ignored beacon.

“We can’t keep him here against his will,” Bruce said, practically choking on the words.

“We can’t send him back. He’ll die,” Dick said. He tried not to raise his voice. The interior soundproofing of the manor was decent enough to keep quiet fights contained, but Bruce could never add as much as he wanted without making the place look odd, even for an eccentric billionaire like him. So Dick kept himself to a solid half yell and hoped that the empty room between Dick’s and the guest would keep it contained.

“I know,” Bruce started. It was clear he had a plan. “I’m not just talking about his stomach wound. We’re going to get him in with Dinah. When she decides that he is stable enough to go back and extract himself from his situation, we will let him.”

Bruce spoke with the same conviction he did when announcing the plans for a hostage situation, or a Wayne Foundation program. Even after all these years, Dick couldn’t help but feel a little settled by that firm strength.

“Would you mind going down and spending some time with Alfred? I have some things I would like to discuss with Tim, and I don’t think ganging up on him will give us any advantage.”

The biggest part of Dick wanted to tell him hell no and stomp behind him as they go in for good measure. But the more logical part knew that the kid probably didn’t have the best relationship to being interrogated by Bats, and that Bruce alone was the most likely to get answers. So he could settle for watching from the hidden mics. “Sure. I could use a good cup of tea.”

Chapter 4: Tim is Fine

Summary:

Bruce comes back to talk to Tim and give him an option for living arrangements. Tim is Fine™. And Tim starts on finding a way home.

Notes:

I promise it's going to diverge from Liminal Spaces soon. I just don't want to rush the setup too much. Though I am really itching to introduce Bart. I love him so much. Honestly, I'm really just holding myself back from throwing Tim at the Team.

Also, I know I'm updating a lot right now but I think it's just because I'm procrastinating other writing so this upload rate probably won't last.

Anyways keep the comments coming I love them!

Edit: I promise I will provide an explanation as to why mount justice is still around. I just really like the team having their own area and wanted to keep that.

Tim was not okay. Bruce he could deal with. Sure, it was weird to see Bruce being so soft to him, but it made it easier to separate this Bruce from his own. Every time this Bruce talked to Tim like he was Tim and not Red Robin, it was a reminder that this wasn’t his own Bruce. And that made it a lot easier to cope.

But this was Dick. In just a few minutes he had wiggled his way past Tim’s defenses and unsettled him to his core. Even in another universe the man shone like the sun and had laughed right after Tim had thrown a knife at him. His Dick had laughed with him like that once. Before Damian came around. Those were good memories. They were bittersweet, but still good, mostly. So hearing that laugh aimed at him once again was like a slap to the face.

He took deep breaths. This wasn’t the time to freak out. He could freak out and process all of this once he got back to his universe. He could tell his Dick about how weird it was and then maybe he’d hear the laugh again if they were alone.

Tim looked at the window. He could escape. If the hidden knives were any indicator then the security of the manor would probably be something he was familiar with, or could at least figure out on the fly.

But Bruce was right. There was no way he could do it without at least aggravating his injuries. He would probably pop most of the stitches getting down the wall, and he wouldn’t get very far before they realized he was gone. Not to mention he’d be leaving a literal trail of blood.

So escape wasn’t an option yet. Yet being the keyword. He’d just have to stall until he was healed enough to leave. It shouldn’t be too hard. Tim had information. Even if this Bruce was weird and soft and said that he wanted what was best for Tim, he had still kidnapped him. No matter how he acted, he was Batman at his core. Which meant that he cared for information. Tim could work with that.

Bruce returned eleven minutes and seventeen seconds after leaving. Whatever talk they had didn’t last nearly as long as Tim had expected. And it wasn’t nearly as loud. He was kind of hoping to catch the gist of whatever they were planning by listening in when Dick started yelling. Except the yelling never came. There was a moment where he’d heard the muffle of a raised voice, but it hadn’t been clear enough to make out.

“I’m sorry about that Tim. Dick has a tendency to yell and Alfred is always very strict about not stressing out his patients,” Bruce said, taking his seat next to Tim’s bed.

“Has it just not set in that you kidnapped me? Because we are far past yelling causing me stress.” It was like the man refused to accept that maybe kidnapping Tim wasn’t actually in his best interest.

“Stress you further,” he said.

Then Bruce got quiet. Tim had gotten used to Bruce being quiet soon after he became Robin. It wasn’t much different than the quiet he had grown up with. Now there was just another person in the quiet with him. He liked that. It made him feel less alone. Tim and Bruce could sit in the cave and work on cases for hours without saying a single word to each other.

Those silences disappeared over the years, interrupted by any of the other children coming down to help with a case or work on their own. It wasn’t till then that Tim realized he was the only one comfortable with that silence. Bruce had just endured it. He stopped enduring it later. Told him he needed to communicate more often.

So their routine changed. Tim started asking for Bruce’s thoughts on cases. Started giving his own ideas for tech. Started speaking in the cave. It was odd at first, but Tim grew to like it. Dick clearly did. They all took it as a sign of Tim opening up. Maybe it was.

A new routine crept in with the return of Jason. Bruce would snap at him if he even spoke about a case Jason was involved in. So their silences returned, if only partially. But that was okay. Tim still had a lot of cases that Jason wasn’t involved in. And he’d gladly talk about those. Sometimes, after a really tricky case, Bruce would pat him on the shoulder before rushing off to go catch whoever they had tracked down or exposed. Those were the best.

But the final nail in the coffin was Damian’s arrival. Damian did not like it when Tim spoke up about a case, and he made it known. Any time Tim dared to voice his thoughts, Damian would sneer, tell him to shut up, or talk over him. And Dick wasn’t much better. Told Tim to back off and let Damian develop his own detective skills. At least he was nice enough to lie about his reasoning. Still, by then the silence had returned in full.

Bruce cleared his throat. It snapped Tim back to reality. Bruce was staring at him. Had the man said something? “Red Hood is Jason.” It wasn’t a question.

Tim had long learned to suppress the flinch that threatened to worm its way up his spine at the mention of either of those names. It just reminded everyone else of what Jason had done to him, and they didn’t like that.

“Yes.” He’d expected this to be the first thing they talked about when Bruce had walked in earlier.

“And Robin?”

It was clear that he already knew who Robin was. Was this a test? Was Bruce trying to see how cooperative he would be? Well, if he already knew then there was no reason to hide it. And if it made this Bruce trust him more, then Tim would gladly give out already known information. “Your biological son you had with Talia Al Ghul.”

Bruce nodded, head bowed and staring at the bed with a solemn expression plastered on his face. “From what I gathered you two don’t have the best relationship.”

Tim snorted. If that wasn’t the understatement of the year. Still, he shifted, readying himself for what would come next. He had heard it ever since Damian had come to the manor. He waited for the accusations. For Bruce to ask what Tim did that made such a sweet innocent child react so violently. Like it wasn’t something that he was raised into. Like it was just a little quirk that Tim would need to deal with.

Dick’s words echoed in his mind. “He’s just a kid.” That was what Dick always said. That Damian was a kid and that Tim just needed to be the bigger person. He’d come around eventually. Maybe after another five murder attempts then Damian would give up.

Tim couldn’t even imagine there being a point where the two weren’t fighting. Dick would talk about it sometimes. How good it would be to have all of them at the manor for a dinner, getting along, maybe even staying for a movie afterward.

Sometimes he would even include Jason in those fantasies. Those were the ones that really made Tim’s stomach turn. Not because he didn’t want it. No, he wanted it too much. They aligned so perfectly with his old fantasies, before he became Robin, when he was just a kid stalking Batman. The fantasies of joining the Waynes for the holidays instead of lighting his menorah alone for the fourth year in a row. Reminded him too much of what he’d imagined when he first started out as Robin and would stare at Jason’s memorial and wish they could have met.

“Tim?”

Tim’s head snapped up and he stared at the man sitting in front of him with wide eyes. Bruce. Oh. He’d zoned out. “Sorry,” he said. “Yes, we aren’t very close.” Again, understatement of the year.

Bruce looks like he’s contemplating his words, which is something that Tim’s Bruce rarely did, and definitely not something he did for Tim.

“I am going to look into if Jason and Damian’s existences are a commonality,” Bruce said. Tim nodded because duh that was a given. “Would you feel safe staying here with them?”

Oh. Tim had not expected that. Why was Bruce asking him? It’s not like Tim owns the manor. “It’s your house. You can do what you want with it,” Tim said.

“But would you feel safe in the same house as them?” Bruce pushed.

“It’s fine.”

Bruce looked at Tim for a moment longer then sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Tim. I’m asking you this because, while your healing is important, I think there’s a good possibility it won’t be as quick if those two are around,” Bruce said.

Tim held the man’s eye contact and ignored the itch in his fingers to grab the knife from behind him. “Kidnapping isn’t good for healing either.” Tim could deflect. The man was clearly ashamed of what he’d done. And like hell was Tim going to let him forget.

“If you would feel safer,” Bruce started, keeping his tone perfectly even and unreadable. “We can get you set up in a room at Mount Justice.”

Mount Justice?

The question must have shown on his face because Bruce elaborated “It’s the base for Dick’s team. The closest thing I could find in your universe were the Titans, though that group has a bit more autonomy than this team does.”

“I’m fine here,” Tim said. It was true. He could suck it up. It’s not like this Damian or this Jason had done anything to him. Sure, they had both immediately tried to kill him unprovoked in his own universe. But they had reasons. They wanted to reach Bruce. But Tim had nearly no connection to this Bruce. So their motivation wasn’t there. Tim could do this. And anyway, if everything went as planned then he’d be back to his universe before they even got here.

In the silence that followed, Tim realized he had his own question. “What about the Me in this universe?” He asked. “I mean, clearly he didn’t become Robin. So, what? Is he in that house over there without a clue that Him from another universe is just down the road?” He said, gesturing in the general direction of Drake Manor.

Bruce let out a long breath and Tim braced for impact. He could recognize bad news from a mile away.

“You don’t exist here,” Bruce started. That wasn’t surprising, it was one of the most painless possibilities Tim had thought of. “The closest person I could find is a boy named Kenneth Jackson Drake. He is Jack and Janet’s son and, as you have gathered, he did not become Robin. He is currently on a dig in Mexico with his parents.” That was the most painful possibility he had imagined. His parents had never let him go on a dig with them.

“Oh,” he said after a few moments.

After that, the two sat in silence. Tim stared at Bruce while he waited for the man to asl another question. There was no way that was all he wanted to ask. But the next question never came. Maybe he was giving Tim a break. This Bruce seemed keen on getting Tim to lower his guard instead of having to beat through it. But jokes on him. Tim could play the long game. Tim had been Robin. He still worked with Batman. He couldn’t be a liability.

When Bruce got up to leave, Tim piped up.

“Can I have a laptop?” If Tim was correct about this Bruce trying to get him to lower his guard, then he’d get the laptop. And even if it was a fucking leapfrog laptop Tim would be able to make it work.

Bruce looked back at him, then gave him an amused smile. Tim blatantly ignored the way it made his heart twist because when was the last time his Bruce had looked at him like that?

“I’ll ask Dick if you can borrow his.”

Tim nodded then looked down at his blanket, waiting for the door to click shut before smiling to himself. He was on his way home. Once he got the laptop Tim would be able to bide his time and wait for Bruce to be out on a mission, then he’d be able to get into the Batcave. Past that, getting home would be a breeze.

Chapter 5: When do Plans Ever Work

Summary:

Tim executes his plan to get back to his reality but things don't go as expected. Turns out that taking on an entire team of highly trained superheroes is hard, even for a bat.

Notes:

The plot is plotting and I just want to write team fluff. Anyways something that really bothers me in bat-focused fics is when they make all the supers weaker which is really dumb in my opinion so yeah. The bats are still BAMF just not

The line at the end has a purpose that will make sense in context I promise. if you can guess the context then good on you.

Tim got his laptop. Dick walked in one day and gave him the laptop with a big smile that Tim’s Dick only had when he was trying to cover his nerves. Tim had swept for bugs the moment he was allowed to get out of bed and found one.
After that Tim had spent the next six hours periodically searching for more bugs, only to come up empty. He refused to believe that they’d only placed one bug in the room, not even a camera, but was forced to accept it when his tenth sweep revealed nothing. Either they were a lot better at hiding bugs than Tim’s bats were, or there weren’t any.

After that, Tim decided to test them. Every few hours he would call out for help, just loud enough for a bug to pick it up but not loud enough to be heard through the walls or door. Nothing. Not a single response.

So either they either, one, didn’t give a shit about it, two, knew he was testing them, three, had a camera to check, or four, there was no bug. The thought sent a shiver up his spine. Not being surveilled would make this a lot easier. Maybe he’d leave a note behind telling them to up their security before it was too late.

So he got to work again.

It didn’t take long for Tim to realize the gap in their universe’s security. Batman wasn’t the only one who was slacking. It seemed this universe hadn’t been forced to step up its cybersecurity yet. Which probably meant that Oracle didn’t exist, either because she was still Batgirl, or because Barbara Gordan didn’t exist.

While the thought of Babs not existing was not something he found pleasant, her lack of involvement was something he greatly appreciated.

She wasn’t the only one missing though. It seemed most of the tech-savvy heroes were missing. Working his way through Cyborg’s intricate firewalls was not something Tim was looking forward to. (Or super confident he could do without a full setup. Even then it wouldn’t go unnoticed. Was Tim jealous of Cyborg’s tech ability? Not at all.)

So, with concerningly little effort, Tim was able to work his way into the Watchtower’s system and give himself a nice little rundown on this universe. Specifically, how to get back to his own.

What he found was a device. A device not even kept in the Watchtower. Some sort of portal gun being kept at Mount Justice.

Tim pushed down the wave of nausea that churned in his gut when he thought of the place. During their conversation, Bruce had misinterpreted Tim’s reaction as confusion. No, it wasn’t confusion Tim felt. It was pain. He had been doing his best to forget the existence of the mountain ever since Kon died. He had done a great job of it too.

He took a few deep breaths. He could go back to forgetting later, right now he needed to come up with a plan. A damn good plan to get that gun and get the hell out before anyone even noticed. He wasn’t delusional. No way would he be able to beat the entire team by himself. Not if that roster was accurate.
He had plans to beat them, sure, but those took preparation. Those took equipment he didn’t have, and some plans would require teammates. Teammates that he didn’t have. And he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to fight them, even if he could.

He bit his lip and he stared down at the roster. It was taunting him. Bart, Kon, Cassie, M’gann, Gar, Babs.

Tim had never handled alternate dimensions well. Sure, he could focus on the mission and find his way back, but he always had to rely a bit more on his team than usual. Had to remind himself who was real. Who was his. He just couldn’t separate them as easily as some of his teammates could.

That’s how the next month went. Twenty-two days of jumping between discreetly testing the security of the manor, intense planning, and thoroughly ignoring the grief that was firmly planted in his gut.

But then, right at the beginning of August, Tim was able to put his plan into action.

Batman called on an impressive group of heroes (Flash, Superman, Martian Manhunter, Black Canary, and finally, Nightwing) and then sent out an Alert to the rest, saying that they were on emergency-only contact status.

While Tim was surprised that Batman had actually gotten help for the mission, he knew that the only reason there’d be an operation with this strong of a team without any explanation was if it was to get Jason and Damian. It seemed this Batman was taking no chances in their retrieval.

That was fine by Tim. Not only did it mean that Batman would be away, it meant that the Mountain’s Den Mother would be out too.

Tim closed his eyes and breathed. If he had access to the speed force he’d be vibrating. His plan was going to work. Tim wasn’t a betting man by any means, but he knew a good plan when he saw one. And this was good. All that was left was to execute it.

Tim worked his way out of bed. He wasn’t fully healed, but he was a hell of a lot better than before. At the very least if he tore a stitch his suit would be able to apply enough pressure by itself until he got home. By Batman’s books that was healed enough to fight.

Slowly, he made his way to the kitchen. Even without Bruce home, Alfred was making dinner late, right before patrol times. Tim had always been grateful for those meals as a kid, even when they came back on the pavement after a strong punch to the gut, or sometimes onto the mat if he was sloppy during training.

“Ah, hello Master Tim,” Alfred said the moment Tim entered the Kitchen. Whatever he was started already smelled wonderful. Some sort of soup if Tim had to guess.
“Hey Alfred,” Tim greeted.

“How are you feeling? I know you’ve been cleared to start walking around but I still don’t think you should be using the stairs unsupervised,” he said before turning back to his soup.

“I think today’s a good day. Not feeling much pain with the stitches. And I was getting restless up there all by myself. I forgot how quiet a house this big could get.” He hadn’t forgotten. He didn’t think he ever would. But he didn’t lie about the other part. He really was feeling great today. And he was definitely getting restless. Perfect for a mission.

This first step in the plan was really the only thing he felt bad about.

Drugging Alfred was not something he was proud of. Tim had stolen a paralytic dart from one of the weapon caches in the manor. He checked Alfred’s medical records to make sure that it would have no long-term negative effects and was pleased to see that he was in the clear.

“I’m sorry,” Tim said after stabbing the needle into the side of Alfred’s neck.

Tim suppressed a flinch when he saw the rage in Alfred’s eyes. He hated betraying Alfred like this, even if it wasn’t his own. But it was needed. He couldn’t have the man contacting Bruce before Tim could universe hop.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim said again as he gently laid the old man down on the floor. “Thank you so much for taking care of me, but I need to get back to my universe. You guys are really nice and it was nice being in the Manor again, but I’ve been gone for too long.” Tim didn’t know why he was explaining himself. It was a waste of time.

Alfred’s eyes softened and an impossible weight lifted off of Tim’s shoulders. The man understood.

Tim bit his lip and blinked away the starting tears. He didn’t have time to cry for an Alfred that wasn’t his. He needed to get to Mount Justice, quickly.

Tim raced up the stairs, snatching Dick’s laptop before heading into Bruce’s study. He rushed over to the grandfather clock and turned the time to 10:47. Even if he was a bit softer, this Bruce was clearly just as dramatic.

Bruce probably thought the biometric scans would have been enough to keep Tim from accessing the cave. They might have been if he hadn’t had so long to overlay his own with Dick’s.

The wall behind the clock let out a small hiss as the thick metal bolts unlatched and the door slid open. Tim sighed at the sight of the staircase. After Barbara’s injury, his Bruce had altered the cave to be accessible for her. They quickly found out that they all preferred to take the elevator when injured.

This cave had no elevator. Tim sighed and started his way down the stairs. He took it slow. The paralytic he’d used on Alfred wouldn’t wear off for another ten hours and there was no use wasting his energy just because he was impatient.

Once on the cave floor, he went over to storage. Tim had located his suit ahead of time through this Batcomputer’s inventory. He’d been surprised when it was marked as repaired. He was grateful though. It would be a lot easier to fight in his own suit than it would have been if he’d gone with his original plan, fighting in whichever old Robin suit fit best.

Tim relaxed into the routine of his suit’s latches zippers and clasps. The thrill of putting on his suit before a big mission was something he would never get enough of. No matter how solid the plan he made was, he always questioned if Tim Drake could do it. He didn’t question Red Robin. Red Robin had a track record. Red Robin got results.

After suiting up, Red went to the armory. His utility belt had been cleaned out, probably so that this universe's batman could advance his tech a bit. The gap wasn’t massive, probably wasn’t even noticeable to most, but Batman would never pass up a chance to prepare.

He filled his belt on autopilot, having the routine down to muscle memory. Finally, he had one thing left. He hated this part of suiting up. But Batman had been clear in their training. Use every weapon you’ve got and never leave one behind.

He opened the kryptonite vault and grabbed a shard. Just big enough to incapacitate. He wouldn’t be hurting Superboy too badly. Even if he left Superboy alone with this piece for an entire day he wouldn’t die.

Once his utility belt was fully stocked, he slid into the seat of the Batcomputer. Now was probably the riskiest part. He needed to send the Team on a fake mission. He’d done it before. When he needed to sneak around the Tower without anyone around. Or when Batman needed the Justice League out of the way but couldn’t do it himself.

Tim had the perfect mission planned. Something he knew would get their attention. And that even if the mission looked a bit sketchy, they’d write it off as Batman and Black Canary being gone.

A big sting for potential Cadmus Labs, all evidence found on Batman’s confidential mission. Tim had read about this universe’s history with cloning. It seemed a bit more volatile than his own. Outside of Kon, cloning wasn’t really done. But here, the Justice League had it flagged as a constant possibility.

He sent the mission to the cave and then tapped into the cameras.

One by one the team rushed into the meeting room. When their leader, Kaldur’ahm, entered, they snapped to attention.

Tim didn’t even try to stifle his laugh. Superboy and Impulse both looked so serious. They’d rarely given him that much attention during his own mission briefings. Still, there was the telltale sign of Impulse’s impatience. The edges of his body blurred, only the way a speedster’s could.

Kaldur’ahm split the teams up and they left the cave, leaving only Mal to handle the coordinating. Red felt a bit bad for the guy. Even with his size, it was clear he’d only started training recently. His abilities as a coordinator were good and given time he’d probably make a fine member of the team, but he definitely wasn’t ready for a bird.

Red gave waited thirty minutes before he got started. He locked down the cave as best he could without Mal noticing, and then he walked to the zeta tube. There was no way he wouldn’t be detected now. The tubes would be too loud, even if he did disable the announcements.

But just because he’d be detected didn’t mean he’d need to give up his advantage.

“Nightwing - B01”

“Back early Nightwing? We just got a pretty big mission so the team isn’t here to give you a big wel-”

Just as Mal turned to face him, Red swiped his staff across his feet, causing the man to slam to the ground. Before he could orient himself, Red Robin stabbed him with a syringe of sedatives.

Once Mal was knocked out, Red started his search. The mountain wasn’t as thoroughly inventoried as the Watchtower or The Batcave. And any recent changes were even less documented. It looked like ever since Nightwing left the team (which, wow, Nightwing left his team and they thought he was okay?) the team had started slacking on their paperwork.

Red found another surprise when he went to find the gun. A very annoying surprise. Batgirl had started upgrading security. Specifically, she’d started upgrading the digital locks on their containers. It wasn’t beyond his scope yet, but it would take time.

He took a breath and plopped down in front of the storage room. It would take time to get in. Batgirl had isolated this room from the Batcomputer. She’d probably been working on making Mount Justice less reliant on the Batcave and Watchtower for security. It sounded like a great plan, and given another month she’d probably be able to turn the mountain into an even more secure fortress than it already was. But for now, it just meant that this one section was really fucking annoying.

Red opened his wrist computer and then got started. He’d have to upload his biometrics if he wanted to get into the room without blowing the doors off, and that always took a frustratingly long amount of time.

So, for the next hour, Red sat on the floor, bored out of his mind. That is until he heard the hangar opening up. The Hangar that should be shut down and on maximum security. He accessed the camera and was greeted with the sight of Superboy, Batgirl, and Beast Boy landing in the SuperCycle.

Fuck.

They had the nearest location. Still, they shouldn’t be back for another twenty minutes.

The moment the Supercycle landed, the three heroes leaped out. Red had put the entire base on lockdown the moment that he’d started uploading his information to the new security. It would take a few minutes for them to him. Well, as long as Superboy didn’t start busting through the walls. But from what he could gather, while this Superboy looked almost exactly like his own, he wasn’t nearly as brash.

Those few minutes were a godsend.

Red Robin had a plan of attack. The only real threat was Superboy. This Batgirl, while trained, was mostly stealth and tech. She could do more than hold her own in a fight if needed, but she relied too much on the element of surprise. Then there was Beast Boy. He was new. While he had decent control of his powers, it wasn’t nearly to the degree of his own Beast Boy. And he didn’t have the combat training either.

The door emergency door behind him opened and Red Robin flung a Batarang. He’d been watching them make their way toward him. He knew exactly where they’d be standing. And he knew Superboy’s tendency to use his body as a human shield. It worked most of the time.

The moment the Batarang made contact with Superboy’s chest, it exploded into sticky clay. Embedded in that clay was a sickly green stone. Everyone’s eyes locked onto the glow and Superboy paled. It seemed this one had an even lower tolerance than his own.

Batgirl was the first to gather herself. But it was too late. Red slammed the end of his staff into the side of her head. It wouldn’t knock her out but it would slow her down for a few seconds. Enough for him to deal with the literal elephant in the room.

Red had forgotten Beast Boy’s tendency to use big animals when he didn’t know what else to do. Red Robin threw a few more expanding Batarangs and then flipped back. Batgirl was locked down in the clay, but Beast Boy shattered it in his rampage.

Red Robin did not like using drugs. While today might have evidence otherize, if he had the option, he didn’t drug people. That being said, tranqing the elephant sounded like a great idea. He reached into his belt and pulled out his rebreather and a canister of knockout gas.

Before he could throw it, someone yelled into the room.

“Star Wars is a better Sci-Fi series than Battle Star Galactica!”

Chapter 6: Look Who Showed Up

Summary:

Batman has taken a team of powerhouses without any details and now it has the team stressed. Then they finally receive a mission. But why does the report look so weird?

