Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Timothy Jackson Drake got his first camera at eight years old. 

Just a simple Sony Alpha a1600, the one with good autofocus. A good “beginner” camera. One could argue this is an odd gift for an eight-year-old, but in all fairness, Tim was an odd eight-year-old. 

Being left to his own devices (i.e being left alone at eight to care for himself) Tim quickly became very attached to his camera.

It was almost like a way for him to unscramble the world around him. To pick up on details he might’ve missed. Like the cracks in the cold tile, the way light moves across the artifacts the Drakes have on display, and the increasing forehead wrinkles between his dad’s brow as he looks at him in a mixture of confusion and frustration. 

Tim’s parents have that expression a lot when they look at him. 

When his teacher assigned him to read Sherlock Holmes, Tim was suddenly introduced to the wonderful world of detective work. Tim absolutely detests reading, but somehow the stories of London's Greatest Detective absolutely captivated him.

He wanted more.

He began consuming all kinds of mystery and detective media. He started watching shows (because readings for chumps) like Criminal Minds, NCIS, and Leverage, and when he ran out of predictable fictional media, he started watching true crime documentaries. Then YouTube video essays. Then he found the message boards, Reddit threads, and sketchy websites that he had to get a VPN to access. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Crimes were like puzzles, and Tim loves solving puzzles. 

He found r/Gothamunsolved, basically a compilation of cold cases the GCPD had all but given up on. 

And so Tim Drake solves his first crime at nine years old. 

It was a simple missing person case. Sixteen-year-old Avery Willows had disappeared after a study session with her friends at Gotham Library. The police assumed that she simply ran away with her boyfriend, as the security footage showed her hopping on the back of a motorcycle with her presumed boyfriend. Her friends and family insisted that it would be incredibly out of character for her, but either the cops were too lazy to do anything, or worse,

They were in on it…..Tim was quickly learning that the GCPD was incredibly corrupt.

Tim couldn’t believe this case was unsolved. 

It was so simple! All Tim had to do was to do some light social media stalking, put in a request to see the library security footage, and when that was denied sneak into the security room himself, write down the plate number, track down the motorcycle, find out the motorcycle belongs to a man named 'Allan Farnsworth', do some intense social media stalking, find out 'Allan Farnsworth' isn’t a real person, snap some pictures, print some receipts yadda yadda yadda, badda bing badda boom you uncover a trafficking ring. 

Tim had a sizable case file by this point.

The entire time, he was distantly aware that if he turned his evidence in as nine-year-old Timothy Drake, the police wouldn’t take him seriously (that much was evident by the library security laughing at him when he asked to see the security footage). So instead, Tim gathered up all his evidence, placed it in a manila folder, and slid it under the door of the GCPD precinct. 

Avery Willows was found two days later, along with three other girls who had been missing for months. “Allan Farnsworth”, real name Nicolas Armen, along with four other accomplices, had all been arrested. 

Tim’s chest had swelled with pride when he heard the news. Not only did he solve the puzzle, but he also helped people. Like actually helping, not just one, but multiple people! It felt— good. Really good actually.

Maybe he could show his parents what he did? Would they be proud?

No. 

That would be drawing attention to himself, and he should never draw attention to himself. 

So Tim could just...help from afar. 

He didn’t stop at the Willows case. He continued to pick up cold cases. Armed with his notebook, skateboard, camera, and bus pass, the world's littlest detective continued to slip manila folders under the GCPD’s door with answers to cases even veteran detectives couldn’t begin to chip away at. 

Then one night, after his tenth birthday, he saw them. 

A flash of yellow streaked across the Gotham skyline as Tim was trying to snap pictures of a drug deal. The deal had been going south. Tim had been bracing to possibly witness a murder instead of a drug deal when that flash of yellow suddenly leapt from the building. 

It was a kid! A kid in a bright and colorful costume is currently punching the daylights out of the unsuspecting drug dealer. Then, from a shadow Tim hadn’t realized was even there, emerged a truly imposing figure. A man, tall, with broad shoulders, dressed as a bat with an imposing scowl. Tim had heard rumors, of course, they were all over the internet and being passed in hushed whispers by the criminal underbelly. Rumors of a “Batman” and his kid sidekick, whom they called “Robin. 

Tim was in awe. He slowly raised his camera, snapped a photo—

And promptly became obsessed with the local Gotham cryptids, Batman and Robin. 

Tim scoured the internet. Forums, YouTube links, and even more sketchy websites (Tim’s gonna need a stronger VPN)

Once again, it wasn’t enough. 

