Chapter Text
The mission on Earth-16 had been a standard "bust the Kroloteans" operation in a warehouse district in Blüdhaven. The Young Justice Team—Robin, Aqualad, Kid Flash, Superboy, Miss Martian, and Artemis—were mid-skirmish when the air began to scream.
"Aqualad! Energy readings are off the charts!" Robin shouted, his fingers flying across his wrist-computer. "It’s not Krolotean tech. It’s... it’s a localized chronal collapse!"
A jagged tear of white-hot light ripped through the center of the warehouse. For Robin, the light was terrifyingly familiar. It was the same light that had swallowed his older brother, Timmy Drake, nine years ago.
From the rift, four figures tumbled out. They landed with the practiced grace of apex predators.
"Drake, I am going to behead you for this," a sharp, youthful voice snarled.
"Cool it, Damian. Tim said the stabilizers were experimental," a second, more melodic voice replied.
As the smoke cleared, the YJ Team froze. Standing there were four men. One was dressed in a sleek, blue-and-black suit with a bird emblem. One was in a tactical red hood and brown leather. One was a younger, scowling boy in a regal Robin uniform.
And the last one...
The last one was a young man in his early twenties. He wore a charcoal-grey business suit, his tie loosened, and a heavy tactical belt visible beneath his blazer. He was rubbing his temples, looking utterly exhausted.
Robin’s heart stopped. "Timmy?"
---
The man in the suit looked up. His eyes, sharp and calculating, softened instantly. He looked at the thirteen-year-old Robin standing before him.
"Dickie," Tim Drake whispered.
"Tim?" Wally West (Kid Flash) skidded to a halt, his goggles lopsided. "No way. Rob, is that him? The brother from the circus? He looks... old. And like he works in an office."
"Who are you people?" Aqualad demanded, stepping forward with his water-bearers drawn.
The Comics brothers reacted instantly. Nightwing stepped in front of Tim, his escrima sticks humming. Red Hood drew his twin blasters, and Damian unsheathed a katana.
"Easy, everyone," Tim said, his voice carrying the authority of a man who ran a multi-billion dollar company. "Nightwing, Jason, Damian—stand down. These are the good guys. Mostly."
"Good guys?" Jason scoffed, his voice filtered through his red mask. "Replacement, the kid in the cape looks exactly like a pint-sized version of Dickie-bird. Is this a clone thing? Please tell me it’s not a clone thing. I’m maxed out on clones."
"It’s not a clone thing, Jason," Nightwing said, his mask-covered eyes fixed on his younger self. "It’s a multiverse thing."
---
YJ!Robin stepped forward, ignoring the weapons pointed at him. He walked right up to Tim. He had to look up to meet Tim’s eyes now.
"You vanished," Robin said, his voice cracking. "The night after my parents... after the funeral. I thought you were gone forever."
Tim knelt, oblivious to the fact that he was wearing a four-thousand-dollar suit in a dusty warehouse. He put his hands on the young Robin’s shoulders.
"I didn't have a choice, Dick. The tether that brought me here was tied to the trauma of this world. Once the Graysons... once it happened, the universe spat me back home. I spent years trying to find a way back to you."
"You look like a suit," Robin noted, wiping his eyes. "Are you a hero where you come from?"
"I'm a CEO," Tim said with a tired smirk. "But I moonlit as Robin for a while. Now I’m Red Robin. And these..." he gestured to the chaotic trio behind him, "...are my brothers."
"Wait," Artemis said, pointing at Nightwing. "If that's your brother, and he's Dick Grayson... then who is the scary one with the guns?"
"I'm the one who doesn't like teenagers," Jason growled.
"And I," Damian stepped forward, sheathing his sword with a click, "am the only legitimate blood son of the Batman. Drake is merely a stray we kept for his ability to operate a coffee machine."
The YJ Team stared. Wally leaned over to Dick. "Man, your family is weird in other dimensions."
---
The Kroloteans were long gone, having fled when the rift opened. The two teams moved to the roof of the warehouse. The Blüdhaven rain began to fall, a light drizzle that shimmered in the neon lights of the city.
Tim sat on the edge of the roof, his legs dangling over the side. YJ!Robin sat next to him.
"You did a good job, Dick," Tim said. "I see the way you lead them. You’re better than I was at thirteen."
"You taught me the math," Robin said, nudging Tim’s arm. "Every time I throw a birdarang, I’m calculating the wind resistance exactly the way you showed me in the practice ring."
Behind them, Nightwing was talking to Aqualad and Miss Martian. "So, you guys have a Team? Like a junior Justice League? That’s... actually a really good idea. We just kind of made it up as we went along."
Jason Todd was currently in a heated argument with Superboy about the merits of leather jackets vs. spandex, while Damian was staring at Kid Flash as if he were a particularly annoying insect.
"I can't stay," Tim said softly, looking at the young Robin. "The rift is already closing. My brothers and I... we don't belong here."
"I know," Robin said. He reached into his utility belt and pulled out a small, battered metal bird. It was the first emblem he’d ever made, a prototype. He pressed it into Tim’s hand. "So you don't forget."
Tim closed his hand over the metal. "I could never forget you, Dickie. You’re the reason I keep fighting, even when the office work makes me want to jump off Wayne Tower."
---
The rift began to pulse with a violent, violet light.
"Time to move, boys!" Nightwing called out. "The bridge is collapsing!"
Jason and Damian moved toward the light. Jason gave a two-finger salute to the YJ Team. "Stay gold, kids. Try not to let the bat-man break you."
Nightwing stopped in front of YJ!Robin. He reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. "You’re going to be a great man, Dick. Just remember: you don't have to be him. You just have to be you."
Tim stood up, straightening his suit. He looked at the YJ Team—the friends he had known in another life, the family he had protected when he was just a teenager lost in time.
"Goodbye, Robin," Tim said.
"Goodbye, Timmy," Robin replied.
As the Comics brothers stepped into the rift, Tim was the last to go. He looked back one final time, the CEO of a multi-billion dollar empire, the hero who had seen a thousand worlds, and the older brother who had finally found closure.
The rift snapped shut.
---
Tim Drake sat in his office at Wayne Enterprises the next morning. His suit was wrinkled, and he had a small bruise on his jaw from the inter-dimensional travel.
The door opened, and Dick walked in, carrying two extra-large coffees.
"Rough night?" Dick asked, sliding a cup onto the desk.
Tim looked at the small, metal bird emblem sitting on his desk. He picked it up, turning it over in his fingers. "The best kind of rough, Dick."
"He was a good kid," Dick said, sitting in the chair opposite him. "That version of me. He looked... happy. Despite everything."
"He had a good big brother," Tim said, finally taking a sip of his coffee.
"Yeah," Dick smiled. "He really did."
Outside, the Gotham sun was rising. Tim Drake, CEO and hero, went back to work. But for the first time in nine years, he didn't feel like he was missing a piece of himself. The boy in the circus was safe. And that was all the math he needed.