Notes:

Best boy Bart is finally here! I didn't really care about Bart when I started reading DC fics but over like the past month and a half he is slowly becoming my favorite of the core four. I love him so much.

Sorry about the wait, I got really behind in my lab class and had to do a bunch of labs on my own to catch up. then when I finally started this the beginning kind of got away from me. Anyways here this is! Also, this is for future reference. Who died first, Kon or Bart? I can't really figure it out. I want to say it was Bart but I'm not 100% sure.

Completely off topic: I was thinking of starting a Tim joins the batfam early fic. Idk if I'm going to do it but if I did, this fic would still be my main focus (fic wise). Yall have any interest in that?

Something was up. Bart could feel it in his bones. He wasn’t the only one that could tell.

Ever since the league departed for their mission and sent out the no-contact announcement the mountain was buzzing with activity.

Nightwing showing up on the mission roster meant that even the older members of the team were on edge. This many powerhouses were rarely sent out together, and the only time Nightwing joined League missions these days, was during a major crisis.

“Bart,” Jaime said from beside him. He was staring at Bart with an exasperation that Bart desperately hoped was fond and not annoyed. “It’s your turn dude.”

When the mountain started getting packed with the younger heroes, Cassie dragged him, Jaime, and Gar off to the new game room to find some distractions.

One of the many perks of having the mountain rebuilt with magic after the invasion was that they could do some renovations. Like this amazing game room.

They’d settled on Go Fish after Bart said he’d never played in the future and Gar declared that it was a crime to not know the most basic card game in existence.

It wasn’t technically a lie. There wasn’t really time to learn card games when being enslaved by the Reach. And if Bart caught on a bit easier than expected then they didn’t raise a fuss.

“Oh, um. Gar, got any sevens?”

“Go Fish,” he said.

Bart tuned out again. He’d been doing that a lot since coming here. For the first month, the team questioned it, but eventually, they realized and accepted that he was just thinking.

“Whatcha thinkin about?” Jaime asked. He always asked. And he’d accept when Bart would shake his head. Never pushed for him to explain.

Not that he could. They wouldn’t understand. Sure, they’d try, but how exactly do you explain new memories without receiving a full interrogation? He’d already had one of those when he first showed up. Not a fun experience, ten out of ten would not do it again.

“Nothing unique. Just worried about whatever world-destroying mission we’re being shunned from,” said Bart. “Cassie, you got any threes?”

“Go Fish,” She said, ignoring Bart’s huff. He was losing. Bad. “It doesn’t need to be world-ending. Any we aren’t exactly being shunned. Maybe they just needed to leave in a rush.” Bart could tell she was trying to convince herself more than convince him. She did that a lot.

“Right. It’s totally normal that Batman comes back from a three-month vacation to who knows where, basically goes no contact with the League for a month, and then only shows himself to put together a crazy strong team on a classified mission,” Bart said as Jaime asked him for any sixes. “And not only that. Instead of asking Batgirl to come along with him, he ignores her and drags Nightwing out from whatever hidey hole he’s been bundled up in.”

“He did not ignore me,” Barbara said from her place on the couch where she was alternating between vigorously typing on her wrist computer.

“Oh, totally, because you were really busy with all the training he’s been giving you this past month,” Bart said.

Cassie tried and failed to smother her huff of laughter. Barbara glared at her and said “I finished my main combat training last year. And Artemis and I protected Gotham for those whole three months he was gone. I probably just proved that I can handle the place without him.”

“So you’re not trying to hack into the Watchtower to find out what their mission is?” Jaime spoke up.

“She got into the Watchtower systems like an hour ago. Now she’s just sifting through Batman’s recently accessed files and patrol reports to see if she can find anything to clue her in on where he went,” Bart said, looking over to Barbara.

“How’d you know about that?”

“Because you’re a bat and bats are creepy,” Bart said, glancing up at her and smiling when met with her glare. It was getting better, but she’d need a bit longer to reach the full Batglare level. “Also I peeked on your screen when I went to get snacks.”

Honestly, It was pretty dumb of her to have potentially confidential information on full display and expect him not to at least take a quick little peek. Like, really, did she know him at all?

“So, what have you found?” Bart asked, abandoning the game and turning to fully face Barbara. Sure, spending time playing games with the team was fun and all that, but suspicious activity from a bat was always better. Well, more suspicious than usual.

“What makes you think I’ve found something?” Barbara asked. She’d already turned her screen away enough from Bart that it’d be hard for him to peek again without at least getting noticed.

Stupid Bats and their stupid crazy Bat training. It’s not like he was going to run off to wherever Batman was and demand to be put on the mission.

Sure, it’d be amazing to work on a team with those guys, but it definitely wasn’t worth the lecture he’d get from Gramps. He just wanted to be in the know. Y’know?

“Well you had a bunch of reports mapped out when I checked and it’s been a bit since then and y’know since you’re so great and have all that training I figured you’d have found something by now,” Bart said in a rush, just an inch away from speed talking.

So what if he was a bit nervous. Batgirl was staring him down like she was deciding between using him as a training dummy and target practice. He’d earned the right to be a bit nervous.

The entire room stopped and watched the two. Barbara stared at Bart for a solid minute before she sighed and started typing.

A moment later the display on one of the game room TVs lit up with a map. Across the map were fourteen points, plotted through Eastern Europe and branching down into the Middle East.

“These are the recorded destinations and flight paths of the Batplane in the last month, not including any League uses and other missions that are already accounted for,” Barbara said, looking up to glare at Bart.

She was clearly not happy to be sharing her thoughts. Or maybe she just didn’t want to share them with him. Well, boohoo.

“Why would Batman be going on trips to Europe without telling anyone?” Gar piped up. “I mean, it’s not like the League has a lot of contacts in that area. And none of those spots are near any of the current locations on the watch list.”

Bart stared up at the map. He recognized six of the points. He’d had to infiltrate them in the past. That’s what happens when a crazy egotistical supervillain has a freaky inappropriate attachment to your teammate. “They’re League of Shadows bases.”

“And how do you get that?” Cassie asked.

Before Brat could answer, Barbara interrupted. “After Aqualad and Tigress were extracted from their cover, the League decommissioned most of the bases that they were given access to. The majority of those bases were located throughout Europe and the Middle east. Ever since then. We’ve had trouble locating any new bases.”

“Why wasn’t the team called in for this?” Until now Jaime had just been staring at Bart. He’d been doing that a lot the last few months. Bart asked him about it a week after it started and he just said it was the scarab being weird and talking to him more than usual. Bart accepted it.

That’s what you do when basically everyone that you interact with either has superpowers or freaky ninja training. Things happen to them and they act weird.

“Probably the same reason he’s been ignoring Batgirl,” Bart said, catching the pillow that she threw at him in response. “Fine, he’s not ignoring you.”

“So, um, you said that you hacked the Watchtower files? Does that mean that he hasn’t been reporting to the Justice League?” Gar asked, glancing between the floor and Barbara while fidgeting with his tail.

If Bart weren’t so used to Bats disappearing to do their own thing then he’d probably be vibrating. But just like the scarab thing, he’d gotten used to it over the years.

“...Yes. I will have a word with him about it when he gets back,” Barbara ground out. “Or whenever I track his ass down,” she added under her breath.

Before the conversation could continue, a loud buzzer chimed throughout the entire cave and then Aqualad spoke up. “All members meet in the Hangar. Batman has assigned us a mission. You have five minutes to suit up.”

“I guess he isn’t ignoring you,” Bart said, smiling up at her before speeding off to the briefing.

Aqualad always tried to give a five-minute grace period for people to get suited up or finish whatever they were doing. It wasn’t really necessary since most of the team either sat around with their uniform under their clothes, wore their uniform more than they did normal clothes, had normal clothes as their uniform, or, in Bart’s own case, could zip into his uniform in a split second.

After three painstaking minutes, the entire team was assembled. Bart stood in the back, between Superboy and Blue Beetle. There were a few mutterings asking where Batman was and what the hell they were about to be assigned. Everyone knew that whatever this mission was, it would be totally moded.

“We just received a report from the team that Batman assembled. It says that in the past month, Batman has been gathering information on the new League bases we suspected were being built. In his search, Batman found a base that he could not take on through stealth alone and decided to form a team to storm the stronghold. Inside they found information that suggests that Ra’s has teamed up with Luthor for his own Cadmus cloning experiments.”

Beside Bart, Kon tightened his fists and glared at report. If he had heat vision he’d be searing a hole right through the mountain. Khaldur gave him a sympathetic look and then continued on with the report.

“Batman has sent us four locations that will be checking out. I will split you up into teams of three. Alpha squad will be myself, Bumblebee, and Lagoon Boy. Beta, will be Superboy, Batgirl, and Beastboy. Gamma will be Miss Martian, Kid Flash, and Blue Beetle. Delta will be Tigress, Static, and Wonder Girl. Team Delta will take the Bioship. I believe the rest of us have travel handled.”

Bart smiled. Missions, where he wasn’t trapped in the Bioship or the Sphere, were the best. Still, something was tugging at his gut.

He stared at the report, reading it over and over again. It felt familiar. Not the mission itself, just the layout. It was methodical and quick to the point but still gave a little bit more information than was strictly necessary.

Bart glanced over at Barbara and caught her staring at the report the same way he was. She was analyzing it, and whatever she was finding was making her frown.

“The assigned lab locations will be sent to team leaders Superboy, Miss Martian, and Tigress. I wish you all luck.”

With that, everyone scattered to prepare to leave. Everyone besides Batgirl. She continued to reread the report and then walked over to the terminal, downloading it to her wrist computer.

“Something wrong? You looked pretty worried during the briefing,” Bart said, making sure to keep his tone light. Bats always get worried when they think someone is reading them a bit too well.

“No I didn’t,” She said, shutting off her computer and heading to the hangar. “And I’m fine.”

Bart sighed. Bats.

Instead of speeding ahead to the hangar, Bart sent a message to M’gann telling her to leave and that he’d catch up in a second. He matched pace with Barbara as she walked.

One thing he’d learned about dealing with Bats was that there were two ways to deal with them. Consistently annoy them until they give in and spill, or give them silence so they’ll know they can talk. Well, at least when dealing with one Bat. Hopefully, it worked for them all.

“Did anything about that report seem off to you?” Barbara spoke up after a few seconds.

Bingo.

“Mmm, it was kinda weird. Felt too chatty.”

“Chatty. That’s a good word for it,” she said, frowning at the ground. “Get to the mission. I’ll look into it. Be ready to run back if needed.”

“Should we tell the team?” Bart asked. Even if he hadn’t been here since the beginning, even Bart knew that secrets kinda moded the team, like, all the time.

“No,” Barbara shook her head. “No use in distracting the team in case it’s a false alarm.”

Bart bit his lip but nodded and sped away. Even if he tried to argue with her she’d just glare at him. Wally may have acknowledged him enough to let him be Kid Flash, but that didn’t exactly extend to the whole team.

Not that they were mean to him or anything. They just didn’t really listen to him all that much. Which, not crash at all. But, what can a happy-go-lucky speedster from an apocalyptic future do other than keep running.

He was out of the hangar doors in a second, catching up to Miss Martian and Blue beetle in just under thirty.

“What took you so long?” Jaime asked.

Bart suppressed the shudder that threatened to tear up his spine every time he heard that slightly distorted voice. It was stupid. He could hear Jaime talk out of the armor without a problem.

Hell, even if Jaime just retracted the helmet, he could talk to him without even a twitch. But the moment that slight distortion was added, every cell in Bart’s body screamed for him to run. Run as far away from him as possible.

“Just wanted to talk with Batgirl about something. No worries,” Bart smiled.

Bart followed the mission, trying to get the nagging feeling out of his head. Well, following the mission was really just slowing down and staying close to M’gann and Jaime, but he still did it.

Then, twenty minutes later, after getting over halfway to their target Lab that just happened to be in fricking Bialya, Batgirl got on Coms.

“The mission is fake,” she said, straight to the point. “The reports came from the Batcomputer’s main terminal. It was accessed with Batman’s codes but only after failing five times. Whoever did this is good. They were able to stop all outgoing alerts. I wouldn’t have even known if the report wasn’t so weird.”

“What do you mean the report was weird?” Tigress asked.

“Chatty.”

“Thank you Kid Flash,” Batgirl said.

“We can talk more about the report on the way back. Everyone, return to Mount Justice as soon as possible. Kid Flash, you are authorized to go ahead alone. If you run into someone, do not engage,” Aqualad said.

Bart grinned. Not that he was planning to stay behind even if he wasn’t given permission. But it was always nice to not get in trouble after saving the day.

He nodded to M’gann and Jaime before zooming off. The world came to a near standstill as Bart accelerated to his top speed. Still, he was so slow. Not Wally slow. God, he did not want to think about Wally right now. Being lured away from the mountain while Batman had taken major players away from the Justice League spelled for something crazy moded. Maybe not Reach Invasion stuff, but definitely something big.

Bart arrives at Mount Justice ten minutes after team Beta makes it back and he wants very much to kick himself for being so slow.

Batgirl had reported that someone with a red costume and domino had broken into the mountain, drugged Mal, and was trying to break into the gadget and weapons storage. Specifically, the part that kept all of the dangerous things that they either didn’t really understand or didn’t have anywhere else to keep.

So, when he arrived, that’s where Bart sped off to.

When he got there, it was not a pretty sight. Superboy was down, encased in some clay blob that had a faint green glow to it. Definitely Kryptonite. Not crash. Not crash at all. Any time a villain had Kryptonite it meant automatic bad news.

Batgirl wasn’t doing so hot either. She looked like she could barely stand.

And then there was Beast boy. He was rampaging as an elephant, swiping his trunk in random big swings. He didn’t stand much of a chance of hitting his target. The guy was bouncing around like a ninja, heck, he probably was. He flipped over the trunk just moments before it would have slammed into his legs.

As Bart watched the fight, he realized he knew those moves. He knew that Bo. He knew those annoyingly close dodges. He knew that stupid wrinkle between the guy’s brow.

The boy reached into his belt and listed a canister of knockout gas. The design sealed the deal. It was Tim’s very own special design. Made so that he could have better control when throwing it.

Bart took a deep breath, forcing the air into his lungs as he fought back tears. He couldn’t get ahead of himself. He knew the protocols. He knew what to do.

“StarWars is a better Sci-Fi series than Battle Star Galactica!” Bart shouted.

Instantly, the boy stilled, only moving when Beast Boy tried to slam his trunk down on him.

“StarWars could never match the tension that Battle Star Galatica has!” He said, tossing away the gas canister and going back to plain dodging.

Bart glanced around. Superboy was staring at him while Batgirl alternated her gaze between Bart and Maybe-Tim.

“At least StarWars has a consistently interesting plot and doesn’t just rely on relationship drama to keep its audience engaged!” Bart shouted back.

“StarWars is just blasters and lightsabers while Battle Star Galactica has actual deep conflicts and moral problems that the cast is forced to confront so that they can reach peace to coexist,” Tim shouted, throwing a Birdarang at Bart, which he caught and snapped in half.

The moment the Birdarang hit the floor, the two locked eyes and Bart whipped across the room, dragging Tim into his arms and away from Gar.

“I knew you’d come,” Bart said, pushing his face against Tim’s chest. He briefly clocked how light the guy felt and filed it away as a question to ask later. Right now was for hugging. Because for the first time in months Bart was meeting someone from his original dimension. Not only that, it’s freaking Tim. This was like the definition of crash. Nothing could be more crash than this.

Tim’s grip on Bart was hesitant at best. It was like he didn’t believe Bart was real. Or that if he held on too tight Bart would shatter. It was how Tim had hugged him after meeting his future self. No, that wasn’t right. Back then, Tim had acted like he was the danger. Now, he just seemed in shock.

“Is it really you?” He said, voice watery.

“Heck yeah it’s me,” Bart said.

Even muffled by Tim’s suit, the message must have been clear enough because a second later Tim dragged Bart into his lap and wrapped his cape around him.

Tim’s hug wasn’t hesitant anymore, now it was all-encompassing. Like he was trying to shield Bart from the world.

Bart hadn’t been held like this once since coming to this world. They all used to hug like this. Taking turns shielding the others. He’d forgotten how much he missed it.

Their little piece of paradise didn’t last long.

“Kid Flash, would you like to explain what’s going on?” Aqualad said from the door. Behind him, stood the entire team.

Bart wiggled himself around until he could fully poke his head out of Tim’s cape.

“Tim, meet everybody,” Bart gestured out to the team but it only succeeded in dragging the cape in a small motion toward the rest of the room. “Everybody, meet Tim. My bestest friend in the whole wide multiverse.”

Chapter 7: Bart Does Not Approve

Summary:

The team does a little interrogation of Tim and then they call Batman. Bart is not amused.

Notes:

Sorry for the long wait guys. I got hit with the fanfic author curse and my mother has spent the past like month in and out of inpatient so taking care of her and making sure she is calmed down enough to be safe around us and herself has been stressful. I also had 30 pages due for my short story class but I was finally able to get those done and have no more writing for that. Yay for college. I also read so many fics while stressed so now I have so many ideas in my head but I'm going to try to focus on this story for now. Anyways I was taking care of that so sorry for this being short. I will try to get another chapter out soon but no promises. It did give me some time to plan for this some more so that was nice. All kudos and comments are appreciated they really help me stay confident about the story, don't be shy! I might not reply to all but I do see and cherish them all.

Tim ignored the confused looks and shouts of the other people in the room. Instead, opting to hug Bart tighter and bury his face in his hair. “You’re alive,” he said, internally cursing at the strain in his voice. He was crying behind enemy lines. He could already hear Batman screaming at him about controlling his emotions. Compartmentalize.

But right now Tim couldn’t think of anything other than the weight of Bart in his lap. Couldn’t smell anything other than the kiwi shampoo Bart always kept stocked in the tower. Couldn’t feel past the edge of his cape.

Tim was jolted out of his very comfy thoughts when Batgirl said, “Batmans not answering me.”

“So he really is ignoring you,” Bart said.

“He’s not ignoring you. I rerouted all his incoming communications to me. I’m the only person who can contact him right now,” Tim piped up, earning a room full of glares. “Nightwing and the rest of the team can still contact him,” he added in his defense.

Barbara storms across the room but Kaldur grabs her shoulder and steps in front. From there, Tim understood why this man was the leader. Kaldur was calm. Sturn, but not unkind. Bart’s outburst, and subsequent inadequate explanation, were probably the only things keeping a water-bearer off of Tim’s throat.

“Would either of you be so kind as to give a more coherent explanation?” He asks.

It’s a very reasonable question and one that Tim is happy to answer. Except. “Can we go to the mission room? I’d be happy to explain what all this is but if Batgirl manages to get a message through she’s going to cause a lot of chaos and Batman’s mission is pretty serious.”

“Oh, so she’s the one that’s gonna cause chaos,” Superboy grumbled from across the room. His skin isn’t looking as pale now that he’d had a bit of time away from the kryptonite. Now it has a healthy bit of tan to it.

“You just got through fighting with my team, so I hope you will understand our hesitancy to move you to another location,” Kaldur said before anyone else could make their two cents known.

“If I have direct access to the mountain’s main computer I can get a message out faster than I could on this half-fried wrist computer.”

The computer had been damaged during Beast Boy’s rampage. Tim had gotten sloppy and relied too much on muscle memory while fighting him. For a split second, he’d predicted the move of a more experienced Beast Boy. One who had spent years sparring with and learning from Nightwing. He hadn’t expected the wide arc of the elephant's trunk and dodged a second too late. The trunk clipped his arm.

At Kaldur’s hesitation, Bart piped up again. “C’mon guys he’s trustworthy, I promise. He’s just going to send a quick little status update to Batman and then we can get on with the explanation.”

The rapid-fire jabbing of Bart’s pointy elbow into Tim’s stomach told him not to argue. Not that he would. There wasn’t much else for him to do.

“Of course you think he’s trustworthy, he’s got you under some sort of mind control of something,” Superboy shouted. Beside him, Gar was nodding his head in emphatic and exaggerated agreement.

“Batgirl,” Kaldur interrupted them again. “Would you be able to tell if he tried to contact anyone else while accessing the main computer?”

“Yes,” She said, and Tim would’ve liked to argue with that except he was pretty sure she actually could.

Kaldur nodded and extended a hand to Tim who immediately lows his opinion of the other man because what if he actually was a mind controller and he just needed touch? Then boom, speedster and Atlantean under his control.

The walk –more like an escort-- to the mission room is quiet. Since Bart’s seat on Tim’s lap is no longer available, he plastered himself to Tim’s side the moment the two stood up. Jaime and Gar were doing their best to lure him away from Tim with attempts at conversation but it wasn’t doing much good. At least they gave up by the time the group reached the mission room. Superboy and Batgirl never stopped their glaring.

It was incredibly annoying. But, Tim had just finished breaking into their base and drugging one of their friends so he could give a little leeway. Plus, it was a little fun. Every minute that passed without Tim acknowledging the glare, Superboy got more irritated. Even when Tim and Kon had first met and were at the peak of their butting heads, Kon only got this mad when their fights lasted days.

Tim bit back a smile when Superboy grumbled something under his breath.

That was another thing. Kon had never been quiet about his anger. If he was mad homemade sure everyone around him knew it. He basically shouted it from the rooftops until he either talked out the problem or punched it. This Superboy grumbled. He grumbled and glared and if it weren’t starting to get on his last nerve then Tim might even find it a bit cute. Just a bit.

Tim stands in front of the main terminal while he waits for Batman to call. It had taken a few minutes for him to disable his security features but once he got through those it was simple enough to send a message to Batman. A simple “Call the Mountain when it is safe.”

Based on his original estimate, Tim knew that there wouldn’t be a call for another two hours. He told them that too. But the entire team had decided to stay and wait. The only one who left was Bart and even then he only left for a few minutes at most.

When Batman did finally call the entire team was assembled.

“Report,” Batman said the moment the connection was established.

Kaldur’s attempt to start a report was quickly shut down when Tim snapped back, “Shut up.” The words even surprised Tim. Sure, he knew his temper was getting pretty short. He had spent the last few hours in what was basically enemy territory, of course he was irritable. But he’d expected to at least keep his cool until their talk was over. Or maybe halfway through. Anything other than the first words out of his mouth.

“Red Robin.” For a brief second Batman relaxed, then he immediately stiffened again. The others probably didn’t notice. Well, Batgirl probably did. “Why are you at the mountain? Where is Agent A?"

“Agent A is fine,” Tim said. If there was one thing he knew, it was that there was no way he was going to make any headway in this if Bruce was worried about Alfred. “Did you secure the subjects?”

Batman closed his eyes and sighed. “Please do not call them subjects.”

“He broke into the mountain,” Superboy shouted from behind him. Looking behind him, Tim could practically see the veins bulging on Superboy’s temples.

Batman took another breath and scanned the room before settling on Tim again. “Red Robin, why did you break into Mount Justice.”

Okay, so this might not be something that was known to everybody, but it should've been. Because it is important. Tim hated stupid questions. Always had and always would. Stupid questions like that one.

“Because you kidnapped me and I would like to go home,” Tim snapped. “I think that’s a pretty damn reasonable request. Don’t you think?”

All of the grumbles and whispers and shifting throughout the cave came to a halt as the words settled. Even the activity on the other end of the line stopped. Beside Tim, Bart had gone stock still, eyes trained on the Bat on screen.

“You were dying,” Batman said. It was more of an explanation to the audience than anything between them. They’d had this conversation dozens of times over Tim's stay at the manor.

Tim chanced a glance over at Bart. He was no longer still. Now the edges of his body are blurring. He was probably barely holding himself back from interrogating Tim about why he had almost died.

“I’m not dying anymore. What’s your excuse now?”

“We’ve had this conversation before, Red Robin. I’ve told you. Your environment was not safe or conducive to healing. When a professional has deemed you ready to return, you will be sent back.”

“Newsflash, Batman. Therapists exist in my world,” Tim said. He patted himself on the back for not yelling that. He certainly hadn’t stopped himself the other times.

“As I said before, would you go to one if sent back? Would your family allow you to?” Batman growled back.

Tim was clearly testing his patience. Well, fuck his patience. Tim would like to get home thank you very much.

“Is he still living with the bats?” Bart piped up.

“No,” Batman answered in Tim’s stead.

Tim was busy giving Bart the best glare he could manage. He knew Bart's opinions on the bats. He and Kon were not very subtle while they had planned their intervention. Nor were they subtle in trying to keep Tim at the tower as often as possible.

Bart turned and squinted up at Tim who resolutely met his eyes. Batman didn’t lie. Tim wasn’t living at the manor anymore.

“Is he still working with them?” Bart said, not looking away from Tim.

“He was, yes.”

And with that, whatever decision Bart had been running in his head at the speed of light was suddenly made up. Bart turned back to the screen and so did Tim. He ignored the instinct that told him to interrogate Bart and get every detail of whatever crazy plan the boy had concocted. That could wait.

Right now he had a new problem to deal with. Batman was staring at Bart with a single-minded focus that could only bring trouble. Nothing good came out of getting Batman’s attention. Bruce’s? Sometimes. Batman’s? Never.