He began to follow Batman and Robin.

At first, purely by coincidence. Tim was also tracking down thieves and goons to snap some evidence, so it was only a matter of time before he saw them again. He would continue to take pictures as he watched in awe of Batman and Robin saving the day over and over again. This was better than any detective show Tim had ever watched. 

Okay, was his obsession a little creepy? Well, maybe. Did he have to have a murder board full of pictures he took of Batman and Robin in the back of his closet? 

Well, probably not. But that never stopped Tim.

Tim wasn’t really sure what he was looking for exactly. Was he trying to find out if they meant harm to the city? Obviously not. Tim had been following them long enough to certify them as “good guys”. Punching creeps and kissing babies, or whatever. Commissioner Gordon even had a radio channel just for Batman, and Gordon was one of the few commissioners left in Gotham who wasn’t completely and totally corrupt. Robin’s giggle struck fear into the hearts of goons and drug dealers alike! After dealing with the danger, Batman would stay behind to comfort children and families, and even give spooked dogs one or two pats on the head. Robin kept Dum Dum suckers in his utility belt. Tim really wanted a candy from Robin.

So then was Tim trying to uncover their identities?  

Well, that was actually really easy. 

From a few videos and news reports Tim had found, he deduced that Robin was actually two people. Or more likely, Robin was, like a position, a role that can be passed down to someone. The “old” Robin was taller than Tim’s Robin (is it weird to call him Tim’s Robin?), had more of an acrobat build with long, lean muscles. He also had shorter hair, a neat and tidy haircut compared to the floppy curls the other Robin sports. The Robin Tims been stalking  tracking was a bit shorter, broader in the shoulders. Their fighting styles were different, too. The old Robin seemed to rely more on kicks and distraction techniques, whereas the current Robin seemed to like to use his fists and more direct hits (if the picture of Robin knocking a drug dealer's tooth loose that Tim took was anything to go by, at least). Batman, however, was most definitely one person. He remains the same in all the videos, even in early videos of the Batman when there wasn’t a Robin in sight. 

Tim hit a breakthrough when he found 

The flip video

While scrolling through a blog dedicated to the clearest videos of Batman and Robin, Tim found a video that made pretty much everything click into place. The video was probably the clearest he had ever seen of the first Robin. He leapt into the air, and—

pause 

Tim couldn’t believe it. 

He slowed down the footage. Then he counted 

1, 2, 3,,,,, 4 

Four rotations. A quadruple somersault in the air. It suddenly triggered a memory in him.

Tim was four. His parents were getting too many questions, so they decided The Drakes needed a “family outing”. They went to see the “Flying Graysons”. Tim had gotten distracted because he was an idiotic four-year-old and got separated from his parents. He was crying, like a baby, when a young boy in an acrobat uniform approached him. 

“Hey it’s okay! No need to cry! Where are your parents' little friend?”  

“What? No,why would you be in trouble?” 

“You wanna see a cool trick? Only three people in the whole world can do it! And you’re looking at number three~”

Well, considering that the other two people who could do that trick are…well…uh-dead…that left Tim with one option. 

Dick Grayson. 

Dick Grayson was Robin.

That meant Batman…

The timelines all matched up. Dick Grayson’s parents die tragically when he’s eleven. Bruce Wayne, kind-hearted billionaire philanthropist, adopts him. Batman goes quiet for a year (assumedly to adjust to Dick) then suddenly Robin appears on the scene fighting by Batman’s side. 

It would make sense. Bruce Wayne is a billionaire and a genius; he could fund and build all of his Batman gadgets.

But Dick Grayson had turned eighteen and had moved away, charting his own course….so that makes this Robbin…

Jason Todd. 

Bruce Wayne's newest "charity project,” the media had bitterly called it. Maybe Bruce adopted Jason just so he could have a new Robin? 

No, that can’t be right. 

Tim had seen the way Bruce and Jason interacted at the galas his parents sometimes (reluctantly) brought him to. Bruce very clearly cares about Jason, the way he futzes with his tie, tries to smooth down his curls, and how he gently teases the boy. Tim totally doesn’t watch them with the smallest pang of jealousy in his heart. 

So Bruce Wayne A.K.A Batman and Jason Todd A.K.A Robin 

The Waynes. A.K.A

Tim’s neighbors. 

Yup. Drake Manor and Wayne Manor were on the same street as other billionaire houses. Jason was just a grade ahead of Tim (Tim skipped two grades)

Holy cow Batman. 