Tim cleared his throat and inwardly let out a relieved sigh when it grabbed Batman’s stare at him. “Mission report?” Judging by the fact that Batman hadn’t snapped at him yet or even threatened him with a cell, Tim was pretty sure the trip was a success. Jason and Damian were safe. They were returned to the family and they would be at the manor soon enough. With Tim. He resolutely ignored the lightheaded queasiness that thought gave him.

“Debrief will be conducted at the cave,” Batman said. There was a bit of extra growl to his voice, probably to shock the frozen heroes behind him into action. Even if it was Superman, B never liked gawking. Especially not when he was losing. The thought almost made Tim smile. “Batgirl, escort Red Robin to the Batcave and check on Agent A.”

“I’m going with him,” Bart said.

Tim forced himself to abort the motion to tug his friend under his cape. The reflex was something that had developed during their early days as young justice but it had mostly disappeared as the two got older. Tim cursed it now. Batman had caught the aborted movement and, behind the lenses, his eyes were trained on Bart.

“Fine. But we will be talking about this,” He said, glaring at the little speedster.

Tim was going to wring his friend's neck. How many times had Tim told him not to get Batman’s attention? It had at least six pages alone in the young justice rulebook.

Chapter 8: Multiversal Emotional Support Animal

Summary:

Batman returns from his mission with some cargo in tow and Tim is very stressed. Bart is very cute though.

Notes:

So, long time no update. This semester kicked my ass but I passed all my classes. My mom has been in and out of inpatient a lot since her bout of psychosis. Sorry about the very late update I am going to try to get back to updating this more often.

Batgirl escorted Bart and Tim to the Batcave hours ago. They only had to wait a few more minutes until the Batplane would land and they would be faced down by the towering form of Batman. Tim could get through that. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before, and once he got back to his own universe he would without a doubt do it again. What was really making his skin crawl were the other passengers that would be joining him.

Not long after Batman ended the call, he sent Batgirl a confirmation that Jason and Damian were with him. A small part of Tim was been relieved when the message went through because she finally stopped staring at him and Bart like there were bombs strapped to their chest. A much bigger part of Tim wanted to throw up at the idea of having to deal with another newly revived Jason and newly freed Damian.

“Are they gonna be here soon?”
Right, that was the other thing. Bart. Batgirl hadn’t let them out of her sight yet so he hadn’t gotten the chance to yell at him yet. And now they were going to be confronting Batman and his killer kids without even the vaguest idea of a plan. Great.

“You asked that less than ten minutes ago.” Batgirl sighed through her teeth and continued to glare at the little speedster. Ever since stepping foot in the cave, Bart had made it his mission to annoy her to death. Tim was fairly confident that, given a few more hours, the plan would have worked.

“And you keep saying soon like that’s an actual answer. Soon isn’t a timeframe. It’s just whatever stupid notion of time your brain has based on the limited amount of information you are willing to give us. Plus you could always be lying.” Bart said the argument in a single breath with practiced ease. It was the same argument he gave every other time she answered. He was much less affected by this stalemate than her.

“And if I told you they will be landing in one minute, a definitive timeframe, then suddenly I’m not lying?”

“Well, then how would I trust any of your other answers? And everyone knows trust is the most important part of being a team.” Bart smiled.

Even above Kon and Cassie, Bart had been the one pushing for Tim to open up to young justice. Any time Tim showed up to their meetings, training, or hangouts, with even the slightest of bruises that he wouldn’t explain, Bart would keep pushing and pushing until Tim either gave in or pulled him aside and asked him to stop. And he always listened, whether Tim opened up or asked for a break, Bart listened to what Tim wanted.

The doors to the hangers creaked and slowly slid open. Tim sat stalk still as he watched the batplane slide near-silently into the cave, landing with a thunk. At some point during Tim’s staring, Bart had zipped over to him and thrown himself over his lap like a weighted blanket, or a therapy dog.

As the ramp of the plane popped open with a hiss, Tim reached for his belt. Batgirl had stripped his utility belt before allowing him to step foot into the zeta tubes, but ever since stepping foot in the cave, she had been underestimating Bart. Tim had long since taught Bart how to steal, and this universe was clearly not prepared for a high-speed thief. All through his jitters and bursts of speed, Bart was swiping Batarangs, smoke bombs, and a collapsable staff.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, the shrill squeak of bats drummed against Tim’s head. Then, the footsteps started. Four separate sets, each one near silent in their approach yet thundering in the surrounding tension.

“Who the fuck is that?” The voice was hauntingly familiar. He knew it was just his imagination. He could see the man in front of him, face bare, yet Tim could hear the slightly modulated voice of Red Hood.

“Language.” It was Batman standing before him, yet he sounded like Bruce. It made Tim’s skin crawl. That wasn’t how Batman was supposed to sound. Batman wasn’t soft. Not around Tim. Not with Jason back.

“Explain yourself, Father.” Damian sounded just as young as he remembered. He’d been fooled by it once and he wasn’t eager to repeat it.

“Hi, I’m Bart, This is Tim.”

The three turned to look at Bart. Batman’s gaze settled, inspecting Bart, while the other two focused on Tim. He kept his breath steady, forcing his heart to slow.

The moment he heard the plane Tim was slipping his cape over his shoulders, hiding his body under the cloth. It was an action drilled into him by Batman the moment he was given a cape. Hide your body and you hide your movements. It was a practice that served Tim well as he slid two Batarangs between his fingers and wrapped his other hand around his collapsed staff.

“Why is Bart here?” Dick asked, only to be interrupted by Jason before anyone could answer.

Tim tensed as Jason lifted a finger and pointed at him. “You look like you just dragged yourself out of a coffin so I’m guessing you’re a new kid that the old man picked up.” Then he moved his finger down to Bart. “And you look like you just did a line so I’m putting my bet on a new speedster.”

“Father has not taken in any more charity cases since his lapse in judgment with you, Todd.” Tim could barely suppress his flinch at the hiss in Damian’s tone. Even back home Damian rarely sounded like that anymore. Now it was just a cold superiority. No need to tear down what you already stand above.

“I’m just a temporary guest. I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” Tim musters up the best smile he can, it tugs on his lips and pokes at his cheeks like toothpicks. It reminds him of his mother.

“This is Timothy Drake.” Bruce starts, and Tim has to bite down his reflex to correct him. He’d rather scratch out his eyes than hear Drake or god forbid Timothy come out of the brat's mouth. “He is going to be staying with us for the time being. He is in the room next to yours, Jason.”

“Well isn’t that nice. Gonna go upstairs and crash. I’ll deal with whatever this fuckshit is later.”

“We need to talk,” Barbara interrupted before Jason stepped foot on the stairs.

“Of course we need to talk barbie,” he sighed, swinging on his heel and sitting on the steps. “So get talking, I need my beauty sleep, and the League of Shadows isn’t exactly an environment conducive to sleep.”

Batman held up a hand to quiet him before Damian could spit back a defense of his great and noble lineage and how they had the most optimal sleep schedules in the world. “Is Alfred alright?”

“I got him into his bed before we settled down here to wait,” Barbara said, getting a satisfied grunt in reply. “And now that you’re here. Explain.” She was glaring at Bart again. Being tricked had clearly pissed her off.

“Tim got kidnapped by your Batman, broke into Mount Justice, fought Beta Squad, stopped fighting Beta Squad, and then we are here,” Bart said, zipping off of Tim’s lap and sitting next to him. Directly between Jason’s path to Tim.

For a lovely and brief moment, the cave was silent. Then Jason started laughing. And Tim could taste the iron of the blood in his mouth. Feel the ache of a phantom kick to his ribs. The tug of a Batarang’s edge on his neck.

He suppressed his flinch though. Kept it down to a small twitch in his hand, hidden beneath his cape. But Bart felt it, and grabbed Tim’s hand, and for the first time since the Batplane landed, Tim felt like he could breathe.

Batman looked between Tim and Jason and Tim felt like his skin was too tight. Maybe he hadn’t done as good a job as he thought. But then Batman’s shoulders slumped an almost imperceptible amount and he pulled down his cowl. Then it was all Bruce, and Tim couldn’t understand why the man was looking at him like he was made of glass instead of his real kid who just came back from the dead.

“Thank you for the information, Tim. I know you are having a hard time settling in here, and my absence hasn’t helped with that. But I hope now that things are settling down we can get to know each other and work toward your recovery.” The way Bruce was talking made his skin itch. This wasn’t how he is supposed to talk to Tim. He was supposed to give him a vaguely grateful nod and let Dick give out any praise. And he definitely wasn’t supposed to be worried about Tim’s recovery.

Except that was all he’d worried about. Every time they talked it was about his recovery. How he was feeling, how the treatment was going, if he pulled any stitches. And Tim just couldn’t understand.

“You’ve got your kids. Can I go home now?” Even without seeing it, Tim could tell that Bart had a white knuckle grip on his hand. But he couldn’t feel bad about it. Bart was happy here. He’d seen him with the team. They were happy. Bart was happy and Tim would just take that away if he stayed.

Bruce’s jaw was clenched and it took a second for him to respond but the words were still softer than Tim expected. Much softer. “You need to stay here Tim. At least until you’re recovered enough to seek help in your own dimension. You know this.”

Great. And now everyone was looking at Tim like he was a case to be solved. Well, not as much Dick. He was staring at Jason like he was Jesus, not sparing more than a passing glance at Tim. He tried not to take it personally.

“So, what? You just keep me locked up in the manor until you decide I can go back?” Tim said, being extra careful to keep his voice even.

“You can’t hold kids hostage B. I mean it was bad enough when you snatched me off the street but at least I consented,” Jason said from his place on the stairs. He was subtly angling his body away from Dick and Tim would bet money that the only reason he was even paying attention to the conversation was because he was avoiding the one with Dick.

“He should be grateful that Father is letting him stay,” Damian said as he stalked over to Tim. “Father informs me you are injured. Returning to the field would be foolish, so you will stay here until you have received proper treatment.”

“I’m fine.”

Damian just made a tsk noise and then headed for the stairs.

“So, nobody gonna question why the speedster is here?” Jason said, scooting aside to let Damian up the steps.

“I’m Tim’s multiversal emotional support buddy,” Bart said with a proud smile as if that explained anything.

“He is from my universe. Or at least his memories are,” Tim added when Bruce raised a brow.

There was another moment of silence and then Bruce let out a long and tired sigh. “Is any of this information time-sensitive?” He finally asked.

It was an odd question. Batman had a strict report system, but the only time reports were limited to time-sensitive information was during an extreme emergency. Out of habit, Tim’s gaze flicked up to the Batcomputer to check the small Arkham security overlay they always had up. No breakout.

“I mean nothing is really time-sensitive so-,”

“No, it isn’t,” Tim said, interrupting Bart. Revealing that Bart had hidden multiversal travel was already enough of a problem. Revealing the crazy amounts of time travel that Bart had told him about? Yeah, that would get Batman’s attention, no matter how seemingly lazy this universe’s Batman was.

Tim watched as Bruce took a few breaths, watched the others wait for his response. “Bart, you go back to the mountain. We will handle this with a full league meeting. Batgirl, you can head home for the night. The rest of you need to settle in. It’s been a stressful night.” In typical Batman fashion, he didn’t wait for a response before swooshing his cape behind him and making his way to the stairs, Damian following at his heels the moment Bruce was in the lead.

“Impulse just revealed that he has been hiding a lifetimes worth of memories from the team and we are just supposed to wait? Not a single question about why or how or anything?!” Batgirl yelled after him. Tim knew she was mad but yelling at Batman was not a good idea. A one-way ticket to backhand land. At least it would get the heat off of him and Bart.

“He says there isn’t any time-sensitive information, so there is no reason not to wait until the entire league is present,” Bruce said as he nudged both Damian and Jason past him and into the manor. Tim watched as Jason avoided the touch, taking it for granted even after coming back to life.

“So we are just supposed to believe him? Not any interrogation?” She sounded frantic. And frankly, if he was in her position he’d agree with her. He’d probably even force Bruce to get a tox screen.

Then, Bruce turned to Tim. They locked eyes and Tim pulled Bart closer in his lap. “I’m choosing to trust them. I’ve put Tim through a lot of stress recently, and even though he went about it wrong I don’t believe he meant any real harm with his attack. So I’m choosing to trust the two of them.”

The clock doorway to the manor shut as Bruce stepped through it. Batgirl was glaring at Tim and Bart like they’d just run over her cat. Dick wasn’t much better, staring up the staircase as if Jason was still there.

All that Tim had to face now was living in the Manor with both Jason and Damian. He was gonna vomit. Or die. Probably both.

Notes:

How well do you think this living arrangement is going to go?

All kudos and comments are appreciated they really help at getting me writing! Constructive critiques are lovely and even a comment asking me to update is okay as long as you also say something like you love the story.

I love Bart so much and I really think I'm going to end up making this Bart/Tim/Kon (not this fic but maybe later in the series).

Chapter 9: Tim and the Disastrous Family Dinner

Summary:

Tim and Alfred have a little talk. Tim eats dinner with the Waynes and that goes about as well as expected. Tim and Jason talk. Bruce breaks some important news.

Notes:

I have not forgotten about this fic. Thank you to all the comments while I was away they are what kept me wanting to come back to this! Feel free to ask for updates or just tell me if you enjoy it. Even threatening me to update! Anything to remind me of this fic and if you like it!

Things went okay for a solid three hours. Sure, it was nearly all spent with Bart and Tim locked in his room, only leaving when Bart sped out for a snack or something to drink, or whatever Tim wanted him to retrieve. But other than that it was all uninterrupted chatter.

Bart was clearly enjoying this other world, he raved about the Team like he would Young Justice. Tim, for his part, was all stunned silence, and hesitant cuddles. With everything going on it hadn’t really hit him that this was Bart, his Bart who was dead. The Bart he had attended the Central City funeral for.

Now, in this solitary space, Tim could relish in his friend’s presence. Listen to him drone on and on about the differences between the two worlds, basking in his slightly too-fast voice and the incessant tapping of his friend’s hands and feet.

It didn’t last though. Bart got a message about an attack on Central City, Mirror Master hijinks apparently, and after lots of sorrowful looks and promises to return, jets off to save the day. It’s an ability that Tim is very envious of.

A soft rap at the door made Tim jump. Without Bart by his side, he felt more on edge than he had his whole time here. Or maybe it was the news he knew was coming.

“Master Timothy, dinner will be ready soon. Will you be joining us?” It was Alfred. That’s all Tim thought. Alfred who less than a day ago he had poisoned.

Instead of replying Tim got up and grabbed the doorknob with a firm hand, straightened his back, took a breath, and pulled it open. Now was his time to buck up. “What did you make,” Tim said with a smile.

Alfred shakes his head as they walk, a small smile on his face. “With the arrival of Master Damian and the return of Master Jason, I thought that it would be best to allow for a more specialized menu.” He said it to Tim with a sly smile, like he was teaching some trick of the trade. “Master Jason and Master Bruce are having chilidogs from his favorite stand and Master Damian is having beef dolma. Is there something you would prefer?”

Tim knew he should be thinking about what he wanted to eat. What he could trust Alfred to make that wouldn’t be stuffed full of anesthetics. Maybe something sealed. If he was lucky then he could get Alfred to take him shopping, and buy it himself before anyone else could handle it. Except that sounded exhausting. Tim was tired down to the bone, and his slashed stomach still hurt, the stitches red with irritation from his earlier fighting.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” he settled on. It was unlikely he’d dose his own meal, plus Tim could just switch their plates before eating.

Alfred smiled at that. Like he expected it, and it made Tim’s stomach twist. He should apologize. He knew that, but it felt wrong. Tim was the one who was kidnapped. Alfred was helping This Bruce keep him here. But that alone kept slanting in his head. In what world would Alfred let Bruce act like that? Even back home, where Alfred and Bruce’s relationship was more terse, with Alfred turning a blind eye every time Bruce did something he didn’t like, kidnapping kids was too big of an offense.

Tim pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and swallowed. His mouth was dry. This shouldn’t be that hard. “I’m sorry,” he finally spit out. It was quiet, but in the otherwise silent hallway, crystal clear.

“It’s okay my boy.” Tim ignored the pang in his chest at that. “This is a stressful situation. We knew you would do something at some point.” Alfred raised his head, gazing at the ceiling like it was the open sky. He took a breath and then looked at Tim. “I’m just thankful nobody was seriously injured.”

Tim bit his lip. Everything Alfred said was true. There were no two ways about it, this was stressful. And even if this Batman is soft, there is no Batman that wouldn’t expect at least one escape attempt. So why did he feel so bad?

“I poisoned you.” Tim choked out.

Alfred hummed and nodded his head. “That you did.” Tim didn’t know what else to say. They weren’t ignoring the attack but what did he do now? It’s not like he could go back and stop himself. Not that he would.

After another bout of silence, right as they neared the dining room, Alfred placed a hand on Tim’s shoulder. Tim barely stopped himself from slapping it away and darting to the front door. His mom would be very disappointed at his lack of manners.

“I’m sure you know from your own world, but Master Bruce is not a master of communication.” Tim opened his mouth, ready to argue. “He is talented in mission communications, however, interpersonal relationships have never been his strong suit. It is something he has had to work at, something I have worked with him on.”

Imagining Alfred teaching Bruce how to play nice with other kids was laughable. Tim wondered if his own Alfred had ever tried that. Judging by the differences in worlds if he did try it he failed.

“What I am trying to say is that Master Bruce taking you here against your will was not something he should have done. We all know this. That being said I hope that you can use this opportunity to rest.” he turned fully to Tim and placed his hands on Tim’s shoulders, a firm grip.

For a second he just stared. Tim squirmed under the man’s gaze but he couldn’t bring himself to move. How long had it been since somebody had seen him? Not just looked, but seen? Since Kon died maybe?

“I can’t possibly know everything about this world that you’ve come from, but I want you to know that you are welcome here. Whether that means this manor, this family, or wherever you find yourself. You have a place here.” Alfred pulled him into a quick yet firm hug that stunned Tim, then he patted him on the shoulder and walked into the dining room.

Tim stood there, listening to the chatter in the room just around the corner as Jason and Bruce greeted Alfred. To Damian complimented the cooking, and Jason raved about finally getting a chilidog and how the league diet was way too strict. And wasn’t that a trip? Hearing Jason complain about the dietary restrictions of the League of Assassins and agreeing with him.

The conversation came to an uncomfortably abrupt halt when Tim entered. Damian, who had just been defending the honor of the league’s diet, stopped talking and stared at the newcomer. Tim, for his part, was also staring. But while all of the bats were staring at Tim, all he could look at was Alfred, sitting at the other end of the table, a table much smaller than the one in his own world. Alfred was sitting with the family.

Dick, who Tim had forgotten was still here, was the first to say anything. “You’re up!” His voice was overly cheerful, and when he ran over and pulled Tim into a hug it was just a bit too tight. Judging by that and Jason’s poorly hidden glare, news of Alfred’s poisoning had made the rounds. “Sit down. I saved the seat next to me.” Right by Jason, and not next to Alfred.

Once Tim sat down Alfred got him a bowl of some soup he didn’t recognize then returned to his own seat. Dick argued that he should get it but Alfred silenced him with one stern look. He, like Tim, probably expected a revenge poisoning. Though maybe not. Even at his meanest revenge stuff wasn’t Dick’s type. Though Tim hurt Alfie so, anything goes.

“We were just talking about Jason’s time with the League,” Bruce said in lieu of greeting Alfred huffed as he ate his soup. When Tim was welcome at the Manor Alfred had never liked work talk at the table. Guess that’s true in every universe. “Have you interacted with them much in your world?”

Damian looked affronted by the idea, more so when Tim said “Yeah. I’ve fought with them a bit.”

“Their training is stupid hardcore. I thought that Bruce’s was overkill but their stuff was next level.” Tim almost laughed at that. Jason’s Robin training back home was comically miniscule. Anything would be harder than that.

“Of course it is. The League doesn’t stand for incompetence,” Damian practically spit it at Jason. They clearly knew each other already, and Damian had already made his judgment.

“Well they just got their butts kicked so maybe they should try something new. Get away from those thousand-year-old techniques,” Jason taunted, a sharp grin on his face.

Just as Tim expected Damian to jump across the table, Dick interrupted. “So, Tim. Bruce hasn’t really told us anything about you. I mean, he said you were a bat in your world but that’s about it.”

“I was Robin after Jason.” That earned him a dark look from the boy, now barely older than him, maybe a year. “Then once Damian showed up I became Red Robin and he became Robin.” Damian puffed up his chest at that.

“As is my right.”

“Hey, I’m Robin. Just because Bruce couldn’t keep it in his pants doesn’t mean you can waltz in here and take it,” Jason said. His fists were balled tight on the table. The prospect of losing Robin would upset anyone.

Before the argument could continue, Bruce took a deep audible breath and the two dropped it. Tim, though, was tenser than ever. He held his spoon in a white knuckle grip and stared down at his soup, willing it to magically transport into his stomach so he could leave.

“Father says you do not have a good home life.” Damian said it like it was a statement but his raised eyebrow was a clear question. A mean part of Tim thinks that Damian probably doesn’t even know what “a bad home life” means.

“He is being overdramatic” Tim takes a spoonful of soup and sips at it. Talking to Damian, hell, being around the demon spawn, is not an affair he wants to continue. “I’m not as close to my Bruce as he thinks I should be. So he’s making me go to therapy.”

Damian scoffs at this, a response that Tim had been hoping for. The league’s dismissal of therapy and mental health was something drilled deeply into the kid in his own universe and even his Robin training hadn’t gotten rid of it fully. Jason on the other hand. Well, Tim phrased it like that for a reason.

“Therapy is a good resource,” Jason grounded out. “If B thinks you it then you probably do.”

Okay, well, Tim would have preferred if Jason argued with Damian about the merits of therapy thank you very much.

“You can’t have been a very good partner to Father if he barely knows you and is already questioning your mental soundness.”

“Hey,” Dick interjected, but Jason pushed past him.

“Not like an assassin would make a very good partner. Don’t know if you heard up out there in bumfuck nowhere but Robin actually saves people.”

For just a second a flash of hurt passed over Damian’s face, he glanced over at his Dad then turned to glare at Jason, his face red. “I am the blood son. I have been trained since birth for this. It is my right,” Damian hissed, his voice steadily getting louder with each word until he ended with a yell. Still, there was a falseness to his tone that wasn’t there in his time. Like he was just repeating what he had been told over and over.

On instinct, Tim looked down at his spoon, wondering how much damage he could do if he threw it. He barely stopped himself. Jason, faced with losing Robin just hours after returning, had no such qualms though and chucked his knife across the table and right at Damian who expertly avoided it.

“Boys,” Bruce barked.

Maybe it was the violence, or maybe it was just Bruce’s voice, or worst of all maybe it was the small flash of sickening familiar green in Jason’s eyes as he threw the knife. Whatever it was, Tim suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here. Anywhere that didn’t have Jason sitting on the edge of his chair, ready to fling himself across the table. That didn’t have Damian with a knife clutched in his hand or Bruce standing over everyone, sharp anger lining his face.

If you asked Tim he couldn’t tell you what got into him. But he grabbed his own knife in one hand and his bowl of hot soup in the other. In a flash, he threw the soup at Jason, swiped at Dick beside him who had to step out of range, then darted out of the room. He didn’t have a place to go, his only goal was getting out of there.

He heard the yelling behind him, Damian’s fury, Dick and Jason’s calls for Tim to stop. Bruce’s heavy footsteps chasing after him. He felt like someone was choking him. Or was it the feeling of the batarang against his throat? Either way, he couldn’t get air. Every step he took, every pump of blood from his heart was stealing oxygen. It didn’t matter though. If he got away he would be fine.

The moment Tim stopped to think he knew it had been a mistake. He locked himself in one of the spare bathrooms. If he left the manor grounds they’d catch him quickly. But if he cornered himself he could build a plan. He could gather the weapons stored in this room, sneak out of the small window, and maybe steal one of the cars in the garage.

Yes. That was the plan. Tim popped open every false bottom of the drawers and unscrewed the pipes, revealing small batarangs and other supplies. He gathered them and waited. He would leave once they knocked. When they showed any sign that they were going to come in, that he had lured them there, he would leave through the window and head to the other side of the grounds.

Except the knocking never came. No shadows under the door or almost silent footsteps. The closest they came were distant mutterings that Tim couldn’t decipher.

So Tim sat there, staring at the door, clutching a batarang to his chest and he did his best to crowd himself between the toilet and the wall, where he would be hidden from view if someone picked the lock and opened the door.

Nobody did though. Nobody came. For hours, Tim sat there, waiting for somebody to come and drag him out. To pull him back to his room or chase him out of the manor. He didn’t care. Anything was better than this bathroom that reeked of Alfred’s favorite lemon-scented Lysol.

Then, someone was shaking him. Not hard, a soft back and forth. Like a parent waking their child for school. Or more fitting, Mrs. Mac waking him up for school.

Tim jerks awaken, swiping the batarang out on instinct and accidentally slamming his elbow into the toilet.

Standing in front of him was Jason, clutching his now bleeding cheek. “Dude what the fuck.”

“Sorry,” Tim squeaked out. He was cornered. Stuck between the wall and the toilet he had fallen asleep, like an idiot. Not only that but he just hurt Jason, cut his face up with a batarang. He was screwed.

Except Jason didn’t look mad, he looked worried. “It’s whatever. Alfie can stitch it up I guess.” He got to his feet and opened the cabinets above the toilet, pulling out a hand towel and pressing it to his cheek. “Bruce said we weren’t supposed to bother you. That you’d come out when you were ready.’ Jason screwed his face up. It was a face he remembered Robin making when he followed the pair around. It meant Jason thought Bruce was being stupid. Now was not the time to be nostalgic about a man who tried to kill him.

“But it’s been like ten hours and I think that’s really pushing it on a bathroom break, y’know?” Jason smiled at his own joke. It was Robin’s smile. A smile meant for victims and scared little kids. Not Tim. Never Tim.

“Anyway, are you okay?” He said, looking down at Tim.

Tim, for his part, was still wrapping his head around the situation. He’d been asleep for ten hours. Jason woke him up from that sleep and Tim cut him. Jason barely even reacted to it. Now he was asking Tim if he was okay? Maybe the whole “different universe” was more different than he thought.

“I’m fine.”

Jason gave him a look that said “Bullshit” but didn’t say anything. Instead, he held out a hand but when Tim didn’t get up fast enough he reached down and dragged him out of his hidey hole. “You didn’t get to eat much at dinner before all that shit went down.” For a second Tim considered fighting off Jason and going back to running, except even after ten hours of sleep he was still so tired. Like bone-deep tired. And he was hungry. “My room is exactly the same as I remember which is creepy as hell but useful.” Jason glosses over the room thing but Tim can feel it in his grip and how stiff his shoulders. It definitely bothers him.

Right beside Tim’s room is Jason’s. Where Tim had expected to be dragged to his own room he was instead pulled into this other boy’s. It was still a bit dusty, which was probably driving Alfred up a wall and would be fixed soon.

Jason didn’t seem to care though. He dropped Tim’s arm and squatted in front of his bed, reaching underneath. Then he pulled out a whole wooden pallet full of snacks.

“This stuff should mostly be fine. I’d go with the granola bars though. Safe bet.” He looked up at Tim with a big smile. Bigger than he had ever seen on the Jason from his own world.

Tim sat down next to him and grabbed a box of granola bars, ripped open one, and took a bite. The taste wasn’t great but it helped his stomach. And Jason looked happy. Not a trace of the anger he was so familiar with. “Thanks.”

They ate in silence, both staring at the wall, not sure what to say. It wasn’t tense though, which was more unsettling for Tim. He knew how to handle tension. Or at least he used to. His recent performance in the dining room wasn’t a shining example.

“I scared you,” Jason finally said.

“Surprised me.”

“I scared you,” He said, this time with more force. Yet it didn’t startle Tim because he could tell it wasn’t directed at him. Jason’s anger was at himself. He glared down at his lap like he was trying to set himself on fire.

“Startled. How about that,” Tim offered as a compromise.

Jason didn’t say anything for a moment. He just glared at the wall, and then the window, and then his fists. Basically, he glared at everything he could see. It would be funny if it wasn’t slowly putting Tim on edge the longer it lasted.

“We don’t have a very good relationship in your world, do we?”

Tim didn’t know what to say to that. What was he supposed to say that would get rid of the exhaustion and disappointment that laced Jason’s words? Tim just shook his head.

Jason buried his head in his hands and took a deep breath, held it then let it out. A basic breathing exercise that Tim himself had instructed thousands of people to do during his time as Robin. The fact that Jason needed to do breathing exercises right now was a bit concerning so Tim inched away from him.
“Bruce wanted to talk with you after you got out,” Jason said. “Though he’ll probably yell at me for busting in there.” He didn’t seem too bothered by it as he got up and walked out. Tim would be jumping out of his skin if he had to do this report to Batman. This world was just weird.

So, Tim sat there in silence, munching on slightly stale peanut butter and chocolate granola bars, while he waited for this weird Bruce to show up and probably lecture him about attacking his family. Or worse, try to lecture him about how it’s just more proof that he can’t go home yet.

Just over thirty minutes later a knock came at the door. “Tim?” Bruce said like Tim wasn’t fully visible from the door. “Can I come in?” He said when Tim didn’t reply.

“It’s your house.” Okay, not a great way to start this conversation. Good going, Tim. Maybe try to dial back the attitude.

Bruce hesitated at the door, then walked in. He kept his eyes down, avoiding looking at all the Jason’s decorations. Once he was seated on the bed he said “I apologize about Jason. He was supposed to give you time to come out on your own.”

Tim shrugged. “It was ten hours. That’s a lot of time.” He still wanted to kick himself for that one. A waste of a perfectly good escape opportunity.

“He said you were sleeping.”

“Fighting takes a lot out of a guy. Who knew?”

Tim was having an out-of-body experience. It had been years since he talked to Bruce like this. It reminded him of his days as Robin. When any amount of sass wouldn’t cause someone on coms to flip their shit. When his Bruce would just shake his head in affection before grappling to the next rooftop.

“Are you happy here?” Bruce said out of the blue. At least he cringed at his own wording.

Tim did his best to hold back his snort. He really did. But it wasn’t enough. His snort was very loud and very rude. Might as well go all the way. “You kidnapped me. No, I am not happy here.”

Bruce took a second, probably trying to find a better way to say whatever it was he wanted to say before. Which shouldn’t be hard because that way sucked. “I talked to Dinah.” He says it like Tim should know what that means. When he doesn’t Bruce continues. “She thinks that this environment isn't conducive to healing you. That there are too many stressors.” Bruce’s face was all scrunched up so he clearly didn’t like that.

“Why would you talk to Dinah?” Tim blurts out. He can imagine that insight from Alfred or Superman, but Black Canary? The singer superhero all-around awesome lady?

Bruce hummed like some puzzle piece finally fit into place. “She is a therapist in this world.”

Tim nods. It’s a weird thought, but not as weird as this strangely human Batman. He turns to look at the man. “So?” A bit of hope blossomed in Tim’s chest. If a therapist is saying he needs to go home to heal then he should be free. “I can go, right?”

Bruce cringes, and that small bit of hope shrivels up and dies. “I’m sorry Tim, I still can’t let you go back. Not yet. Dinah agrees with me that your home world is not a place that you can survive in right now, but she also says you can’t heal at the manor.”

Tim’s usual response isn’t freeze. Fight or flight have been trained into him. Freezing is not an option. But right now he’s freezing because the only other thing he wants to do is scream. Scream and cry and beat at the bed behind him like a child until they finally let him go home. Away from this stupid world where Bruce was acting like a decent guy and Jason asked if he was okay instead of trying to kill him. Where even Damian seems like he only came from the 8th circle of hell instead of the 9th. Where Bart, his best friend Bart is alive and happy with new people. People that aren’t Tim. Where, from all he can tell, his friend hasn’t even tried to return.

“Where am I going.” That is all Tim can muster. It’s robotic. Eerie to his own ears.

“Dinah thinks it would be best if you stayed at the mountain. With the Team.”

Notes:

Sorry to everyone who wanted immediate batfam stuff. That is going to take a backseat to team stuff because I love the team and need Kon around cuz this is a TimKon fic. The batfam will still be around though I promise!

All of your comments and kudos are appreciated! They are what keep me going! As I said feel free to ask for updates and try to rush me. I love all comments (That aren't hate comments) so I know that asking for updates is just love <3

A little life update because wow it's been a while

I finished my first novel and am now editing it and preparing to query literary agents.
My GPA is finally recovering from my crap start at college.
Mainly I wrote a lot for that novel. Hopefully this time next year I am a published author of a nice young adult gay romance book!

Chapter 10: Conner is not Amused™

Summary:

Tim gets set up at the mountain, the team is suspicious of him and the bats don't want to see him go, they watch Voltron off-screen, and Tim gets interrogated.

Tim ate dinner in his room that night. He’d expected Bruce to toss him into the zeta the second he was finished with their talk but instead, he’d left the room, leaving Tim alone with his thoughts. Which Tim would have said was very rude, Tim’s thoughts were not a nice thing to be alone with, but if his other option was this weirdly nice Bruce then he’d take the thoughts, thank you very much.

Jason stopped by with Tim’s dinner and even acted as a poison tester when Tim didn’t immediately start chowing down. He ranted about Alfred’s cooking like Tim wasn’t intimately aware of just how good of a cook he was. He wasn’t very happy when Tim pointed this out.

“Just because you had your own Alfred doesn’t mean you’ve had real Alfred Pennyworth cooking,” Jason said, shoving the spoon in Tim’s face. His first instinct was to whip his hand up and slap it away before it started scooping his eyes out. He stopped himself with only a flinch, but that was enough for Jason to calm himself. Tim watched as he calmed himself, deep breaths one after the other until he plopped down on the floor and leaned back.

“It’s not had, it’s have. I have my own Alfred.” Sure, Tim could acknowledge the flinch, or he could push all the awkwardness onto Jason’s rude comment. “And it’s not like he’s something to own. He’s a person.”

Jason glared at Tim but it was nothing like the glare he was used to. It was something he’d only seen in pictures on the batcomputer. Pictures that Bruce had hidden behind twenty different passwords. When Bruce caught him looking at them he put them on an external hard drive and hid them.

“Of course, Alfie is a person. You know what I meant.” Jason pouted and scooped another spoonful of the soup into his mouth.

Tim watched him eat. It was disconcerting. Peaceful meals were few and far between in his home and they were nonexistent if someone else wasn’t there to keep the peace, usually Alfred, or sometimes the Titan of the week that Dick or Jason would be dating.

“You know that’s for me right?”

Jason looked up and raised a judgemental eyebrow. “It’s not like you’re eating it.”

Tim squinted then reached out and grabbed the bowl, tugging it out of Jason’s grasp. The other boy still managed to get one last spoonful. Tim then snatched the spoon out of his mouth and wiped it off with a napkin. For a second he thought about making Jason get him another one but then his stomach rumbled and well, he’d lived through sharing food with Bart.

They chatted some more while Tim finished what was left of the soup. Jason promised to bring someone else up but Tim waved him off. This was more than he was used to.

After Tim brushed off his attempts to get the kid to eat more, Jason got up and went to leave, but stopped in the doorway. “Do you think you’ll be okay at the mountain?” Jason asked. He sounded worried, which at this point was only mildly surprising to Tim. That in itself was something he was proud of, he was really rolling with the punches.

“I’ll be fine,” Tim said. He was even extra generous and did his best to throw on a reassuring smile. So what if it just so happened to be a completely fake thing he learned as Robin… Okay, it may have briefly slipped his mind that even though this Jason was not all snarly and snapping at him like a dog with rabies, he was still Robin. A really stupid mistake in hindsight. Now Jason was squinting at him like he didn’t believe a word out of Tim’s mouth. Whoops.

Jason sighed and shook his head. Tim wasn’t sure why but he definitely felt insulted. “The team is pretty nice. They’ll probably forgive you for the whole attack thing eventually.”

Yeah, Tim hoped so. Going from the Manor, being surrounded by Jason and Damian and all the other bad memories at all times, and then going to the mountain just to have everyone pissed at him 24/7. Wouldn’t that be a bitch. And then Tim thought about his luck. Oh god.

“I’ll be fine.” Which was true. He’d spent nearly his entire life living with someone mad at him.

Jason looked him up and down one more time with suspicious eyes but then turned and left. Once he heard the click of the door Tim slammed his head back against the mattress. Getting to sleep that night was an unpleasant task, even more than usual. His one comfort was Bart. at least Bart would be there.

With that in mind, Tim did his best to get a little sleep before tomorrow.

The hum of the Zeta Tube filled the bat cave. Dick had gone ahead to do his best at preparing the team for Tim’s arrival. Judging by the not-so-kind opinions he’d heard while spying on the team to prepare his escape attempt, Tim wasn’t expecting much. Dick abandoned them and now he was coming back with guy who just infiltrated their base? Yeah, there was no way this was going to be a happy event, no matter what charms Dick threw out at them to smooth the way.

A hand on Tim’s shoulder made him jump. It was Bruce. His first instinct was to duck and step away. Bruce and him touching wasn’t the best recently and he wasn’t eager to have another bruise. But the grip wasn’t nearly as hard as he expected. Firm, yes, but more reassuring than dominating. Right, different Bruce.

Tim sighed. This was why he was being moved to the mountain. Because he couldn’t separate anyone in this house yet. Even Jason, who felt so wildly different than the Jason he knew. Every few minutes he’d forget the difference. He’d see the boy out of the corner of his eye and for a split second his heart ram against his ribs. He could never relax.

Dick came back through the zeta, rubbing the back of his neck. He had a sheepish grin on his face and Tim knew his fate was sealed. Any Dick in any universe would have been bouncing out of that portal if he were successful. This was Breaking Bad News Dick.

“That bad?” He asked.

“Bart is pretty happy.” Wow. It must be worse than he thought if Dick wasn’t even going to try to lie.

“They’ll get over it. It’s not like you’re the first villain to join the team,” Jason was the most relaxed out of everyone. Like he really believed what he was saying.

“He’s not a villain,” Dick whined. Tim knew that whine. He’d heard it thousands of times, and probably copied it just as many. Dick must have had that same argument on the other side. An argument he’d handily lost.

“And I’m not joining the team.” That was the important part. Tim didn’t care if some random heroes in some random universe thought he was a villain as long as they let him go home. Well, here goes nothing.

Tim stepped away from the group and toward the zeta. Dick rushed ahead of him just in time to be snagged first. He was clearly worried about Tim’s reception. And since he was going to be living here for the foreseeable future, Tim couldn’t help but share the sentiment. Just a bit. Not that he’d ever admit it.

The golden light of the zetatube swallowed him up and before Tim even opened his eyes he knew he’d made it. Every time he stepped into one of these tubes a small childish part of his brain hoped that he’d open his eyes and be home. But he’d fought blindfolded enough to feel when someone’s eyes were on him, especially if they weren’t friendly. And now there were lots of eyes, very few of them friendly.

When he opened his eyes he was met with a whole lineup of displeased heroes. For a second his eyes caught on their Superboy but he quickly moved past. Aqualad, Miss Martian, Superboy, Tigress, Beastboy, Static, Bumblebee, heck even Mal had shown up. None of them looked exactly friendly. In front of them all stood Dinah, a perfectly pleasant smile on her face, betraying nothing.

“Red Robin, thank you for coming,” Dinah said, stepping forward and holding out a hand.

Tim shook her hand and smiled. “Not like I had much of a choice.”

Dinah glanced over Tim’s shoulder and raised an eyebrow, probably at Bruce. Behind her, a few of the team mumbled not nice things under their breath. It was times like this that Tim appreciated his completely human senses.

“You’re not a prisoner here Red Robin. If you want to stay with Batman that’s perfectly fine.”

“Just call me Tim,” he sighed. No point in hiding his identity if he didn’t even exist in the first place.

Dinah smiled, “Okay, Tim. Do you want to stay with Batman?”

Tim had to stop himself from biting his lip. He settled for biting his tongue. That sounded horrible. Even with the team lined up in front of him, nearly all of them giving their best glare, the ones that kept the hairs on his neck standing were the ones behind me. Dick, Bruce, and Barbara.

“No.”

“Then for now, you’ve got a place here,” she said, swinging an arm out like she was showcasing a piece at an art gallery. The mountain was no gallery but it would do. A cardboard box would do at this point.

That was when Kaldur stepped forward. “We have a few rooms open that you may choose between. I can give you a tour if you’d like.”

“I think he’s had his tour,” Superboy grumbled.

“I could always use a refresher,” Tim smirked. This grumpy form of Kon threw him off balance. It was like when they had first met, but without all of Kon’s original bravado and charism.

Conner said something under his breath and Tim ignored it. If all he got was a few grumbling insults after he infiltrated their base and attacked them then he’d consider himself lucky.

“Follow me then,” Kaldur said, glancing back at Tim before heading down one of the hallways. He didn’t really need the refresher. Even if he hadn’t taken the time to memorize the layout before his mission, the mountain wasn’t so different from his own. There were a few more rooms than in his universe, probably because the team was so much bigger, but other than that it was nearly identical.

Kaldur gave a less than enthusiastic explanation of the rooms as they passed. A few of the team members who hadn’t fought Tim went on to do their own thing, but the rest followed, the bats right on their heels.

The only thing Tim was really enjoying at this point was Bart’s very generous running commentary.

“This the training room,” Kaldur said when the doors slid open. That was about as descriptive as he’d been for any of the rooms so far. He was clearly a bit salty about being tricked so Tim could forgive him.

“It’s not as nice as the tower’s room. Definitely not as high-tech. But it’s still pretty nice,” Bart said, earning more groaning and grumbling from the gathered team that was following. Unlike Tim, they were not very appreciative of their mountain being torn apart by Bart’s not-so-generous comparisons.

Tim followed Kaldur around on autopilot as they continued the tour. He noticed a few more of the team trickle off as time went on, and then they came to a stop. “And here are the rooms. Every member gets their own room, though the larger rooms tend to be saved for the more permanent residents. You can choose-”

Bart interrupted Kaldur, rushing past him and to a door down the hall. “This is your room!” He yelled.

“How long have you had this picked out?” Tim asked, slightly amused. Bart was bouncing on his soles, flicking between Tim’s sides, nudging him toward the room.

“It’s right by my room, and Conner’s room is right across from us! So it’ll be just like at the tower!” Bart looked incredibly proud of this achievement, and Tim was under no delusions that this was an achievement. Tim knew there were more separate rooms that they probably wanted to keep him in. Rooms that, while comfortable, were basically holding cells with some accommodations.

Tim turned and raised an eyebrow at Superboy. “You okay with this?”

Bruce spoke up before Conner could, voice firm. “It’s been agreed that the best way for you to settle in and integrate will be to have you close with someone you are familiar with. The team is willing to adapt to that.”

Conner frowned, but didn’t say anything. Fine by Tim. He had something to say. Something that apparently saying 50 times already hadn’t been enough. “There will be no settling in. No integrating. Once I find a way to go back, I’m out.”

Bart whined and slumped dramatically against Tim’s back. “Come on. This universe is nice! Even if it’s a little underdeveloped. You should stay. Just for a bit.”

“You’re from the future, Bart. Everything is underdeveloped to you,” Tim said over his shoulder.

Before the conversation could continue, Dinah and Bruce’s wrists beeped. A Justice League mission. The two looked at each other then Dinah spoke up. “We’ll leave you guys to get set up. Try not to kill each other while I’m gone. I’ll be back for training as usual tomorrow.”

Bruce glanced back just as they were leaving and Tim just squinted at him. This was his fault, he didn’t get to be concerned about the stupid predicament he caused.

Once they were gone, Dick and Barbara soon followed. The team didn’t know about Jason and Damian yet, Batman had decided that the surprise of Tim moving in was enough for one day. Dick said he had some things to take care of at home but Tim had a feeling he was more interested in avoiding the mountain and the team than he was in catching up with his siblings. Still, he got Barbara to leave with him so Tim was a bit grateful.

Still, without Bruce and Dinah guiding the conversation, the whole group fell into an awkward silence. Tim was used to silence in his world but, judging by the squirming and glances, the team was not. So he threw them a bone.

He turned to Bart, steeled himself for what was to come, and asked, “Any media discrepancies?”

Bart’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Tim knew it would. It had been forever since they’d been sent to a different dimension that was similar enough to do this. Playing video games and watching movies to see the differences. And if Tim knew Bart, which he did, then ever since he’d crossed over he had been memorizing every difference he could find.

“Oh you’re gonna love this!” He yelled before sweeping Tim up into a princess carry and shooting into the game room. Behind him, there were a few startled yelps, even some yelled complaints from the faster members of the team.

It took an hour before things finally settled down.

They were now checking for discrepancies in the Fast and the Furious franchise. Most of the team's members had wandered out by then but there were still a few stragglers. Particularly Gar and Cassie. Oh, and Conner. Though he was less participating in spot the difference and more looming menacingly near the doorway.

“Soooo…” Gar said as Voltron season 1 came to a close. It was nearly identical to the one in his own universe except for some reason the bonding moment kept getting brought up.

“Soooooo,” Gar repeated again, this time leaning closer to Tim.

“So?” Tim finally asked.

“What am I like in your universe.”

He knew this was coming but he kind of expected it to take longer. Which now that he thought about it was stupid. Even he would ask eventually if he were in this situation, and he had a lot more self-control than the average teenage hero.

Tim looked at him, up and down, then sighed. “Well, you’re older for one.”

Gar hummed, then leaned back. “How much older? Like Nightwing old? Batman old? Or like Red Tornado old? Cause I’m good looking but I don’t think even I could make a hundred look good.”

“You’re a little younger than Nightwing in our universe.”

For a second the two continued to be amused, but then they glanced at each other and sobered up a bit. Great. Tim was finally getting relaxed. Still, even this was better than the manor. Which was seriously not helping his whole argument. If even he could feel his shoulders loosening the longer he stayed here then it was probably clear as day to the others.

“Do I lead a team? I asked Bart when he first came to the past but he never actually answered me! He just said-”

“Spoilers,” Tim interrupted. That made Bart snort, coke shooting out of his nose, which caused Cassie to laugh. Gar stared at him, face twisted in betrayal.

“Why can we never get any cool time travelers. It’s always spoilers this and spoilers that,” he groaned, sinking into the couch.’

That’s when Cassie spoke up, “He’s not a time traveler. He’s a dimension hopper.”

“And his dimension is in the future,” Gar explained, like he was talking to a toddler.

Cassie sighed. “What I’m getting at is that the future stuff isn’t as important as the past. I mean, Batman says you’re trustworthy, right? But how are we supposed to believe that when you just rush into our base and start throwing drugging people and attacking us?”

It was as if each word was sucking the air out of the room. Gar looked distinctly uncomfortable, and Tim could tell that Bart wanted to jump to his defense. The only one who seemed to actually enjoy the change in topic was Conner.

Tim had hoped to put this conversation off until there were more members around, especially the older ones, but dancing around it would probably do more harm than good. He didn’t need to like staying here but he also didn’t need the team hampering his attempts to get home because they were too suspicious of him.

“I’m sure you’ve figured out that I was Robin in my universe,” Tim started.

Before he could continue though, Gar interrupted. “So does that mean there’s no Nightwing? Or are you the second Robin in your dimension? Is there a third?!”

Cassie stretched out one of her legs and kicked him, shutting him up. “So,” she squinted, like he was focusing on something far in the distance. “Look, I know that Robin is supposed to be this awe-inspiring name which automatically means you’re going to fit right in with the team and we should totally trust you with our lives but…” She glanced at Conner. “The last Robin wasn’t really with us long, and Nightwing hasn’t exactly been around either. Honestly I’d trust you more if you came in here saying you were Batgirl.”

Tim hummed. He got what she meant. There was a giant Robin-shaped hole in their roster, one Tim suspected he usually filled. But this universe didn’t have a Tim. “Well, Bart can vouch for me.”

Conner snorted, pulling everyone’s attention.

“You got something you wanna say? Or do you just want to keep brooding.” Tim could see the irony, but if anyone knew brooding it was a bat. It was basically his fundamental right to call it out.

Conner squinted at him them. Then, he pushed off the doorframe, walked over to the group, and came to a stop in front of Tim. He was looming. Clearly trying to be intimidating, which Tim had a hard time indulging. Maybe if he had laser vision it’d be more serious. “I’m just not sure that we can really trust the word of a guy who lied about being from our dimension this entire time.”

“Hey!” Bart shouted, indignant.

Tim placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent signal. He could handle this. “I don’t know what you want us to say. Bart and I were on a team called Young Just us, which we started with the Kon of our world. We were heroes with a lot of the members of this team, including both Gar and Cassie. Hell, you were even the leader at some points!” He said, looking over to Cassie at the end. So what if he let some spoilers slip? Things were going to get tricky with dimensions either way, at least now he could use it to build some trust.

“Young Justice,” Gar muttered as he mulled over the name, which made Bart twitch. Tim knew Bart still had a hang-up about the name and wanted to correct him but he just squeezed his shoulder. No getting off-topic just yet.

“Now, if I could I’d just hop back over to our universe and I’d be out of your hair. But, as I think was made clear by Batman’s whole growly thing. I’m grounded from dimensional travel. No strange alien tech for me.”

Conner’s jaw tensed, and for a second Tim thought he’d have to dodge a punch. It really reminded him of the first few days with Young Justice. He absently wondered if this Conner would end up anything like his own. Well, hopefully he’d be significantly more alive.

Tim took a deep breath. Not the time, Tim. Not the time.

“Well,” he started, getting to his feet. This world’s Conner was taller than his, which meant that he was a little more than half a head taller than Tim. Though “This has been fun, but I’m getting tired. And I wanna get settled into my new permanent room before I need to hit the hay.” He made sure to emphasize permanent.