He would never tell though. 

1. Gotham needs Batman. Tim has seen it first-hand and has the photos to prove it
2. …..who would believe him? 

Bruce Wayne?? Batman?? People would laugh in his face!

He was also ten, so there was also that issue. 

This information didn’t necessarily stop Tim from stalking and tracking the vigilante duo. It only really changed two things. 

1. Tim could now follow them on their whole patrol because now he knew their starting point (Wayne Manor)
2. This was gonna make galas even more awkward. 

.............................

It was a cold, wet, miserable day.

In typical Gotham fashion, the city had decided to change seasons overnight. One day, it was hot enough to melt asphalt; the next, it was raining sideways, and everyone was pretending forty degrees was a normal temperature for September.

And Gotham Prep Academy was going on a field trip.

Tim thought they had permanently banned field trips. Putting several dozen rich Gotham children into a single vehicle sounded less like an educational opportunity and more like a metal tube full of ransom payments being served up on a silver platter.

Apparently, however, they considered field trips "enrichment" and “good for children.” 

The destination was the Gotham Industrial Museum. The school crammed every seventh and eighth grader onto a fleet of buses and sent them on their way.

Tim Drake found himself trapped in a freezing metal tube alongside none other than his idol.

Robin.

Or, more accurately, totally-normal-average-orphan-turned-billionaire Jason Peter Todd Wayne.

Yes, Tim knew his full name. No, that did not make him a stalker.

Unfortunately, this also meant Robin, Gotham's boy wonder and certified menace to criminals everywhere, currently had a front-row seat to Tim getting absolutely humiliated.

"Come on, pip-squeak!" Elliot called, tossing Tim's camera over his head. "You want your camera back, don’t you?"

The camera sailed neatly over Tim's ​​outstretched hands.

Aiden caught it with a laugh.

"What? Too short?"

Seriously? Making fun of his height? That was low-hanging fruit. (hehe, wait, low hanging. SHUT UP, TIM)  

Tim was eleven. They were thirteen. Of course, he was shorter!

He jumped again as the camera flew over him.

Okay.

Maybe he was a little short for his age.

Tim clenched his jaw. He wanted his camera back, not because it was expensive; he left his expensive Batman and Robin camera at home, but because he'd planned to use it at the museum. The security system there was notoriously outdated, and Tim wanted photos of the camera placements.

Just in case. 

The camera flew through the air one more time 

And a hand shot up from between the seats and caught it cleanly.

The hand disappeared behind the seats. Then Jason Todd stood up.

"Knock it off, dipshits." His Crime Alley accent still bleeding through even after living with Bruce Wayne. 

The bus went quiet. (Well, as quiet as a bus full of middle-schoolers could get.)

Jason shoved past Elliot's seat and stepped into the aisle, camera in hand.

Then he held it out.

"Here ya go!" He smiled. 

Tim stared.

Robin had retrieved his camera.

Robin was standing three feet away.

Robin was talking to him.

Tim's brain promptly blue-screened.

"Uh..."

Excellent start Tim. Great first impression. Though humans usually make noises other than “uh” when expressing gratitude. 

"Thanks."

Jason grinned. His lopsided Robin grin. 

"No problem, kid."

Behind him, Elliot slumped back into his seat. He folded his arms in front of himself and huffed. 

"Oh, look at big bad Todd trying to play Batman."

Jason's head whipped around so fast Tim was concerned that he would pull a muscle.

"You wanna repeat that?" Jason asked pleasantly.

The pleasantness was somehow the scary part.

Elliot sank lower in his seat.

"Big bad Elliot Nivels," Jason continued, mocking Elliot's tone of voice, "picking on a kid two grades younger than him. Real impressive."

"Actually, I’m eleven—"

Tim was ignored.

"Young gentlemen!"

Mr. Shorts' voice cracked through the bus.

"We have not even left the parking lot, and you four are causing a ruckus. Must we begin disciplinary action already?"

"No, sir," the boys chorused.

Aiden immediately abandoned ship and climbed back into his seat, but not before muttering, “Nice going dweebs— way to not take a joke…”

Tim was still staring at the floor when something nudged his shoulder.

He looked up. Jason was grinning at him.

"Hey."

Tim's heart stopped.

"Don’t listen to those guys. They’re bein stupid.” Tim smiled at that.

“Wanna sit in the back with me?"

And that was how Tim Drake found himself sitting in the back row of a freezing school bus beside Jason Peter Robin Todd Wayne.

Okay. That might have been too many names.