“Aww, come on,” Gar whined. “We were just getting to the good parts!”

Tim huffed out a small laugh, a smile tugging at his lips. “Interrogation really takes it out of a guy. Who woulda guessed.”

Gar jumped up from his seat, clearly trying to not so subtly block Tim in. Or maybe herd him back onto the couch. “Come on, I promise not to ask anything else. Conner too!” Then he kicked Conner, “Promise,” he hissed.

The older boy just kept glaring at Tim, who smiled right back at him. This really wasn’t like the manor. If it were Jason glaring at him like that he’d probably flip again. But this was just nostalgic. A nice throwback to when he was just settling in with the best people in his life.

A pang seeped through Tim’s chest, a familiar pain. One he’d long since gotten used to suppressing.

“Seriously, I think I’m gonna call it a night. We can continue tomorrow, or when more of the team is here,” he said. Then, to play up how tired he was, he forced out a yawn. Judging by the twitch of Conner’s eye, he could tell it was fake. “Not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon.”

With that, he pushed past Gar and headed down the familiar halls until he found his room. A part of him wanted to go searching on his own. Find every little difference between this mountain and his own. But he wasn’t stupid. If they found him snooping around he’d be thrown in a cell quicker than Bart could say no to sushi. And he’d meant the whole trust thing. The villain route hadn’t worked so now he was just going to be the pampered prisoner. At least until he could get his hands on that tech.

Still, it wasn’t until the door locked behind him, and he’d checked the entire room for hidden cameras, that he finally relaxed. He hadn’t been lying about that either. He was exhausted. With a loud groan, he threw himself onto the big queen bed. Where it took him hours to fall asleep at the mansion unless medicated, here It didn’t take long until he was knocked out, snoring softly into the pillow.

Notes:

Hey...Hey... How y'all doing...

So yeah. This fic is not forgotten. My novel didn't get picked up by an agent which sent me into not writing for... a very long time. I am still pretty depressed but I'm gonna graduate soon so I don't have time to be depressed. Hopefully these little gay boys cure me.

Y'alls comments were really helpful and are honestly the only reason I even churned this out after so long. Even if it's just saying that you liked it are that you want me to update, I really appreciate it.

Also, this thing is entirely unedited so if you see errors feel free to nicely point them out. Again though, any comment is appreciated, whether it be just saying you enjoyed this or having discussions. I love reading y'alls comments so much <3

Chapter 11: Operation Friendly No Fire

Summary:

Time passes and Tim gets settled into the Mountain. The founders are warming up to him, not Conner though, never him. And Tim has finally decided to make friends, even if he stinks at it.

Tim hated to admit it, and he’d never say it to anyone because it was bad enough in his head, but living in the mountain wasn’t so bad. It kind of reminded him of when he’d stay at the tower. Except that most of the team would barely talk to him. And the glances when they didn’t think he would notice. Those were annoying, but at least calming down.

He wasn’t the only one settling in. Sure, M’gann and Conner still weren’t exactly happy to have him there. But Gar was warming up to him. And Bart was ecstatic.

The rest of the group of young heroes that rotated through the base weren’t too bad either. Generally, if they weren’t a founding member, then they warmed up to Tim eventually. Other than Mal, who still rubbed where Tim had injected him every time they were in the same room. Oh, and La’gaan, who as far as Tim could tell was just agreeing with M’gann.

The worst part of Tim’s new environment was honestly the boredom. It took a whole week for Batman to get him access to a computer, and any that Bart took for him were confiscated by Conner not long after Tim got them.

After a few days Tim just gave up. Bruce would get him a laptop at some point or he’d never hear the end of it. And it wasn’t like he could do anything more than he already had. Hacking into the league servers wasn’t going to yield any more information. Anything that could really help him was all physical, and all behind very strong doors.

So, Tim let himself settle. His Bruce would chastise him for it, but he’d been at the mountain for a month and the scheming wasn’t leading him anywhere. Which was how he got cornered by Tigress.

He was sitting alone in the game room, a place he’d only just gotten privileges to be alone in a week ago. Frankly, when they first told him he was allowed to be alone at all he’d kind of just blinked at them. Conner didn’t seem to agree with the decision but Kaldur said it was a waste of resources to have someone monitoring him all the time. So, as long as one hero was in the base, Tim could roam to whatever rooms they allowed him in.

“How’d the mission go?” Tim asked when she sat down, not next to him but close enough that he could tell she wanted to talk. And Tim was fine with that. It was rare to find a hero that was so…original. Usually when they were sent flying across dimensions there were just differences in identities, maybe names. But as far as Tim could tell, there wasn’t a matching hero in his own universe.

“You weren’t tracking?” Of all the founders she was the only one, besides Dick, who didn’t seem too bothered by him being here. Though she was definitely still keeping an eye on him.

“With what tracker,” Tim said, waving his controller around to the rest of the room. Sure, if he really tried he could probably make something rudimentary from all the gaming tech here, but it was still behind his own world, and even with that tech it wouldn’t be much use. Plus, Tim had no need or want to track the team while they infiltrated another meta human trafficking base.

Artemis smirked then settled back into the cushions. “Mission went well. The squad leaders should have their reports done in the next few days if you want to read over them.”

That made Tim snort. “I’m not sure everyone would be as on board with that idea as you are.”

“They’ll warm up to it,” she shrugged. “You’ve been here a month and haven’t done anything past stealing a laptop. You officially not a flight risk, and you’ve been alone with nearly every member of the team. Frankly, if not for that breakin, you’d probably be on a squad running missions by now.”

Tim glanced over at her then back to the TV, unpausing his game. “You really think they’ll let me read the reports?”

Sure, Tim didn’t want to track them, but meta human trafficking rings were something that plagued his own world, and if they were just popping up now he knew they’d only get worse. This may not be his dimension but that didn’t mean the itch to help some poor meta wasn’t there.

“Maybe not now. But if you tried to befriend them then maybe.” Ah, so thats why she was here. Tim knew her past with Wally, knew that she was struggling just as much as Dick, probably more, so he didn’t blame her for popping out the second a mission ended. Frankly, having one less person around was nice when he first got here.

“Dinah sent you,” he said. She was on a mission to get him to open up to someone other than Bart. She wanted him to befriend someone from this dimension. So far, Tim had not had much success. To be fair he wasn’t exactly trying.

He didn’t need friends, not when he was going back to his own universe as soon as possible… Except here he was, a month in this new universe and no progress back to his own. He was by no means giving up, but maybe… just maybe… it wouldn’t be too bad to get some friends. At the very least it would help kill the time.

“She says your therapy has stalled. Wanted to see if I could maybe coax something out.” Tim was like ninety-nine percent sure that that was illegal. Or at least bad therapist practices. But it’s not like Their therapy was conventional. For one, Tim didn’t have a choice. And for two, it basically just consisted of Dinah trying to coax out whatever Tim thought about his own universe. Ha, good luck with that.

“Why you? Wouldn’t it be better to ask Dick? Or Kaldur?” A smile tugged at his lips and he snorted. “Conner.” Artemis laughed at that final option. Everyone knew how Conner felt about Tim. While he wasn’t shouting it from rooftops, he wasn’t attempting to hide it either. All angry glares and muttered curses. If he had magic then Tim would be dead twenty times over. Or just laser eyes. Tim was very thankful for that dimensional discrepancy.

“I’m sure you know the orders. The bats haven’t been cleared to interact with you in anything but passing.” Yes, Tim did know that. It was in his file, someone he’d hacked with the little time he had before the stolen laptop was confiscated. On then hacked again the moment Bruce got him cleared for a new one. He had a problem, so what.

“Still doesn’t answer my question.” He turned his head and squinted at her. Artemis was good. Nothing ground breaking in terms of martial arts ability but she was good. Her real talents were her information gathering and usage. She was great undercover, and even better and utilizing whatever information she gained while there.

Artemis sighed and closed her eyes. “Dinah thinks that you might feel comfortable talking to a hero that you don’t have much personal attachment to. Or at least listen to my advice.”

Tim stilled, his hands tightening around the controller. “What makes you say we don’t have a personal attachment.”

She opened one eye and raised a brow. “You really think you’re that subtle?”

Tim gulped. He knew he was off balance. Dimensional travel tended to do that to a person. But he thought he was coping pretty well. Apart from the whole attack on the mountain thing he was his perfectly normal self, if not a bit aggravated at being kidnapped. And honestly the attack wasn’t even that out of character. He said as much, which again made Artemis laugh, though this time it was clearly at him and not with him.

“Yeah, you’re coping a lot better than I would honestly. But that not what I mean.” She lifted her head and leaned forward till her elbows rested on her knees, her chin in his hands. She was staring at him like he was a puzzle. But not a new one, not the way he stared at a case they’d just been handed. No, it was like when he was one step away from catching the guy. When there were just a few pieces left, and placing one would just domino the others in.

When she didn’t continue, Tim grit his teeth and asked. “Well,” he ground out, “what do you mean?”
“What I mean,” She drew out the mean dramatically as she got up from the couch. “Is that you aren’t as subtle with your past as you’d probably like to be.”

Tim gulped and took a breath. He needed to calm down. This was valuable information. He’d clearly let something slip. Just a month here and he’d let his guard down so much that he was slipping information without meaning to. God how untrained was he. “What does that mean,” he grit out.”

Artemis sighed. “You really think we can’t see the way you look at everyone? How easily you slot into conversation? It’s kind of creepy if I’m beind honest. I mean, Cassie’s warmed up to you just as fast as Gar, which is baffling. You talk to them like you’ve known them for years. Even the little bit I’ve seen you interact with M’gann.” She shook her head. “I’m just saying. It’s pretty clear, even if it’s not overt, you’re having trouble separating them from the people you know.”

Following that to its logical conclusion, Tim knew why Dinah had sent Artemis instead of anyone else. “And that’s not the case with you.”

“Nope,” she smirked. “If anything, you look at me like a cool science experiment.”

Tim buried his face in his hands and groaned, then threw himself back into the large couch cushions, sinking into them as far as he could. “Any other revelations you wanna give me? Or can I have a sec to process this?”

“Well, we could talk about how you look at Conner, and I could ask why you keep calling him Con, but I don’t think that’s a conversation you’re ready for.”

He hummed an affirmative. No thanks. It was hard enough that every time Conner growled or snapped at him it just reminded Tim of his old team. The way it sent a pang in his chest every time he saw Conner with Cassie. Or the rare few times he would set aside his anger toward Bart and talk to him too. Like he was watching his own team, so close yet so far from what he remembered. He didn’t need to actually Talk about it. God that sounded horrible.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I’ll leave you alone though.” She made to leave, but stopped at the door and turned. “For what it’s worth. It won’t hurt to make some friends. And who knows, maybe some friends could help you convince Bats to let you go home.”

Tim shot up straight and stared at her, jaw hanging open. How had he not thought of that? Then he grinned, a plan forming in his head for the first time in a month. He was so excited it almost hurt. He could kill two birds with one stone. Get Dinah off his back and start building a case on getting him home. Artemis was a genius.

---

Okay, maybe he should have seen this coming. It had been nearly a year since he actually made friends. Since he had started shutting himself in labs or shuffling across borders in search of assassin squads. The most social interaction he’d had before this little kidnapping was with Tam and the kids at Neon Knights. Neither of which really consisted of him making friends.

So maybe he was a little out of practice. He just didn’t think he was this out of practice. The first time he tried to initiate his plan was with Gar. It went decent. The guy had already been warming up to him so it wasn’t a challenge sit down on the couch next to him one day in the big living room. It was a bit harder to strike up a conversation though.

Small talk had never been Tim’s specialty. Outside of very rich settings that is. Even then, he usually had a very well-researched understanding of the person. Here, Tim’s research had all pretty much come down to, he cared about Conner and M’gann, loved being a hero, and was the typical teenage boy.

All of that research indicated one thing. Don’t be too serious. This wasn’t Artemis or Kaldur or even Dick. But that didn’t really hit him until he was already sitting in awkward silence with Gar, who was now glaring at the screen as he was chased through what Tim guessed was this universes COD zombies.

In hindsight, maybe asking about his family wasn’t the best option. In Tim’s defense though, Gar loved talking about the Doom Patrol in his universe. Since they weren’t really there in this universe, Tim just assumed he’d want to talk about Conner and M’gann with the same fervor, or at least his Mom.

Yeah, big no go. Instead, Tim just came off as digging for information. Which was not a horrible assumption since that was usually what he was doing. But he was kind of offended that Gar thought he was that unsubtle.

Subsequent attempts went about that well. It was very frustrating because if he zoomed out, it was like Tim was stepping back. When he didn’t care to be their friend they warmed up to him faster, but when he actually cared he couldn’t seem to get them to budge.

So far, he’d asked Cassie about being Diana’s protoge, which was apparently not going great because of some anger issues that were starting up. If Tim had to venture a guess it would be that things with Ares were starting up. He’d asked Virgil about how he was adjusting to his powers, which were apparently going on the fritz. He’d even somehow managed to make Jaime’s beetle mad when he started asking about it.

Frankly, Tim did not like this touchy feely universe. He was much more comfortable in the cold hard conversations of his own world. It was like the whole place was out to get him.

His breakthrough came in the form of an unlikely friend.

M’gann, in the week since Tim started trying to make friends, had finally warmed up to him a bit. He even got a smile one time. So, when he walked into the kitchen late one afternoon and found her surrounded by ingredients, he sat down at the counter. She was his next target.

“What are you making?” Tim said in lieu of a greeting.

M’gann bit at her thumb nail, ingredients floating around her, a wooden spoon stirring in a mixing bowl. “I’m trying to make some deep fried pork chops. Bart and Gar got them after the last mission and neither of them have shut out about it since.” She said, dipping her finger in what Tim guessed was mashed potatoes.

“Well, how’s it going?” Judging by the slight burnt smell of the kitchen Tim had a guess, but he was trying to be polite. He’d overheard M’gann struggle with cooking in the time since he’d been here, and he wasn’t inclined to insult another person.

M’gann frowned, and for a second Tim wanted to throw his hands in the air. No way he’d messed this up again. And with such an innocuous question. Instead, she glanced at him, a small smile on her face. “You’re fine,” she said.

Alarm bells rang in his head, and he slammed down every mental defense he knew.

All that only earned an exasperated huff from her. “You’re so dramatic,” she said, turning back to the pork chops she was now telepathically placing in the oil.

“Don’t read my mind,” he said. Or maybe growled. Either way, he wasn’t inclined to apologize.

“I didn’t read your mind. I just felt your emotions,” she glanced over at him. “They were very loud.”

Right. Mind reading wasn’t all she could do. He would need to do a better job of keeping his emotions under wraps.

As if she was actually reading his mind, which she knew he wasn’t because his defenses were all still up and there hadn’t been a trace of a mental attack, M’gann shook her head. “You need to stop getting in your own way.”

Cryptic. Great. He thought he got away from that when he left the manor. Young heroes were supposed to be brash and straightforward. “I don’t know what you mean.” Tim was doing everything BUT getting in his own way. He was basically rolling out the red carpet for any sort of change, any plan or connection. Whatever could get things moving forward.

Once the last pork chop was in the skillet, M’gann turned around. “That whole lockdown mode. You probably think it’s all in your head, all your bats do. But it’s not. It’s in your body language, the way you talk. Everything.”
“So what? I don’t see how protecting my mind is getting in my way,” he said, carefully keeping his voice calm and devoid of emotion.

M’gann sighed. “You can’t make friends if you shut down every time someone tries to reach out.”

Tim bit his lip. “I don’t shut down. And for your information, I’ve tried pretty fucking hard this past week.”

She smiled, then turned back to the food. She opened one of the overs and pulled out what Tim guessed was garlic roasted asparagus. They were a bit burnt, but not too bad. “Aww,” she whined. “I was so sure of it this time.”

“And it’s not like anyone is reaching out either. As far as I can tell I’m the one doing the reaching.” It was stupid, the way that this interaction was getting under his skin. Tim wanted to yell at her. Tell her she was delusional. That just because she could read someone’s mind didn’t mean she knew everything. But when she looked back up at him he sucked in a breath and kept his mouth shut.

“I know you’ve been trying,” she started, voice soft and placating. Tim was only mildly irritated that it was working. “But be honest with yourself. I’ve heard some of those conversations.”

“You mean the conversations where I ask people about their lives and then a minute later they act like I dragged the information out of them through torture?”

M’gann shook her head, a smile on her face. “That’s not the conversations I’ve heard. The ones I’ve heard are all people answering your questions, and then when they ask you questions it’s all ‘spoilers’ and ‘I can’t talk about that’. You can’t exactly build a friendship if one side shuts down the conversation every time he gets asked a question he doesn’t like.”

Tim sat there, cheeks flushed, as she finished up the dinner. He knew what it was for. The permanent residents usually sat down for dinner, but on Saturday nights the whole team showed up, at least the available ones. Tim hadn’t attended yet. Not even the normal dinners.

It was awkward. With so few permanent residents it was basically just a table where half the people didn’t like him. And he’d had enough of that in his own universe thank you very much.

Still, as M’gann floated the platters full of food into the dining room, Tim wanted to follow. It had been so long since he ate with a team. Not since Conner died. And even before then, their meals were tainted by Bart’s empty seat. It was a somber occasion, an attempt at rebuilding after the tragic loss. One that would disappear when the losses piled up.

Some time when lost in thought, his defenses must have fallen. Or maybe he just looked that pathetic. Either way, when she came back into the kitchen M’gann took one look at Tim then gave him a soft smile. “Do you want to join us?”

Tim worried his lip, then finally asked. “Will there be enough?” Which earned him a laugh.

“Who do you think has been cooking your meals all this time?”

A blush crept its way onto Tim’s cheeks but he ignored it and offered his help in carrying anything else to the table.

Together, they got everything set, and one by one heroes started to join in their civies. First was Bumblebee, Karen, who Tim rarely had only seen a few times. Apparently, she was caught up in a pretty intense internship. With her was Mal, who didn’t even try to hide his glare when he saw Tim.

M’gann must have said something to him because he looked at her, open-mouthed, then shook his head and took what Tim guessed was his usual seat.

Heroes filtered in, each having varying reactions to Tim’s presence. Most had gotten used to him by now, a rather neutral acknowledgment. But there was also Gar, Virgil, and Cassie, who seemed pleasantly surprised that he was joining them. Well, Gar had called it Crash, whatever that meant.

Bart was ecstatic. He’d been trying to get Tim to join them for dinner for weeks. He even kept an open chair the whole time, which made Tim blink in surprise when he found that out.

On the other hand, there was also Conner. Unlike Mal, who acquiesced to what M’gann said to him, Conner was not so inclined. Instead, it just meant he was glaring at both of them.

“This is insane,” he grumbled as he took his seat. Or at least he started to when he noticed that it was right next to the empty one set out for Tim. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Hope you don’t chew with your mouth open,” Tim grinned as he slid into his chair. Sure, he’d like to eat in peace, but a meal bothering the douche version of one of his best friends? That was okay too. And he wouldn’t even have to do too much. Apparently just his presence was enough to get the guys hackles up.

When Tim looked over at Bart beside him, he had a big proud smile on his face. He probably sat Tim on that side just so he could be by Conner. A small part of Tim wanted to knock Bart upside the head, but the rest agreed that it was funny. So his head could go unscathed for now.

“Well,’ M’gann said with a clap. “I hope you guys all enjoy the food. I tried really hard to copy what Bart and Gar talked about. I hope it isn’t too burnt.” She said the last part with a little blush.
Soft murmurs filled the room as everyone dished up their food. It was like a blast to the past. As if he had reenacted his time at the tower. Jaime and Gar argued over some game they were playing. Cassie and M’gann were talking about one of her classes, I guess she wasn’t doing great in the home-ec class they were forced to take. Bart and Virgil were even talking about their powers. Tim briefly noted that they were both on the fritz.

Conner and him were the only ones silent. It felt awkward, but not enough that he was going to talk to the guy. Instead, when Gar and Jaime’s conversation came to a lull, he interrupted them.

“You asked me about the team Bart and I started, right?” It was the conversation he’d shut out. The one where he shut down and blamed Gar when it didn’t lead to immediate friendship. Maybe M’gann was right. Maybe he was shooting himself in the foot.

The boy quickly chewed the big bite of food he’d taken and then nodded his head. “Uh, yeah,” he said, glancing around at the other heroes like he was asking for a lifeline. When none came he just said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want. I couldn’t get Bart to say much either.”

Tim glanced at the boy next to him. A shadow passed across his face, but it was quickly brushed away and replaced with a perfectly presentable smile. Tim had seen it enough that he decided he’d check in on Bart later. For now, he was going to make some headway in… making friends. God, he sounded pathetic. Even to himself.

“We were a lot like this team honestly. Though, we definitely had fewer people at one time.”

“We were like a rollercoaster. Get on, do crazy things, then get off and try not to spill your guts,” Bart said with a grin.

M’gann reached over and lightly swatted his hand, “Let’s keep the talk table appropriate.” She said, though she was laughing. “I don’t want to hear about throwing up while I’m eating, thank you very much.”

“You’re the one who said it, not me,” he said before digging back into his fifth pork chop.

“We had a pretty rotating roster,” Tim said, a small smile on his lips as he thought about all the people who had come and gone. Greta, Slobo, Anita, Cissie, Miguel.

“Why? You run them off?” Conner said, not looking up from his food.

Tim glared at him, then turned back to the rest of the team with an embarrassed smile. “We weren’t very league affiliated. A lot of people came to us to get away from that kind of authority. Once their business got solved or they just decided the hero world wasn’t for them, they stepped away.”

A second of silence fell over the table until Gar spoke up again. “So… what did you guys do? If you weren’t Justice League approved then it has to have been pretty crazy, right?”

Tim looked at Bart, who now had a big genuine grin splitting his face. And well, spoilers shmoilers. He was making friends, one way or the other. “Well, there was this baseball game.”

Notes:

It's a miracle! I know! I decided I'm not allowing myself to upload any other fic unless I also have a chapter of this to upload. That being said, I will be uploading the first chapter of my DCxDP fic soon.

As usual, I hope you guys enjoy! Feel free to comment I read them all even if I don't reply. Even just asking for an update or sending hearts is great! You are all great motivators <3

We are finally getting to the point where I feel it's okay to write Conner and Tim interacting more! And Tim is finally having friends! Kinda!

This is entirely unedited so feel free to kindly point out errors and I'll go back and change them.

Oh, also! I don't know why I included this originally, but Cassie is not dead in Tim's universe. I have fixed that.

Chapter 12: Conner is not an Asshole

Summary:

Conner doesn't like Tim being around. Then a big mission leaves the two alone.

“I don’t like this.” They were letting Tim supervise missions. What kind of idiots decided to let that happen? The Justice League of course. Who else would decide that the mysterious vigilante Batman kidnapped was totally trustworthy and the team should put their lives in his hands.

Tigress turned to look at Conner over her shoulder, unimpressed. “He’s not going to do anything. He can’t even touch the monitor. It’s all observation.”

Not that the Team was innocent either. They got a choice. Once the league came to their own verdict they left it up to the Team to decide when Tim could actually do it, if ever. And of course, everyone besides Conner and Batgirl said yes.

“He wasn’t even supposed to be in the cave the last time he messed with our mission,” Conner said, revving the supercycle before speeding off from the mountain.

It had been a while since the two of them went on a mission alone. With all the news members it was usually pretty easy to find a better pairing. But today was hectic, both personally and mission-wise, so for one reason or another, they were the only members on shift who could report.

“Mal is with him. Red Robin can’t surprise him this time.” Tigress didn’t sound nearly as worried as she should. None of them did. All it took was a little bit of buttering up and they were eating out of the guy's hand.

“Again, not like he had trouble last time.” Conner knew Mal was working extra hard at his training since Tim had knocked him out, but he just wasn’t ready for that. Sneak attack or not.

“You know they can hear you, right?”

Conner shrugged, it’s not like it’s anything he hasn’t said to Tim’s face. Right when he got outvoted he told the guy he didn’t trust him. The message was pretty clear. An explosion in the building they were supposed to be infiltrating cut the conversation short. Not that Conner planned to drop it.

---

“I don’t understand how y’all are okay with this,” Conner shouted as he grabbed the tail of a MONQI and bashed it into another one.

Beside him, Aquaman’s water hammers crushed the head of another robot before sending a wave of electrified water into a group of them. “He cannot prove that he is trustworthy from a cage.”

Conner wasn’t sure why he was saying this to Kaldur now. He was one of the people who originally campaigned for the reins on Tim to be loosened. Even all of Conner’s appeals hadn’t gotten through to him before the initial league meeting.

“He doesn’t need to prove that he’s trustworthy. He’s going home soon.”

Sure, Conner had been saying that for two months now, but it was true. Any day now Black Canary was going to come out of one of those therapy sessions with her head held high and proclaim that Tim was ready to go home. Then, after a tearful goodbye from a stupidly large section of the team, Conner would personally kick him into his own universe.

Kaldur sighed as he lifted an unconscious T.O. Morrow and hefted him over his shoulder. “We do not know when he will be ready to return home. For now, it will be best if he feels comfortable here.”

“Well, maybe he shouldn’t feel comfortable here. He clearly wants to get home. Maybe Batman is wrong.” He certainly didn’t seem as traumatized as Batman hinted. He was perfectly fine sparring with Conner, even when he not-so-accidentally got a bit rough. If anything Tim was lively. Annoyingly so.

“People are complex things. You may never know what someone is truly thinking under their exterior.” Kaldur turned to Conner and gave him a pointed look. “I thought you would understand that, my gruff friend.”

Conner scoffed. “That’s not the same. I was awake for just a few seconds when you guys met me. He’s been alive for…I don’t know but definitely long enough to not act like that.”

“He has been pleasant recently,” Kaldur pointed out. “Though I will cede that he does seem to enjoy getting on your nerves.”

They were getting off track. “My nerves aren’t the problem.” There were annoying guys on the team. La’gaan for example. He could deal with annoying guys. “I just don’t think it’s smart to trust him with our lives as some sort of bonding exercise!” Conner kicked one of the MONQI heads lying around, watched it soar into the sky, and listened to the satisfying crash as it landed in a field a few miles away.

Kaldur watched the head go flying then turned to Conner. “This isn’t a first step. He has been going over past mission reports with a few of the newer members of the team. Helping them train and cover not just their combat weaknesses but their field weaknesses. You know this.”

Conner did know this. He’d seen Tim’s strategy to infiltrate the team’s heart from a mile away. Conner wasn’t fooled. He watched all the training sessions. Watched as Tim jotted down each member’s weaknesses. Watched the analytical gaze of a bat tear apart the team members fighting styles until he got the hang of them. There wouldn’t be any mistakes like last time. When Red Robin sprung next he would tear through the team with practiced ease. Not on Conner’s watch though.

---

“I can’t believe you’re going along with this,” Conner said from his spot on Dick’s dingy couch.

Dick glared at him over his plate of microwave nachos. “I can’t cook. Don’t judge me,” he said, taking a bite out of a chip with a big glob of mostly melted shredded cheese on it. “Not all of us live with someone who cooks for fun.”

Conner stared at Dick in disbelief. If there was anything that proved how distant he’d been recently, it was that. Everyone else knew he was talking about Tim the second he opened his mouth, which Conner was only a bit annoyed about.

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about Bruce’s stray.” Conner sunk back into the worn cushions and glared at the TV. He’d barged into the man’s apartment because he wanted someone on his side. Nightwing was paranoid, and he’d been avoiding Tim more than anyone, even Barbara.

“He’s not a stray,” Dick said, a piece of a chip falling from his mouth. He’d met Alfred and if there was one thing he knew it was that the man had definitely taught him better than that.

“He got picked up off the street. I think that counts as a stray.” Or at least he was pretty sure he was taken off the street. Though, he wouldn’t put it past Bruce to kidnap someone from their house.

Dick washed down a bite with what Conner was pretty sure was a knock-off Dr. Pepper. “He just needs some help. If you actually gave him a chance you’d see he isn’t so bad.”

Conner scoffed. “Like you’d know. You’ve been avoiding the mountain ever since you got back.”

“One, M’gann told me how nice he is, and two, I’m not avoiding anything.” Dick wasn’t even lying well.

Conner knew whatever he’d done while he was gone was wearing on him. He’d been thin as bones when he first came back and he didn’t look much healthier now. Conner wanted to tell him to go back to Gotham, but he’d heard about the explosive fights between Dick and his dad the first time around. If Dick wanted to stick himself here in Bludhaven and rot then Conner could either drag his friend out by the ear.

“You could come stay at the cave if you like him so much.” It was a great idea. Two birds with one stone, pun not intended. Dick could help him keep an eye on Tim, because no matter how much he said it he clearly wasn’t sold on Tim staying at the mountain, and everyone else could keep an eye on Dick.

“Why doesn’t he just stay in Gotham? It doesn’t even have to be a containment cell.” Tim staying at the Manor would be the second best option. He’s out of Conner’s hair and away from the Team. Not that it stopped him from hurting them before.

A shadow passed over Dick’s face. He set his half-empty plate of nachos down on the rickety coffee table and then looked at Conner. He was serious now, like out on a mission serious.

“Dinah thinks that the mountain is a more conducive environment for his healing.”

Conner huffed a laugh. “You’re lying.” Sure, now people liked him. Basically everyone other than Conner if he was being honest. But that was two months into his stay. He’d spent weeks alone in his room before anyone other than Bart would be considered anything close to a friend.

“She was right,” Dick said, his voice small and tired. “He’s thriving there. At least compared to how he was at the manor.”

“And you’d know this how?” Conner could guess the cameras. But it was fun to force the bats to confront their stalkerish tendencies sometimes. “It’s not like you’ve actually talked to him. You escorted him through the zeta tube and then when M.I.A”

Dick glared at him then looked down. He knew that routine. Shame wasn’t anything new to the Team, especially its older members.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s not like he’s asked for you or anything.”

That made Dick laugh, though it was a bit too hollow for Conner’s tastes. “You should have seen him when he first got him.” Dick shook his head in disbelief. “I’m not talking totally different person kind of change, but I wasn’t sure he’d ever get as comfortable as he has.”

Conner snorted. “You call that comfortable?” Just a few days ago he’d seen Tim nearly jump out of his socks after Cassie laid him out during a spar. He’d had to sit out the rest of the day's training, sulking in his room. Conner didn’t think anyone could be as sore of a loser as Dick, but Tim was eager to prove him wrong.

Dick shook his head again. “Seriously, it’s like night and day. He couldn’t even sit through a conversation with any of us without grinding his teeth. I thought he was going to chip a tooth the first time we talked.”

“So he’s got some anxiety. Isn’t exposure therapy a thing? And y’all barely even gave it a chance.”

Dick bit his lip and glanced at Conner. Oh, he was hiding something. But he clearly wanted to tell him because if he really wanted to hide something he knew how to. Conner didn’t even need his supersenses to tell. “Something else happened.”

Conner regretted asking as soon as the words left his mouth. Dick wilted into his chair, running a hand across his face. He looked downright depressing.

“There was… a dinner.” Dick cringed at the memory which didn’t give Conner much hope of this being an overreaction. “We were talking and well, there was a fight-”

“You fought with Bruce? In front of the guy he’d just kidnapped.” Conner didn’t like Tim, sob story be damned, but he was starting to understand why he’d been shipped off to the mountain. Apparently the Waynes were just one big mess right now.

Dick blinked at Conner, then frowned. “Uh, yeah. B and I started arguing and it freaked Tim out. I’m not talking normal teen hero freakout either. The kid ran and locked himself in the bathroom for ten hours straight.”

“So he’s got some quirks. It’s not like dressing up as a Bat is a healthy coping mechanism.” Seriously, Tim should fit right in there.

“Come on, you know that’s not the same.” Dick stared up at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. Then he sighed and looked back at Conner. “When he was at the manor it was like he thought one wrong move and he’d be out on the streets, or that we’d hit him or something. Every time Bruce opened his mouth it was like he expected to get yelled at. The only time I’ve ever seen him relaxed is through that camera.”

Dick took a deep rattling breath. “Even when he was alone at the manor he’d check the windows and doors like he thought one of us was waiting there to jump out and attack him.”

Conner wasn’t sure what to say to that. Anyone with eyes knew the guy was fucked up. “So what, because he needs some therapy we should be letting him run around the mountain to do whatever he wants?”

“You could try, you know?” Dick said through grit teeth. “Everyone else gave him a chance and they seem to like him just fine.” Conner wanted to point out Barbara and La’gaan but he doubted those were very helpful examples.

“He’s an asshole.”

“Yeah well you’re not fucking Mother Teresa either,” he bit out.

Conner stood up and clenched his fists. “I’m not the one who broke into our base and drugged our teammates.”

Dick got up and threw his hands in the air. “Will you let that go?! Even Mal said he forgave him when Tim apologized. You’re the only one holding a grudge!” Dick’s shoulders slumped before Conner could respond. It was like someone cut his puppet strings. “Look… I know you don’t like him. And I’m not asking you to be his best friend or anything. But can you at least quit acting like he’s gonna kill you the second you take your eyes off him?”

Conner took a deep breath. He was so tired of everyone asking him to be nice. It’s not like Tim was trying very hard either. Every other person was getting this mask that Tim threw up. Conner saw the real him. The one who took every chance he got to insult him, embarrass him, or throw him under the bus.

“Fine,” Conner said because he could be the bigger person. “But you owe me.”

Dick smiled and waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. Get out of here, I’m already late for my patrol.”

---

The alarm rang through the mountain. An all hands on-deck call, which meant very very bad. Conner groaned as he got up, only just having managed to fall asleep. He threw on his T-shirt, jeans, and boots, then headed for the monitor room. When the door to his room slid open he was met with Tim.

“Bart ran ahead.”

Conner ignored him and started toward the meeting room. Tim shouldn’t even be up right now. It was the middle of the night and it’s not like he could join on this. “Mal’s still gone,” Conner said when they neared where everyone was gathered. Mal had been gone for two weeks, some sort of private training Black Canary had recommended for him. That meant nobody to watch Tim on the monitor.

Tim didn’t reply but he still stayed around. He even stood with the team when Batman handed out marching orders. It was infuriating.

“Same teams as last time. The League is busy taking care of the space invasion but we need you to destroy whatever it is that’s keeping their portal open on Earth.” Conner hated fighting aliens. They already had a bad enough reputation and every invasion just made it worse. Just another thing for G. Gordon Godfrey to spout his hate about.

“There’s tons of potential locations. You’re going to need someone at the monitor to coordinate narrowing all that down,” Tim said. No, Red Robin. That was definitely a Bat talking. Sometimes, when Conner let his annoyance get in the way of his brain, he’d forget the guy was actually experienced.

Conner also hated to admit it, but Red Robin was right. There were dozens of nodes, all of them a near equal potential for the portal’s control room. Still, he didn’t like the implication.

“Batgirl can stay behind,” Conner grunted. He was not about to let Tim have free access to their systems. Especially when everyone would be too occupied to even check up on him. A few people over, Barbara glared at Conner, clearly against the idea of being benched.

Batman frowned at Conner. He hadn’t said anything but Conner knew the man wasn’t pleased that he still didn’t trust Tim. “If this portal operates how Adam Strange believes it does then we need as many of our hackers out in the field as we can.” Then Batman looked at him, squinting, and Conner had been around the man enough to know he wouldn’t like what came next. “The battle has been contained to space, however, it would be a good idea not to leave our bases vulnerable. Having a hard hitter stay behind at the mountain will be smart.”

“What?” Conner said, dumbfounded.

A hand landed on his shoulder, pulling him from his shock. He turned to look at whoever it was, only to be greeted with the most annoying smirk Tim had ever given him. “I believe what Batman is saying is that you should stay behind. For the protection of the mountain of course.” Somehow his smirk got even more smarmy. “Though I guess this kills two birds, huh? Mountain stays protected and you get the pleasure of watching me while I man the monitor.”

Conner grit his teeth. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t supposed to be the one getting grounded. Actually, nobody was. If Conner had his way then Tim would be locked in a cell while they take care of this.

“I can stay too if you want,” Bart piped up.

Oh god, that would be hell. He certainly didn’t need Red Robin’s biggest fan talking his ear off the entire time. That was a sad thought. Conner actually liked Bart, just not when Tim was around. He’d never seen someone so obsessed with forcing a friendship before.
“I can handle it alone,” Conner grumbled.

“Everything else can be said over comms. Remember, we don’t have a lot of time. The longer the portal stays open the more the leaguers will get overwhelmed.” With an overdramatic swish of his cape, Batman stalked into the nearest zeta tube and disappeared.

When nobody moved, a few people still staring between Conner and Tim, Kaldur cleared his throat. “You have your assignments. Red Robin will distribute a list of locations to check once we are all in the air.”

The room broke out into a flurry of motion as everyone split up into their teams and headed out. Soon enough Conner was in his own personal hell. Not the lowest level but certainly a part of it.

“You can stay brooding back there, just don’t interrupt me,” Tim said as he walked past Conner, and took a seat at the monitor. “Team Beta your locations are…”

Conner glared at Tim as the man gave out orders. His skin itched to be out there. A tiny part of Conner said that this was his fault. If he just trusted Tim then he could be out there helping people. Not babysitting this man who clearly had it under control. But the rest of his just couldn’t do it. Not with how easily he navigated through the system. How easily he knew that it could be weaponized.

Tim could do so much damage if he wanted to. It wasn’t as bad when he first showed up. The system, while similar to what Tim used, was clearly not identical. There had been a lag in his understanding. It slowed him down just enough to get caught. But that lag was gone now. He swept across the computer like it was an extension of himself.

Twenty minutes passed, different teams called in, and the field was narrowed down, node after node found empty. It was nerve-wracking, and not just for Conner.

“Fuck,” Tim muttered under his breath as Alpha team called in their last node as a bust.

A crackly voice interrupted their thoughts. “Can we get an update on that portal?!” Green Lantern yelled, followed by an explosion and the roar of one of the aliens. He was clearly still in battle, and from his labored breathing, he wasn’t holding well. Conner had a sinking feeling that he wasn’t the only one.

“We need more time,” Tim growled.

“Kid, they outnumber us a hundred to one. We can’t give you much more time,” Hal yelled back. Then there was a crash and his comm cut out.

Tim slammed his fist down onto the keyboard. “Dammit!” he yelled. Conner stared at him. He’d never seen this much emotion from the guy, even when he was insulting Conner within an inch of his life.

“What's wrong.” He really hoped Tim understood that he didn’t give a shit about his emotional state, just what would cause this reaction. Because he wanted to be clear, he did not care about that.

Tim grit his teeth and took a deep breath. “Beta Team ruled out their last node,” he said.

Wait… “But that was the last one. They’ve checked every location.”

“Exactly,” Tim said, glaring up at the glowing screen.

Conner gulped, remembering the training session from M’gann. “So, what now?” They couldn’t stop looking. If they didn’t get the portal closed then everyone would be overrun by those aliens.

Tim bit his lip and then straightened in his chair. “This is where I get to work.” His voice was cold, firmly Red Robin. Without a word his fingers flew across the keyboard, windows opened on the screen and the map lit up in red dots.

“Are those all possible locations?” He recognized a handful of ones as ones that were previously on the map. “But we’ve already checked this?”

As Tim continued to type the dots began to disappear. “I’m narrowing it down again, but this time with different parameters.”

“What different parameters?” Batman himself had narrowed it down before. What could Red Robin possibly find?

“Well, first we’ve got to keep in mind that the ones we already looked at aren’t it. They were also the most obvious ones though, so that means they were probably a distraction set up by them.” More dots disappeared.

Conner squinted. “But how could they set up fakes? They only had a few agents on earth and that’s an operation that would take a lot more manpower and time.”

Tim grinned as more dots disappeared. “Exactly, more time and manpower means a bigger facility.”

“So, what? We just raid every big facility on the list? We don’t have that kind of time.”

“We narrow it down with energy output. Our last list was made with the idea that a small area with a high electricity drain was a likely candidate. But with these new parameters, they’re probably better at hiding than we thought.”

“Still not following,” Conner said, though that wasn’t completely true. Higher area meant it was easy to disguise big drains of power. But he didn’t know how Tim could use that to narrow it down.

Tim glanced at Conner, a big grin on his face. “There.” He pointed at the screen where only one red dot sat. “High energy drain over a large area with a massive increase four months ago.”

“Right when we think they started prepping the portal,” Conner said, amazed. Then he frowned. Fuck. “Nobody is close. They drew all our forces away from it.” He looked at Tim, expecting an order for their forces to head to the new node. But instead, Tim was staring at him with an expectant look. Maybe even disappointed.

“We’ve got one team close.”

Conner squinted at him and then the screen. Then it dawned on him. “Hell no,” he shouted.

“We’re the closest available team. It will take at least half an hour for the others to make it back here and if we don’t get that portal closed soon then our guys up there are screwed,” he said, pointing to the sky.

“I said no,” Conner growled. He’d gotten swept up in the thrill. He let his guard down and now Tim was starting his escape plan. “Let me guess. You snatched some kryptonite before you came here and once the mountain hanger opens you’re going to incapacitate me.”

Tim stared at him, mouth hanging open. He stared for so long that Conner blushed, almost embarrassed. Then, he sneered. “I get that you don’t trust me. But maybe don’t let the fact that you’re a distrusting asshole get in the way of saving the world.”

Conner clenched his fists, then turned and headed toward the door. “Oh, I’m the asshole? He’s the one who broke into our fucking base and attacked my friends and won’t stop fucking insulting me and…” he kept grumbling as he stomped out.

Notes:

Thanks for reading! I don't reply to all comments but I do read and love them all <3

I just started a DCxDP work but I promise this won't be neglected. I won't be updating that one unless i also have an update for this.

Chapter 13: Tim, Conner, and the Airduct of Friendship

Summary:

The team-up that nobody has asked for! Tim and Conner get close and Tim gets his ass beat. They don't speak about what happened.

Conner Kent was an asshole. Okay, maybe not an asshole. Tim had watched the guy interact with the rest of the team and things were fine. He even seemed nice sometimes. But it was like just seeing Tim put him in the worst mood possible. Tim was starting to understand the feeling.
“I don’t need superhearing to hear your complaining,” Tim said as he slipped on his gear. He was glad he’d decided to sneak in some extra orders for the nearest approximation of his own gear the last time he hacked into the monitor. He’d ask for forgiveness later.

“Just get on the damn bike,” Conner grumbled. He’d stopped complaining about having to take Tim but was not pissed that he had to put his precious motorcycle in danger. Unlike Sphere, this one had little chance of making it out unscathed.

Tim rolled his eyes then slid behind Conner on the bike and wrapped his hands around the other man’s waist. Dear Lord. Tim knew that Conner was thicker than Kon but it was a lot more evident like this. He could barely get his fingertips to touch, much less hold on. With a defeated sigh he just placed his hands on Conner’s stomach and hoped that he could be nice enough not to hit anything that would fling Tim off.

The ride was tense. They were not a particularly strong team and from what they could tell they were about to rush into the home base of these invaders. It was rare for Tim to feel weak, especially with a Superboy by his side.

But that was just another reminder of everything that Conner wasn’t. Conner didn’t give that cocky reassurance that Kon did. He didn’t have the glowing smile that said everything would work out as long as they were together. He wasn’t the boy that called Tim knew. The one he trusted.

A few minutes into the ride Tim’s wrist computer started buzzing. He carefully let go of Conner and reached up for his comm, transferring whoever it was up to his cowl. “Red Robin,” he answered.

“What is the progress on that control base?” Batman sounded haggard, the frustration and worry fraying the edges of his question. The Justice League was running out of time.

“The bases were decoys.” Tim tried to keep his anger back. Batman’s search wasn’t fully to blame. He probably would have fallen for the trap too. “Superboy and I are on our way to a new location I found. I’m forwarding the coordinates now.”

Instead of questioning Tim leaving the mountain Batman just asked, “ETA?”

That was something that Tim had missed. An easy confidence that he hadn’t been gifted with in a long time. The Team was great but they didn’t trust him as much as they seemed to believe. He’d seen the glances and slight frowns from a few of the others when Batman had said Tim would man the monitor.

That was something Tim appreciated about Conner and Babs. At least they didn’t try to hide their dissatisfaction.

Okay, well, that’s not true. Conner tried to hide it a bit, every once in a while, usually at M’gann’s telepathic insistence. But he was just so bad at it that Tim could see right through him. He was an open book of animosity.

Tim balanced himself on the seat and started typing on his wrist computer, shooting the coordinates off to all of the heroes they’d assembled for the mission. He definitely should have done that before leaving but he’d just gotten so caught up in the moment.

“We’ll be there in five minutes,” Conner said when Tim didn’t speak up. He then revved the bike and sped up.

If Tim had been ready for it then it wouldn’t have been a problem. He loved his bike and he was a certified pro at balancing, but he wasn’t holding on to anything when Conner hit the bump. He’d only just shot off the coordinates when he was almost thrown off the back of the motorcycle.

He held on but let out an undignified yelp.

“Are you okay?” Batman asked. Great. As if Tim wasn’t embarrassed enough.

“I’m fine. Tell everyone who isn’t occupied up there to come to those coordinates. We’re going dark now.” Before Batman could respond Tim shut off his comm.

“Having a nice ride?” Conner shouted, barely audible over the wind.

Tim clenched his jaw and wrapped his arms around Conner again, this time gripping onto his shirt and pressing himself as tight as he could to the older boy. “Asshole,” he mumbled, knowing that even though his face was smushed against his back and the wind was whizzing by, Conner would still hear him with his superhearing. A soft rumble from his chest confirmed it. Even if Tim couldn’t hear it, he was definitely laughing. Asshole.

---

It was dead silent when they pulled up to the little town. Tim let go of Conner, got off the bike, and started looking around.

“Creepy,” Conner said, and Tim agreed in his head.

The whole place was devoid of humanity. The only sounds were the whip of the wind and the occasional bird call of a bird. It set Tim on edge. He hated working in places like this. It was so different from Gotham or San Francisco, places that were bustling with life and sound, even if those sounds were sometimes a cry for help.

“They knew we were coming,” Tim bit his lip and frowned. How the hell did they know? He’d only just given out the coordinates a few minutes ago so unless these guys could teleport that quickly it wasn’t likely to be a mole. Maybe they had picked up on Tim’s search?

“Nah, I don’t think so.”

When Tim looked up he found Conner breaking into the windows of the nearest house. Tim ran over to him and peeked in too. “Oh,” he said.

“This ain’t a real town,” Conner said just before he walked over to the door and tugged it open, breaking the frame. He then turned to Tim with a stupid little smirk on his face and gave a little bow, gesturing for him to go in. “Ladies first.”

Tim sighed. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to be on a team with a super. “I could have picked that lock, you brute,” Tim huffed as he stepped through the broken frame, ignoring Conner’s joke.

“Can’t waste time. If we don’t find that base soon then we’re screwed.” Tim could concede that. Conner dropped the door and followed him in. “Do you think this is another decoy?”

Tim looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

Conner frowned then shook his head. “No,” he said firmly. “The others found empty lots of pieces of forest. There’s definitely something here they’re trying to hide with this whole charade.

“It’s probably a false town. A cover like Genomorph City.” Tim said as he tugged open drawers, each one aggravatingly empty. When Conner didn’t respond he looked up and cringed. The guy was pissed.

“Genomorph City isn’t accessible with your clearance level,” Conner growled. And he would know. It had been noted in the notes Tim read that the clone was the one who pushed so hard for the place to be under such a strict information lockdown.

Still, Tim didn’t have time to deal with whatever distrusting fit was about to happen. “I did some hacking. No big deal. It’s not like I changed anything. So How about you snitch after we have finished saving the world? That sound good to you?”

Conner clenched his jaw and fists then turned and left the room. Oh, joy. Now Tim got to look for clues without being interrupted.

The house was odd. He’d helped design a few shell cities throughout his years and they weren’t usually this well put together. Especially if they were hastily assembled. Tim groaned at the implication. The aliens were probably on earth even longer than expected.

A crash from outside drew Tim’s attention. Shit, he knew that riding in on that loud-ass motorcycle wasn’t going to be good but when they weren’t immediately attacked he figured they were safe. Maybe the aliens were just waiting for them to split up? But then why attack Conner? Tim would look like the much more appealing target.

He slipped a batarang into his hand and ran out ready for battle. He wasn’t met with a battle though. What he saw was instead Conner, smirking at him as he held up a big slab of metal, revealing a big ramp.

“You mentioned Genomorph City, I figured I might as well check if there’s anything underground.”

“How’d you find this? I thought you didn’t have x-ray vision?” Tim frowned as he started walking down the ramp. He was pretty sure he’d seen that on the list of Kryptonian powers that Conner was missing.

That wiped the smirk off of Conner’s face, quickly replacing it with a scowl. “Don’t need it. I’m doing perfectly fine with microscopic vision thank you very much.” Before Tim could tell him to stop he let go of the metal and it came crashing down with a thunderous thump that echoed down the halls.

“Idiot,” Tim hissed under his breath, muscles tensed and ready for the stampede of enemies that was certain to come after that racket.

A minute passed and not even a footstep approached. Conner relaxed and walked past Tim. “Relax Red, they’re probably down with all the portal tech.”

Tim took his advice and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He knew he could get tense on missions. It had only gotten worse in the past year. When he opened his eyes he cursed every brain cell that decided relaxing was an oaky measure around a Superboy of any universe.

“Superboy, wai-” Tim reached out, grabbed the clone's shirt, and attempted to tug him back. His attempt was in vain though because it just meant Tim getting dragged along as Conner stepped off the ramp and right into the motion sensors.

“Fuck,” Conner said as the harsh blare of alarms rang through the facility.

Red Robin moved without thinking. Years of team-ups with his own team had helped him hone his ability to recover from a screw-up. Sure, their element of surprise was gone, but Red Robin knew how to recover at least a piece of it.

“In,” he ordered as he slipped off the cover of an air vent. Either he was feeling guilty about setting off the alarms or Red Robin’s command voice was better than he remembered it being. Whatever it was, Superboy shimmied into the tight space without complaint.

Red Robin whipped out his wrist computer and started typing. “We break into the elevator shaft from the duct then jump down and hope that the portal tech is at the bottom.” It was a shitty plan, Red Robin could admit. But he wasn’t exactly overflowing with options.

Luckily, Superboy just nodded and they started making their way through the cramped ducts. It was a stressful journey. Red Robin clenched every time he heard the smattering of footsteps from what he could only assume were foot soldiers running around looking for the intruder. From what he could tell their sensors weren’t very precise and just said what floor the alarm was triggered on.

Absorbed in his hacking, Red Robin didn’t notice when Superboy came to a stop. Instead, he raised his head and ran right into Superboy’s butt. The clone turned back and gave him a judgmental look.

“Shut up,” Red Robin grumbled as he looked past the other man, trying to see what made him stop. This turned out to be more of a struggle than expected. Red Robin cursed in his head. Kon was never this big. Even during his own stupid t-shirt days.

“If I open this it’ll be loud as shit,” Superboy whispered.

Red Robin bit his lip in thought. He was right. It would be faster but having Superboy tear it off the wall would give away their position, the one reason they were even in this stupidly cramped place.

“I got it.” He had to unscrew everything and catch the grate before it fell. None of that anything he hadn’t done a hundred times. The only problem was the big clone boy in his way.

Red Robin was silent as he wiggled his way under Superboy. He ignored the heat of the man and focused on the cold of the sheet metal. Ignored the scent of the mountain’s shampoo, leather, and faint musky sweat, instead focusing on the stale medical smell that seemed to permeate the building.

Operating in cramped spaces was part of the basics of his training. A training that did not include having someone practically laying on top of him while he tried to work. Every time he had to shift for a better angle or lift for more leverage meant that he was wiggling more than he wanted to.

“Can you hurry this up,” Conner said through, voice strained. His breath fanned against the back of Tim’s neck, his words a quiet whisper in his ear.

Tim bit his lip and didn’t dignify that with a response. He was very set on not talking until they had at least a foot of distance between them. Instead, he focused all his attention on undoing the screws, pointedly ignoring what was happening on top of him. Something was poking him in the thigh and he was suddenly glad his suit had a cup.

When the final screw came out Tim grabbed the vent cover, placed it beside him, and started carefully shimmying out. Conner followed quickly after, a deep red blush on his cheek. He’d never seen Kon blush like that. His friend, even when head over heels, could only ever manage a faint blush at best. Maybe it was because of their difference in powers.

Red Robin shook the thought from his head and refocused. “Let’s go,” he said, nodding to the deep elevator shaft that lay below them. Superboy just nodded, still not looking at him. Then, before Red could protest, SB picked him up and lept down to the bottom.

He should have seen this coming. Should have specified a slow descent. But, in his stupid embarrassment, he’d forgotten that this clone couldn’t fly. This one just held him to his chest as they plummeted down to the ground.

Some might think that he should be used to this. He flew with Kon and Cassie all the time. He was used to the pit in his stomach as the wind rushed across his body. But he wasn’t used to falling. Never would be.

They landed with a loud thud and Red glared up at Superboy. But no alarms went off so hopefully the aliens that were supposed to be guarding the elevator had gone up to find the intruders.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Superboy pulled apart the doors to the last floor.

“Are you kidding me,” Red Robin hissed as the other started charging forward. Luckily this floor had enough foot traffic that there weren’t any active motion sensors.

“It’s here,” Superboy said.

Oh. Red Robin recognized that look. It was one he’d seen on his own Superboy when he was truly a man on a mission.

Without another word the man was charging forward, prying open every door in his way. Red Robin did his best to keep up but disabling the alarms on his wrist computer slowed him down. That was also exactly what he planned to put in his report when he was asked why he got separated from Superboy deep in enemy territory.

“Son of a billionaire,” he muttered, running through the path of damage that Superboy left in his wake.

A loud snap and zapping filled his ears as he neared where Red Robin guessed the other hero was. Then he heard the chittering and cries of the unknown allies. Finally, a shout as Superboy knocked a group of them back.

Dammit.

Red wanted to start by yelling at SB but instead, he just threw a few exploding batarangs, dispersing the ugly bugs. “You keep them distracted and I’ll handle that!” He pointed to the large reactor. Massive arcs of lightning traveled between the two ends of it and Red Robin briefly marveled at the fact that they’d managed to hide this clearly unstable contraption for so long.

Superboy frowned, clearly not happy that Tim was going off on his own, but listened.

RR weaved between aliens, knocking a few out when they got in his way, and made it to the main terminal. It wasn’t as high-tech as he expected. If they left this thing alone then it would probably crumble in a few days either way.

But the League didn’t have a few days. They were being overwhelmed as Red stood there trying to figure out what the hell the emergency off switch was. All the keys looked identical. Smooth silver squares that didn’t denote their purpose at all.

With a sigh, Red Robin gave up on the terminal. He gleaned back at the battle and found Superboy hurling an alien at a group of its buddies, knocking them down like he was bowling. Still, just like the League, he was getting overwhelmed.

A flash of lightning caught his eye. Huh.

A grin crept across his face. Red Robin knew how to deal with weird bases, he’d done it enough in his spare time. Without a second thought, he rushed over to the reactor and opened one of the panels. Inside he found big vials of bubbling yellow liquid. Right next to it was a meter which he guessed was measuring the heat on that thing. It was just barely outside the red.

Glancing over his shoulder, Tim made sure that Conner wasn’t looking, then he unscrewed one of the bubbling vials and slipped it into his utility belt. Whatever this was it was powering a portal, even if it wasn’t cross-dimensional, it could still help Tim.

With that done, Red Robin stabbed a batarang into the panel and then closed it shut, hiding the device and its soft beeping. Now, with his mission accomplished, it was time for them to get the hell out of there.

“Superboy let’s move!” he yelled over the chaos. Without waiting for a response he shot his grapple around one of the beams and then swung over the battle. Superboy tore through the horde of bugs and followed him.

Superboy jumped and launched himself past Red Robin, which was mighty fine for him, but that meant that there was now a massive horde charging directly at RR.

Fighting them off wasn’t viable. He got three whole explosive batarangs off before they got too close for him to throw anymore. He swung his bo, knocked some back with kicks and elbows, but there were just so many. More and more bugs rushed forward like a flood. Their claws tugged at his suit, ripping both kevlar and flesh as their pointy claws dragged across his body. He kept fighting through the pain, it was something he’d been trained for.

A hand grabbed onto his torn cape and tugged hard, pulling him out of the horde and dragging him down the hall. He stared at the dripping trail of blood for a split second then scrambled to his feet.

Apparently having Superboy fight those guys was the right choice because when they reached the elevator shaft and he crushed the two doors together, they were alone.

Now, behind the safety of the thick steel doors, Conner was looking at him with concern that made Tim want to run. It was a foreign look. So much like Kon yet different enough that he couldn’t disappear into the fantasy. He had the furrow in his brow and the caring eyes, yet Kon didn’t frown like that, even when he was worried. He didn’t clench his hands like he was physically stopping himself from checking on Tim. Kon just looked. But Conner couldn’t, he just held himself back.

Tim took a breath and focused. They needed to make Not a single alien stopped them as they made their way up the emergency stairwell, just the blaring alarms and the red flashing lights.

“Did you stop the portal?” Conner finally asked as they broke into the top floor.

“Not yet,” Tim grinned. “Let’s get out of here first.”

Conner looked like he wanted to say something else but he just shook his head and kept running. He charged forward when they reached the big ramp and pushed open the big metal door.

The two of them rushed out of the compound and toward Conner’s bike. Just before they zoomed off Tim reached into his belt and clicked a trigger, a low rumble following as the entire city shook.

They stood around long enough to see the flood of alien bugs start rushing out, then Conner revved the bike and they were off. The reactor was going to fully blow sometime soon and if they were smart the bugs would scatter. The League could take care of gathering them up.

For now, Tim slid close, wrapped his arms around Conner’s waist, grabbed his belt, and held on tight.

---

The portal closed a few seconds after the reactor blew and Tim was only slightly guilty to call the League members, who weren’t in the infirmary, down to gather the bugs.

Back at the mountain, the Team was waiting up, along with Bruce and Dinah. The second they were through the doors Bart was on Tim, fretting and checking him over. There were a few gasps from the group, probably at the state of Tim. He was bloody and his costume was torn and frankly, he was just not having a good time.

Luckily, Bruce didn’t make him debrief there. Instead, they went to the infirmary and he said Tim could fill out a report on his laptop later. Tim blinked up at him at first, but he just accepted it. He’d had enough time to accept that this world was soft. He could even say that with all his injuries.

He was very happy when they finally let him rest though. It was pathetic. This mission was less than an hour and he’d managed to tire himself out if he went back to his universe like this then he’d be eaten alive by a damn mugger.

Tim glanced down at his stomach where he knew the scar was. Sometimes he forgot he’d been gutted.

The medbay doors hissed open as Tim was drifting off to sleep. His first instinct was to tell whoever it was to fuck off, but he just opened his eyes and glared.

“Sorry,” Conner said, “I figured I’d say my piece before you went to sleep.”

Timm squinted at him in suspicion. He wasn’t under the delusion that one little team-up was enough to brush over the grudge that Conner was so keen on holding. He’d teamed up with Jason and Damian enough to know that.

Conner was looking anywhere but at him, and Tim was okay with that. It meant that Tim could stare at him for a second. Identify all the differences between the boy he knew and the man sitting in front of him.

No, his head hurt too much for that. Or maybe his heart. Whatever it was he pushed it down and spoke up. “What was it?”

Conner fidgeted and Tim wanted to roll his eyes but he was pretty sure that would hurt with the concussion he was hiding. Instead, he just scoffed. “You don’t need to do this. We can just go back to before. You being distrusting of me and me being perfectly nice.”

Tim grinned when Conner glared at him, clearly testing his patience. “I was going to say good job today. And apologize for how I’ve been acting.”

Huh. he really hadn’t expected that.

“So what, you want to be friends now?”

“No thanks.” Conner shot down the idea in an instant. His deadpan face was almost enough to make Tim laugh. The pain in his rips stopped him though.

Tim laid back down, then turned and smiled up at the clone. “Thank you for saving me though. Even if we aren’t friends.” He hadn’t meant to thank the guy. Saving people was what heroes did. But he was just so tired and maybe he was talking a bit before he could think it though.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Conner grumbled as he got up and made his way to the door.

“Oh, and I promise not to tell anyone about the air vent thing,” Tim said, sleep slurring his speech.

There was a few muttered curses and some more grumbling but then the medbay door slid closed again and the lights shut off. A few seconds later Tim drifted away in sleep.

Notes:

Sorry for updating so late at night but I started this late lol.

I decided to have their relationship start a bit sooner than I expected to but honestly this week sucked so have some good gay boys.

As usual all comments are appreciated! I know I haven't replied recently but I'm planning to go through them this weekend and reply <3

Oh, also, I decided to roll it back. This is in fact t-shirt Conner. I don't want this Conner to be too similar to Kon. Make of that what you will.

Chapter 14: Tim Hates Roller Coasters Both Literal and Emotional

Summary:

Bart gives puppy dog eyes, Tim and Conner yell then talk, Tim cries into Conner's chest, and then fun times at the state fair.

The vial of mysterious liquid was not the score Tim thought it was. Or maybe it was. He’d never know though because he didn’t have a lab good enough to even get the basics of data on it. All he knew was from the info that he’d hacked from what the League had gathered.

It wasn’t nothing. Barry was the universe’s foremost chemist, he could break this thing down and figure out plenty. But they didn’t have as big of a sample as Tim had. Barry had gotten just a few drops and from the not-so-frequent updates to the research, Tim was pretty sure it was holding him back.

So, instead of doing what he wanted, which was tearing this thing apart, he was lying on his bed and staring at the vial. It wasn’t bubbling or hissing. The only sign that it wasn’t from Earth was the occasional spark of static when he touched the vial.

A banging on his door made him jump, and he scrambled to catch the glass before it fell.

“Tim! Tim!” The door slid open and a second later Bart had launched himself onto the bed beside him.

Tim had hoped to keep the vial hidden for as long as possible. He knew it would be discovered eventually, but it had only been a week since the incident and he hadn’t even had a chance to study it on his own. Even though he was getting some more freedom in the mountain he hadn’t gotten the chance to actually leave outside of missions. Not that he wanted to.

But, with Bart throwing himself on the bed, the vial was sent flying in the air, in plain sight. He tried to catch it before Bart got a look at it but even he knew it was an exercise in futility. Just as his fingers were touching the glass Bart snatched it out of the air.

“What’s this?” He was inspecting the chemical, holding it close to his face.

Tim’s first instinct was to steal it back and hide it, except Bart could search the whole room before Tim even hid the thing, so he just sighed and answered. “It’s something I got off those aliens.”

Bart looked up at him with wide eyes. “Isn’t that the stuff that Barry has been trying to study?” He looked back at the vial, studying it closer.

“Yeah… I just want to get a look at it first. On my own, you know,” Tim said, smiling nervously. He was fairly certain that Bart wouldn’t turn him in, except… Bart was different here. Tim tried to ignore it.

Bart squinted at him then flopped back onto the bed. “You think this’ll help you get back?” Tim hated the resignation in his voice and the distant look in his eyes as he stared up at the ceiling.

“Hopefully,” was all he said in response.

A quiet fell over the room as Bart continued inspecting the vial, though at this point he was mostly just rotating it in his hand. Tim wanted to ask for it back. Anyone could walk through that door and see it. But he wasn’t sure Bart would actually hand it over. He knew Bart’s opinion of his search to get home. He hadn’t said anything but his friend wasn’t exactly subtle.

Luckily for Tim, he put down the tube and sat up, a smile on his face. “You should take a break and come with us to the state fair. Maybe you haven’t had a breakthrough because you’ve been cooping yourself up in here all week.”

Tim knew a few of the younger heroes were planning to go. He’d avoided it so far, maybe even hoped that a bunch of them would leave and he’d be able to sneak into the mountain’s lab. Except he wasn’t sure he’d even get much from that. The mountain’s lab was stocked but he wouldn’t have much time.

Suddenly, he got an idea. “I’ll go to the fair if you help me sneak out and make a lab.” It was a good trade-off. Both Bart and Tim got what they wanted.

Bart looked up at him, mouth twisted into a grimace. He clearly didn’t like the idea, but he also wanted Tim to go to the fair. He was just opening his mouth to respond when an annoyingly familiar voice gleaned his throat in the doorway. Turn turned and glared at Conner.

“Bart, why don’t you go make sure everyone is ready so we can head out.” His tone left no room for argument. It reminded him of when Bruce would dismiss him from a room to argue with Dick.

Tim looked at Bart then sighed. “It’s fine.”

In a rush of wind, he was gone and the two were left alone. They hadn’t really talked since the mission, though Conner had joined him, Gar, and Bart a few times when they gamed. This wasn’t going to be a nice talking to though, Tim could feel it. That annoyed wrinkle between Conner’s brows was there.

“I can help you get a place to set up a lab.” Tim’s mind screeched to a halt, his comeback dying on his tongue.

“Huh.” That was not what he’d expected. Not at all.

“Even the league won’t let you out with just Bart, so I’ll help you set up a lab.” He wasn’t lording it over Tim’s head like Kon would. It was just a firm and logical assurance. “Only if you go to the fair though. Bart’s pretty excited.”

Tim blinked. “Oh, yeah. I know. He’s been talking about it all month.” Back home he would have felt bad about missing. He might have even snuck out to join late. But here it was just another distraction, even if it was coming from Bart.

“So let’s make a deal. Fair for the lab.”

Tim stared up at him for a second, thinking of what would happen if he said no. His chances of sneaking out without Conner reporting him were basically zilch now. And he’d probably be watching the mountain’s lab too. “Fine.”

Neither of them got up to leave though. Conner was frowning now, and the pinch in his brow was back. Tim knew he should leave it alone. Just ignore the guy and go join Bart. But he was so used to the oaf spitting out whatever insult it was that was rattling around in his brain that this silence was unnerving. Ironic since he was silent most of the time.

“Spit it out,” Tim grumbled.

Conner didn’t need much convincing. “Bart likes it here.”

Tim glared at him. “Yeah, I picked up on that.” Much to his displeasure. “So, what? I’m not secretly planning to push him through the portal or anything.” Though he definitely had the urge.

The other man’s frown deepened, pulling his lips into a thin line. “What I mean is that you shouldn’t ruin that just because you wanna rush back. You could actually give adjusting a shot. Or at least be grateful that your friend is trying for you.”

“I’d be more grateful if I got some help leaving. But wait, that’s not happening.” He hated this feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t wrong for wanting to get home. “No, all that I get is a bunch of assholes who act like me wanting to get back to my home is the craziest thing in the fucking universe!”

Conner snorted and shook his head. “From what I’ve heard there isn’t much waiting for you anyway.”

Tim froze, his breath catching in his throat. “You don’t know shit,” he said through gritted teeth.

“I know both Bruce and Bart said that it isn’t safe to have you around your so-called family,” He started, stepping forward. “I know that Bart, a guy from the literal apocalypse, started acting like a guard dog the second any of them were mentioned.” He got even closer, just inches from Tim’s face, his breath fanning across Tim’s cheeks. “And I know that they have a lot more tech than us but still haven’t come looking.”

He barely held himself back from tackling the older boy. Fighting wouldn’t help his case. Wouldn’t get rid of the pain from just how close his words were hitting.

“So what am I supposed to do? Since you seem to know everything. Go ahead. What am I supposed to do? Just sit on my ass and wait? Play around with the b league but only under lock and key because, ‘hey don’t trust the guy you tried to kidnap! He might run away!’” Tim couldn’t stop himself from yelling.

This whole thing was crazy. Everyone acting like chilling in another universe was the best solution. Like he didn’t have a home to get back to. People who might be waiting for him. At the very least a life he had built himself.

“You could try trusting someone for a start.”

“He kidnapped me!” Tim shouted in Conner’s face. The words ripped out of his throat, harsh and tearing. He felt the tears tugging behind his eyes. The thump of his heart in his chest.

He’d been kidnapped.

It hadn’t really hit before. Maybe it was because everything was so familiar, or everyone was so nice, or just because Bart was there. Whatever it was that was keeping all this back, it was gone. That last shred of defense was gone.

“How about you try getting kidnapped and being told to play fucking house!” The door to the room was still open. Anyone could hear this. But he couldn’t stop himself. The floodgates were open and the pressure was too much. “How is it so hard to get it through your thick skulls that I want to leave! You kidnapped me, not the other way around!”

Tim was heaving for air. His face was flushed and he could feel the hot tears turning trails down his cheeks. He wiped at his face, the rough sleeves of his jacket scratchy on his heated skin.

When Conner didn’t respond it was like an ice bucket was dumped on Tim. He was mortified. All this outburst over the damn state fair. It was humiliating.

“Sorry,” he said as he calmed himself down. When he looked up he saw Conner, staring at him with sorrowful eyes. He was still so close. Hadn’t moved an inch through any of Tim’s screaming. Yet he still didn’t say anything. He just reached up and pulled Tim into a hug.

Tim stood stock still, not sure what to do. He knew how to hug. Dick had made sure of that when he first moved into the manor. Bart, Kon, and Cassie had drilled the lesson in. He just wasn’t used to hugging people who couldn’t stand him.

Still, it was nice. Conner was warm, and even though he didn’t smell exactly like Kon, he always smelled a bit too much like he’d been working out for that, there was still that hint of leather and grass. So Tim pressed his face into Conner’s chest, buried his nose between the well-defined pecs that Kon had dreamed of having, and let go. He cried into the stupid black Superman shirt, gripped the back of the brown leather jacket, and held the man as tight as he could.

He ignored it when he felt a hand rest on the back of his neck cradling him, the other resting on the small of his back. He tried to imagine Kon holding him like this. He would be smaller. Probably would have said something by now. It would be sweet and touching and make Tim want to kiss him.

But this wasn’t Kon. And for once Tim was thankful for that. Conner wasn’t prying into this sudden shift. He didn’t pull back and ask Tim to explain himself or promise to in the future. He just held him as he cried.

“Sorry,” he said as he was pulling back.

Conner stepped away, rubbing the back of his neck, a slight blush dusting his cheeks. It made him look nice. “No, I should be the one apologizing. It’s none of my business.”

Tim snorted. “True, but it’s nice to know that Bart has people looking out for him here.”

“He’s a cute kid. Doesn’t deserve to be blown off by his friend like that,” Conner said, expectantly.

“Fine,” Tim said with a sigh. “Our deal stands though. I’ll go to the fair but you gotta help me get the hell out of this universe.”

Conner shook his head and Tim was suddenly wondering if maybe he should have bitten his tongue earlier. “Nope. Sorry, but that deal’s off the table.”

Tim stared at him, mouth hanging open. “You literally just gave me the deal! How can it be off the table already?!” He’d just cried into the guy’s very plush check. That had to count for something, right?

“Nope, but I’ve got a new offer.” Tim bit his lip and glared. Conner was enjoying this, the dick. “I’ll help you with your lab, if, and only if, you stop being so… you… about all this.”

“What the fuck does that mean,” Tim frowned. How was he supposed to be less himself?

“Just, try to have a bit more fun. I mean, sure the dinner and game nights count, but more than that. You haven’t even asked if you can leave the mountain with anyone.”

“Because they won’t let me.” Tim was positive on that one.

Conner sighed and Tim wanted to kick him for it. “Maybe in your universe, they wouldn’t, but you’ve got Bruce wrapped around your finger here. You won’t know unless you actually try.”

“So what, I should ask if I can go out and walk around Target? Go see a movie?” Tim deadpanned.

“I’m just saying that Bart likes it here, maybe you could too,” Conner said, raising his hands and backing off.

Tim clenched his fists and looked down. “I’m leaving anyway.” No point in getting attached. He’d learned that lesson enough in his own universe.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy your time here.” He sounded so nonchalant. Like none of this actually mattered.

Unlike Conner, Tim was very chalant. His whole body was tense, even though he’d just cried out a crap ton of tension, and his mind was going a mile a minute. He knew Bart wanted him to stay. There were quite a few people who wanted him to stay. They wanted him to like it there because of it. But Conner was offering something different. Just like the place until he leaves. That’s all it would have to be. Like a vacation.

“Fine,” he said after a moment. Then he held out his hand, giving a firm shake when Conner took it. “A deal’s a deal, now don’t break it.”

As if on cue, Bart came zipping into the room, a big smile on his face.

“Everyone's ready! How about you guys?” He was looking at Tim with big expectant eyes, and Tim could finally return that smile.

“Lead the way.”

---

The fair was nice. Not that he hadn’t expected it to be. That wasn’t the reason he didn’t want to go. He was just thinking it was nice. He hadn’t expected to leave the state for it though.

They were now in Oklahoma, walking through lines of food stalls while Bart and Gar ran up Tim’s card. They’d stopped to get corndogs the second they entered the fairgrounds and they’d even found a shop that sold vegan fair food. Bart had run there and back a few times by now fetching food.

“How about you, sir!” A loud voice yelled from one of the center stalls.

When Tim turned to look he found a teenage boy holding our rings to him. Behind him floated a bunch of bottles in a kiddie pool. Tim quickly scanned the prizes, landing on a massive Pichu stuffed animal.

“Go on,” Conner said, nudging him forward. “Better not lose.” Tim squinted at the small smirk on his face. He was up to something. Still, he handed a five to the guy and took the rings. He had a Pichu to win.

Tim glanced down at the mass of people, finding Bart, Cassie, and Gar waiting in line at another food place, this time getting fried Oreos. If he counted on how long Bart would have to stand in line at the vegan place to get Gar some, then he should be fine.

With a small flick of his wrist, he shot out two of the rings, grinning as they clinked and spun around the necks of the glass bottles he’d aimed for. These weren’t much different from his batarangs. It would be embarrassing if he lost this.

He readied his next ring. If he got three then he could choose any prize he wanted. With two down the kid running the stands was looking more excited than Tim. It was probably depressing seeing people spend their money and then walk away with nothing so often. At least Tim would be graceful and give him a reprieve from that suffering.

He flicked his wrist again, sending another ring flying. He could already imagine the Pichu in his hands, Bart’s little bounces as he handed it to him, and- The ring landed with a splash. It was near the edge of the pool, not even close to the bottles. He’d overshot it by a mile.

Tim stood there mortified.

“Wow, homerun,” Conner chuckled from just a step behind him. Tim could feel the man’s warmth across the couple of inches that separated them.

“Shut it,” Tim bit back over his shoulder, elbowing the clone in the gut hard enough to elicit an oof.

He tried the toss again, taking it slow and aiming just as Bruce had taught him. Then, with practiced ease and concentration, he flung the ring at one of the bottles, keeping a sharp eye on it.

Any other time he would have just blamed it on the wind. But as he watched the ring overshoot his target, he knew something was up. The distinct smell of cinnamon gave Tim a hint.

“You!” he shouted, whirling around so he could point a finger in Conner’s face.

The clone just raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Me.” He blinked, suspiciously.

“You blew on it,” Tim hissed, careful to keep his voice just low enough that only Conner could hear it.

Conner huffed a laugh and then leaned down until his lips were next to Tim’s ear. “I think you’re going crazy, bird boy.”

Tim shivered as the hot air ghosted against his skin, the graze of Conner’s lip on the shell of his ear as he talked. Fucking Christ he should have worn a jacket. The cold was not helping him here. Though it did confirm his guess.

“I smell cinnamon, asshole.”

Conner frowned, or maybe pouted would be a better word. “Forgot about that,” he grumbled.

Feeling bold, Tim turned his head, letting his lips ghost the edge of Conner’s ear just as the other boy had for him. “I’m winning this Pichu. If you screw this up I’ll tie you up with kryptonite for a week.” Tim felt Conner shiver and let out a breathy whimper so he guessed his threat was heard loud and clear.

Tim pulled back with a smirk and turned to the bottles, flicking his last ring at one without much care. Just like the first two, it clanked and landed around the neck of a battle with perfect precision.

“Congratulations!” The boy on the other side of the stall yelled, seeming even more excited than Tim. “Since you got three rings you can choose any of our prizes!”

Tim asked for the Pichu and did his best not to look impatient while the kid got a ladder to take it down. It wasn’t his fault that Conner had thrown off the schedule and now the others might be back before he even got the freaking prize.

The line at the vegan place must have been longer than usual because they were able to meet up with M’gann and Artemis before Bart, Cassie, and Gar got back.

“I thought you weren’t going to play any games?” Artemis smirked when Tim showed up with the Pichu.

Ah, yes. He’d said that when they first asked him to scam the booths for them. Not that it was really a scam, but still. He’d earned his skills fair and square and he could use them as he damn well pleased. Plus, the Raichu plush in her arms wasn’t a strong defense for her own innocence.

“Artemis taught me how to do the shooting game,” Cassie said. She had a few small prizes to show for her efforts. There was even one medium-sized one so maybe Artemis had been able to teach her something for real.

“I think it’s great that you’re getting into the state fair spirit,” M’gann smiled. She had a goodie bag from one of the shopping areas in her hand. The label was too crinkled for Tim to guess what it was though.

“I didn’t realize there was a state fair spirit,” Tim smiled. He'd been smiling a lot this trip. Whether it was the fresh air, the event itself, or just being around people having fun, he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying himself.

“Of course, there’s a state fair spirit!” Bart said, popping up beside him. “You got a Pichu!” He was loud, even for the fair, Tim laughed and handed it over.

“As a thanks for dragging me out of my room.” He watched as Bart hugged the giant stuffed animal that was almost half his size, his fingers barely touching around it.

He glanced at Conner, wondering if he should get the clone something too. He decided against it when Conner caught him looking and smiled.

“We need to head to the roller coasters before they shut down!” Gar said, grabbing M’gann’s arm and tugging her toward them.

M’gann laughed as she was tugged along and the rest of the group followed behind. In the very back were Conner and Tim though. Tim never liked roller coasters. He’d seen Final Destination as a kid and it stuck with him.

When they arrived the lines weren’t as long as Tim had expected. He waved as the group split off, M’gann, Artemis, Cassie, Bart, and Gar, all going to the line of something called the Kraken. When Conner didn’t go Tim turned to him.

“You not going?” He asked. Tim knew his reasoning but he was pretty sure the guy with invulnerability didn’t have to worry about dropping from a roller coaster.

Conner shrugged. “Can’t leave you here alone,” he said, watching the others as they got in line. Then he turned and looked down at Tim, a barely perceptible smile tilting his lips upward. “I did drag you here after all.”

Once the others got in line the two of them headed for one of the free benches nearby. “I should thank you.” Watching as the people walked by, smelling the greasy fair food, listening to the high-pitched screams from the rides. It was more stimulation than he’d gotten out of anything other than a fight in months.

It was worse the last week. Stuck in that mountain, staring at that vial of chemicals, unable to do anything. It was like the whole world was moving in slow motion. His main relief had been Bart, running around him and chatting his ear off. They were some of the few times when he didn’t feel so restless he’d burst out of his skin.

Now, with all of the commotion around him, he finally felt connected. Grounded.

A warmth around him dragged him from his thoughts. Then the familiar smell of leather and the natural musk that Tim was embarrassed to be able to clock as Conner’s. “What’s this?” He asked as he wiggled into the jacket. He blushed when he noticed how big on him it was. At least two sizes. It was at times like this that he remembered how much bigger than Kon Conner was. How much bigger than Tim.

“It’s a jacket,” Conner said, a small smirk on his face.

Tim swatted at his shoulder. “You know what I mean.”

Conner laughed and leaned back against the bench. “You looked cold. I don’t feel it much.”

Tim hadn’t felt it much himself honestly. Though now that he had the toasty jacket around him he realized how cold he actually was, the little wobble in his jaw he’d been holding back. He sighed and leaned back as well.

They sat in silence, watching as families, groups of friends, and dates walked by. Tim glanced to the side and then slid across the bench until their thighs were touching. He tapped the side of Conner’s shoe with his own. “Thanks,” Tim said, staring forward. “I guess you’re not as much of an asshole as I thought.”

Conner snorted and elbowed him back. “You’re still under evaluation.”

“Asshole,” Tim mumbled and he leaned against the clone. “You’re warm.”

“And you’re tired.” His voice was quiet. Softer than he’d ever heard the man speak.

“Not a lot of,” he was interrupted by a yawn. “Not a lot of places to power nap.” The cold must have been keeping him awake. Or maybe the cry had tired him out earlier and it was all catching up to him. Whatever it was, he decided not to fight it. “Wake me up when it’s time to leave.”

The last thing he felt was an arm around his waist and a hand guiding his head to Conner’s shoulder.

“When Bart said you were frustrating I didn’t think it’d be like this.”

Notes:

This fic is being moved to Wednesday because I want to update a fic during the week and I rolled this one.

Anyway I hope you enjoyed this! I held back on the TimKon for this because I promise this is a slow burn... but they still wiggled through my fingers lmao. Also I love the state fair it's so nice.

I'm trying to reply to more comments but even if I don't I promise I do read them and I love reach and every one of them <3

Chapter 15: It's Totally Just Temporary

Summary:

Tim becomes a provisional member of the team, goes on an official mission assigned by Batman, and the plot thickens with Bart right at the center.

Tim should have known that something was up. Everything was going too well.

Bart shot across the room, faster than he’d seen the guy move in all the time Tim had been in this universe. Arcs of lightning ripped across the floor and up the large cylinders of chemicals. The sound of glass shattering filled the room and burn marks stretched across the metal.

Tim lept up just in time to avoid the yellow liquid that flooded the room, electrified by Bart’s… whatever that was.

A memory bubbled up the surface.

It was his first week in the mountain. One of the first times that he’d been allowed into the training room. It was for strict observation purposes only. Tim hadn’t been depressed about that. If it had been him making the calls then Tim would be sitting in a cell.

Watching the team was rewarding in itself though. They were decent, but clearly from a world where combat hadn’t been pushed as far as it had in his world.

That wasn’t what concerned him though. It was Bart.

He’d noticed when he’d first met his friend again. Through all of his zipping, his friend was slower. And not just a little. This wasn’t just underdeveloped speedster slow though. This was… well Tim really wasn’t sure.

So, Tim, in need of information, pulled his friend aside the moment training was finished.

“What was that,” he’d asked in the most calm yet stern voice he could manage.

Bart looked guilty. It was his hiding something look. Tim knew it well. He put on his best glare to combat it.

“I’m slow,” Bart said, sounding almost pathetic.

“Yeah, I got that, but why.”

Bart looked at him and gone was the smiley boy who’d been doing his best to cheer Tim up for the past week. “There’s no speed force. I’m not connected.”

A loud alarm screeched to life. Conner was yelling something at Tim, but all he could do was stare at Bart. Bart, who was being shaken by Jaime, but wouldn’t wake up.

---

Five hours earlier

A soft ping rang through the mountain. Everyone in the game room sighed and set down their stuff, but nobody was running to go throw on their uniforms. This wasn’t a ‘get out of the mountain and go stop this attack right now’ type of alarm. This was a ‘We’ve got a mission scheduled for you’ alarm. A call for attention but no real rush.

“You know what’s up?” Gar asked him as they walked. He was trying to be quiet but a few of the others were not so subtly listening in.

“Why would I know?”

Gar looked at him, unimpressed. “Because you’re always snooping in the league stuff.”

Tim’s steps faltered. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Cassie snorted but turned away when Tim glared.

“Come on. We’ve kept your secret this long,” whined Gar.

He glanced over at Bart, who just ginned, then sighed. “All I know is the usual. Nothing about any mission.” That was a lie. He was pretty sure he knew what this was about. But, just because the others knew of his propensity to hacking the League, they didn’t need to know how much info he got.

Gar looked like he was about to ask more questions but then more team members entered the hall, ones that Tim guessed weren’t aware of his hacking.

The other members got to chatting but Tim stayed quiet. He didn’t like these meetings. He much preferred the ones where the team had to rush out to a fight. They were much more likely to let him man the monitor then.

Most of the heroes were in civilian clothes as they ambled into the meeting room. At the head of the room however was the usual lineup, Black Canary, Batman, and Red Tornado. They were all dressed up and Tim wondered if the League was about to head out on their own mission. He hoped so. That also meant that Tim was more likely to have the chance to hop on the monitor.

Batman cleared his throat when the final member walked in and everyone turned to him on instinct. It was fascinating, watching the non-bats respond to him. In Tim’s universe, he’d get some muttered complaints for it. At the very least a glare or two. Just because heroes respected his opinion, it didn’t mean they liked receiving it. Or liked him.

This universe was different though. Sure, there were still heroes he butted heads with, and enough of the younger heroes seemed nervous in his presence, but nobody everybody respected him. Not just as a leader, but as a person.

Though, Tim hadn’t seen the man interact with a lantern yet so there was always the possibility of being proven wrong.

“The League has pinned down a local Meta-Human trafficking ring.” Batman clicked his clicker and the image zoomed in to the southern United States. Local was relative, but in the scheme of universe-wide trafficking rings, the same nation was pretty local.

“The League isn’t big enough to do this by ourselves. You’ll be joining us, teamed up with someone from the League in case one of these locations is hiding something bigger.”

So Tim was right. Though, he definitely hadn’t expected it to be so close. Nor the number of locations they’d found. There were over fifty different dots on the map. The team and League combined barely covered that. They’d need more than every hand if they wanted to do a near-simultaneous assault. Yet, Tim knew he wasn’t going out on this.

It was a stupid thought. He didn’t even want to be a hero here. He was just passing through for God’s sake. Sure, that mission with Conner had been fun. The most fun he’d had in a long time. Finally being on a mission where his teammates didn’t expect him to constantly be fucking up. A teammate who didn’t treat him like he was glad. Wasn’t afraid to touch him.

“Tim.” His name drew his attention. Batman was looking right at him, others probably couldn’t tell, but he was a prodigy on batfaces. This was expectant Batman. Shit, he’d missed something.

B must have caught on to that because he repeated it. “You’re being assigned as an official provisional member of the team.”

“If that’s what you want, of course,” Black Canary tacked on.

“Yeah, totally, definitely,” Tim stumbled out as fast as he could. He blushed when, a few feet away, Conner let out a snort. There were a few more muffled laughs scattered around the room but Tim focused his glare on Conner. Asshole.

Batman nodded, and Tim gathered himself as the man started dolling out assignments. A few team members nodded here and there, and Tim tried to pay attention, he really did. Except he was busy keeping his face completely neutral.

Tim was being completely normal about this. He hadn’t even been the one who started asking. It was Bart, and then Gar, Jaime, and Virgil, and honestly, he stopped keeping track of the applications after that. Conner had thrown his name into the mix last week though.

He was happy. He could admit that. It was alright for him to be happy. As Batman said, it was only as a provisional member. He wasn’t doing anything concrete. He could still leave the second he figured out that stupid portal. He just now was also a member of the team, could finally leave the cave, and do something besides play games and train.

“Beetle,” Batman’s gruff voice once again caught his attention.

Jaime, who was holding up his hand, shrunk a bit. “I was just wondering why my name wasn’t called.” Tim blinked, trying to recall if he was right. In his search though, he realized something else.

“Mine wasn’t either,” he said, confused. He’d just been made part of the team and they were already sidelining him?

“Me neither, me neither!”

“Same here,” Conner said, though much more relaxed. Tim squinted at him, turning away when his lips upturned into a sly smile. The cocky jerk definitely knew what was up.

Batman cleared his throat again, bringing the room to attention. “You four will be on your own mission, separate from the League and the rest of the team.”

Tim frowned. He hadn’t seen anything about another mission in the logs.

“In our search for this Meta trafficking ring, we found some documentation linking Lex Luthor to this. It likely won’t be enough to put him away but it will make him start dismantling his operations enough to stay hidden.”

Ah, Tim was starting to catch on. He’d been through this enough times in his own world to see the pattern.

“A few days ago we discovered a facility that we believe is connected to the recent alien invasion. Though it isn’t directly under him, through enough shell companies we were able to track Luthor at the top.”

That shocked absolutely nobody. At least not the Luthor at the top thing. Now, him having something to do with an alien invasion? That even confused Tim a bit. Though, he’d learned long ago not to rationalize the thoughts of a madman unless you were actively tracking them.

“We had hoped to continue surveillance before infiltrating, however with the upcoming raid it is likely that he will destroy the facility by the time we are ready.”

“So, our mission is to infiltrate this freaky alien Luthor lab?” Bart interrupted, squeaking when B glared at him.

“Your mission is to enter and gather whatever intel and samples you can, then get out. Do not get noticed.” Batman scanned the group of heroes. “The mission will begin in two hours. Dismissed.” He turned around and walked off, his cape flowing dramatically behind him.

Members of the team scattered, most of them giving him quick nods or shouting congratulations, even a few pats on the shoulder, before disappearing to get ready. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim spotted Conner walking out by himself. Well, not by himself, he was following a few others to the training room, probably to get warmed up, but by himself enough that Tim had no problem jogging to join him.

“You okay with this?” He asked. Not that Tim actually cared about the answer. He’d been on plenty of teams with people who didn’t like him. He could suck it up again if needed. And Conner had submitted his own appeal for Tim to join the team so really, if you thought about it, he was just being courteous.

Conner gave an affirmative hum that loosened the knot in Tim’s stomach. “The last mission helped me get my head on straight.” The clone glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Plus, I thought we got pretty close last time.”

Tim frowned. Sure, they hadn’t exactly been at each other's throats since then, but he wouldn’t call them close. It was only when Tim saw the hint of amusement in Conner’s eyes that he caught on.

“Asshole,” he muttered, speeding up and joining the rest of the group as they entered the training room. “Stupid fucking vents.”

“What was that?” Artemis asked.

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Tim said, fighting back his blush. Stupid fucking Conner Kent.

---

The rest of the team zeta’d to the Hall of Justice to meet up with the League. While they did that, Tim’s group left on the Supercycle, heading up to Canada.

Thirty minutes later they were hiding behind a bunch of rocks, sneaking closer and closer to the facility. Impulse looked like he wanted to just take off by himself and get it done already. Red Robin wondered if that happened a lot before he got here.

Luckily his friend was holding himself back so he wasn’t too worried about him. He was more worried about the other two. Superboy wasn’t exactly sneaky last time, and Blue Beetle didn’t have a stellar reputation with infiltration either.

“That door there,” Red said into his comm.

The League hadn’t been able to do a lot of surveillance but from the little they had, they’d found a weakness. A few of the newer scientists were lax with security and twice a day every day, around noon, and six, one of them would leave the facility to go get them all food. They’d apparently decided that convenience was more important than security though because every one of them propped the facility door open.

Like clockwork one of the scientists left at six, propping the door open with a fucking brick. Red bet if he went and looked at this guy’s work history and college transcripts then it would show an amazingly smart man. Never underestimate the stupidity of a smart person.

RR looked to Superboy, the clone had already positioned himself to get a better look through the crack in the door. A small nod was all they needed and the team was off, dashing for the door. As he ran, Red flicked a batarang into the security camera pointed at the entrance.

“That was easy,” Impulse grinned.

Blue groaned and ran a hand over his armored face. “Dude, seriously.”

“What, it was.” Impulse shrugged and got ready to shoot down the hallway. RR just barely grabbed onto his shoulder in time to stop him.

“What is with you people and tripping alarms?”
“This place doesn’t have motion alarms. I mean, look at it!” Impulse held out his hands like a realtor showing off a dingy house.

“You don’t know that,” Red said as he started hacking into the closest control panel. It was technically just a fancy bit of tech that had been reduced to a swipe-your-badge station, but it was a vulnerability Red Robin was perfectly fine with exploiting.

Impulse stood behind him, standing on his tippy toes to look over RR’s shoulder. “Well, are there?”

Red turned his head to hide the pinched look on his face. “No,” he grumbled. What kind of two-bit fucking villain base doesn’t have motion sensors.

Blue Beetle and Impulse high-fived while Superboy leaned in and mumbled, “You forgot to read the notes from the League.”

Red Robin blushed. He hadn’t forgotten. He’d given them a skim. A very last-minute one. Sue him, he was distracted. Being accepted as a provisional member of the team was important and he had to prove himself.

Sure, he’d proven he could hold his own in a fight, but he actually had to prove himself in a real team-wide mission. That meant setting up his suit and his gadgets and making sure that everything was ready for when they left. The notes had slipped his mind, that’s all.

“Let’s go,” he said, straightening his spine and marching forward. He wasn’t the leader of the group, that was Superboy, but he didn’t seem keen on disagreeing with RR yet.

Searching the halls of the facility was a big fat waste of time. The League hadn’t been able to get much info on the interior of the building so they were going in damn near blind. That meant that they were seeing a lot of empty rooms. Either that or rooms that were full of false data.

It wasn’t until twenty minutes into their search that they actually found something. An elevator, hidden in a far-off corner of the building. The only reason they’d even found it was because Superboy recognized the sound and tracked it down.

“Think you can figure out how to get this thing open?” The clone asked, looking at RR.

He hummed as he studied the wall. It was a perfectly plain lab wall, nothing that indicated there was something behind it. Red Robin didn’t enjoy this tactic, it was a stupid move that Impulse had made up when they first started teaming up, completely idiotic and reckless.

Sadly, it was also their best chance at unlocking this thing. He looked to impulse and said, “Do it,” with a sigh.

Impulse grinned and Red stepped back, grabbing the other two heroes and pulling them with him. Imp needed some room to work and RR wasn’t eager to get hit with superspeed, even by accident.

“What’s he gonna-”

Blue Beetle was cut off when Impulse started zooming, tapping the wall at supersonic speed, touching every millimeter of it, doing patterns and different pressures. It was a technique they’d thoroughly tested back in his universe. Pure brute force. Disgusting.

“Is this really gonna-”

Blue Beetle was once again cut off as the wall split open, revealing an elevator.

“Huh,” he said before reaching up to scan the small room. “I’m not getting any alarm signals. We should be fine.” He looked over his shoulder at Red Robin, nervous, as if he expected some argument.

“Then let’s get moving,” Red said. He’d been on a team with different flavors of hero for long enough to know that it’s okay to rely on powers. Sure, that could bite you in the ass every once in a while, but ignoring them all together usually just slowed down a mission and lead to more loss.

They stood in silence as the elevator descended floor after floor, ready to pounce the second the doors opened.

The scientists scattered throughout the lab were clearly not expecting visitors because they stared in wide-eyed shock while Impulse zipped behind them and knocked them out one by one, Blue Beetle right behind him, stapling them to the ground.

It was a good thing that Bart was on top of things because Tim was standing in the elevator, staring blankly at the lab. He’d known that this was about Lex being connected to the alien invasion. He hadn’t expected to see thousands of gallons of the yellow liquid he’d stolen.

“We need samples,” he said, shaking himself from his stupor. “And data, we need to start collecting this data. Whatever logs they have. Honestly just download everything. We’ll sort through it later.” He was rambling.

“Blue, come over here and help Red Robin hack into this stuff, Impulse, you’re with me. We’re taking as much of this stuff with us as we can.”

Tim blinked at the man beside him. He’d never seen Conner so… leaderly. Sure, he’d heard him giving out orders over comms a few times, but he mostly stayed quiet during missions, only interjecting when he wanted to irritate Tim or had a stupid one-liner to say.
Conner looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “Get moving.”

“Right,” Red Robin nodded.

The hacking wasn’t hard, but there were a lot of different terminals, and data seemed to be the only security they actually took seriously. If it was just firewalls then he could deal with it, but it was mostly physical measures. Slowing them down, probably giving the others time to automatically delete.

Red didn’t have to worry about that though because Blue Beetle was plugged into all of them at once. His arm was a weird mess of cables but RR didn’t question it, those beetles were weird as fuck.

“Almost done!” RR yelled over his shoulder, looking to check on the other's progress. He turned just in time to see Impulse zoom by.

Except this wasn’t a normal zoom. He’d been in this universe long enough to adjust to his friend’s new speed or lack thereof. But this wasn’t that. This was Bart, launching across the room at full speed, lightning arcing from both his steps and his body, racing up the opened cylinders of chemicals, tearing through metal and cables and everything else it touched.

“Up!” Tim yelled as the glass shattered. He leaped onto the nearest table just in time for the flood of chemicals to sweep under him, electricity sparking across the liquid’s surface.

What the fuck was that. He looked around, trying to figure out what was going on. How had Bart done that?

A conversation came back to him at that moment. Bart, fresh out of a training session, looked at Tim as nervous as could be, admitting that he no longer had a connection to the speed force. The single entity that seemed to dictate the chaotic lives of every speedster ever. And he just didn’t have it.

The knowledge had been just another thing to pile onto the weirdness of this universe. And at the time his main concern with it hadn’t been Bart’s speed, just the fact that his friend couldn’t run him home.

Now? Now he needed answers. He was kicking himself for not looking sooner. Figuring out why the hell this powerful force hadn’t had the same influence here that it did in every universe he had ever seen.

Loud shouts from Conner broke him from his thoughts, dragging him back to the mess. “Red Robin! Stay put, I’m going to grab you!” He registered it just in time to look over and see Superboy hurtling toward him.

“What the-” he was cut off as Superboy made contact, knocking the wind out of him.

Red pawed at the other man the second they came to a crash, unable to muster up any more strength as he gasped for air. “Why,” he choked out through gasps and coughs.

Superboy stood up and suddenly the reason was incredibly evident. The chemicals had melted the fucking table. They were still sizzling and bubbling as they tried to eat away at the floor.

“Impulse!” A shout drew Tim’s attention. “Impulse! Come on, wake up! Impulse!” Jaime was shaking an unconscious Bart. He’d launched himself right into a wall, crumpled by the force of his own speed, leaving a bloody dent in his tracks.

Blood dripped from his friend’s head and Tim’s world narrowed to a single point. He moved on instinct, nerve-striking Conner in the leg when the clone tried to hold him back. The scattered tables, desks, and chairs made a clear path across the room and in just a few seconds Tim had reached his destination.

Jaime was still shaking Bart, trying to wake him up.

Tim stood there, frozen. He knew first aid. He should do something. Except all he could see was that fucking funeral. The crowds of people coming to mourn Bart, an entire city silenced by his death. Yet none of them knew him. They’d all weeped but none like him.

He fell to his knees and crawled the last few feet, cradling Bart’s head in his lap when he got close enough. “This isn’t funny dude,” he said, Tim said, brushing his bloody bangs from his face with one hand and taking his pulse with the other. “You’re alive, buddy. So wake your ass up. We’ve gotta head out.”

He tried to keep his voice steady. Firm. Like he was giving orders. Bart hadn’t always responded best to orders, but ever since his knee, he’d been better.

Tim was about to say something else when Bart stirred, letting out a low groan.

“Impulse,” He said, keeping that same commanding voice. “Open your eyes. I need you to tell me what happened.” Tim ignored the pang in his heart as he said it. He should be asking if his friend was okay. But that answer was obvious. The other answer, well that was the real trouble.

“Seriously!” Jaime was loud, clearly freaking out. “What the hell was that!”

Bart groaned again, shifting in Tim’s lap, looking up at him. His goggles were cracked and Tim could see his big green eyes, more vibrant than they were just a few minutes ago.

“The speed force. I can feel it.”

Notes:

I am so sorry for the late update I promise I am trying to update on Wednesdays. This chapter kinda fought me tbh but I think I am happy with how it turned out. The TimKon was fun, they are moving at a snails pace but I am enjoying it lol

I love my baby Bart but honestly, once I got to the injured Bart section of this it was actually so easy to write lmao

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! As usual, feel free to comment, whether that's showing some love, speculation, or just threatening an update out of me! I might not reply to all but I read and love them <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of All Robins Need a Nest