"So!" Jason said cheerfully. "Tim, right? Drake? I've seen you at those stuffy rich-people parties."

Tim snorted. "Galas."

"Right. Those." Jason rolled his eyes dramatically.

"Nice seeing somebody there who wasn't five hundred years old and trying to pinch my cheeks."

Despite himself, Tim laughed.

Then Jason added, "Haven't seen you or your parents at one in a while."

The laughter died immediately.

Tim looked down at the camera in his lap.

His parents were... somewhere.

Moscow, maybe? Or Zurich.

Or Singapore.

Honestly, he wasn't sure anymore.

But that line of conversation usually ended with someone calling them. Which inevitably led to them calling him.

Which inevitably led to a lecture about being more independent. 

"Oh, you know," Tim said, fiddling with the cuff of his blazer. "We've just been busy. School and stuff and—"

Something flickered across Jason’s face, but before Tim could dwell on it too long Jason stretched his arms above his head. 

"Eh, you're not missin much."

He leaned his head against the rain-speckled window.

…………………….

Jason quickly discovered two things about Tim Drake.

One: Tim was funny.

Two: Tim was way meaner than he looked.

Tim, in his slightly too big uniform and eyes the size of dinner plates, had a very…innocent look to him. He was small, even for an eleven-year-old, but that just made Jason underestimate him even more. 

It started when Elliot turned around in his seat for approximately the fifteenth time.

"You two gonna braid each other's hair back there?"

Tim didn't even look up from his camera.

"No."

Elliot smirked.

"No?"

"We're discussing whether or not you could survive being dropped into the Gotham River."

Jaso​​n choked on air. Elliot blinked then his face turned tomato red.

"What?!"

Tim finally glanced up. He smiled, then held up his camera, pointing the flash directly into Elliot’s eyes. The flash caused him to yelp and fall back into his seat.

"The current is pretty strong. Not to mention the chemicals."

Then he returned to adjusting his camera settings.

Jason was full on cackling at this point. That's when Aiden leaned over the seat.

"What's your problem, Drake?"

Tim frowned thoughtfully. "Currently? You. Overall? You'd have to be more specific."

Jason immediately buried his face in his hands to hide a grin.

Okay.

Maybe Tim was hilarious. Unfortunately, Elliot took this as encouragement.

"What's so funny?" he demanded, finally rubbing the stars out of his eyes from when Tim essentially flash banged him.

Jason began to giggle again. 

“Todd?” Aiden all but growled 

"Nothing! Nothing!” Jason snorted “I'm just imagining what it'd be like if Drake pushed you into the river."

Tim nodded thoughtfully.

"I'd probably need a running start. Aiden I could probably take but Elliot’s built like a brick house."

Elliot sputtered.

Aiden looked between them.

"Are you two always this weird?"

"No," Jason said.

"Yes," Tim said at the exact same time.

Jason laughed.

Tim smiled despite himself.

The bus lurched over a pothole.

Jason nearly slammed face-first into the seat ahead of him.

"Ow."

Tim blinked.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

The sound surprised both of them.

Jason pointed accusingly.

"You're making fun of my suffering."

"It’s very easy to do. You’re very dramatic."

Jason clutched his chest dramatically.

"I rescue one camera and this is the thanks I get."

Tim rolled his eyes.

"Rescue is a strong word."

"I heroically recovered your property."

"You took it from two middle school bullies."

Jason sat up straighter. He put a fist to his chest and looked thoughtfully out the window.

"I faced incredible odds."

"The odds were two idiots." Tim raised an eyebrow.

"There were two of them and only one of me."

Tim stared.

Jason stared back.

Neither broke.

Finally Tim sighed.

"Your sacrifice will be remembered."

"Thank you."

"Briefly."

Jason barked out another laugh.

For a moment, Tim forgot to be nervous.

That realization hit him about ten minutes later.

He was making a friend. The thought came completely out of nowhere.

Tim stared down at his camera.

Then slowly looked over at Jason.

Jason was currently balancing a pencil on his upper lip.

Why? Tim had absolutely no idea. The pencil fell, but Jason caught it before it hit the floor.

Then he looked around to make sure nobody had witnessed his failure.

Tim slowly turned his camera to Jason and–

Snapped a picture. 

At first Tim was terrified that Jason was immediately going to be weirded out. But then…

He started to pose for Tim. Increasingly ridiculous poses. The final shot Tim got was mostly just Jason’s nostrils. Jason then demanded to see the picture to check if he had any bats in the cave.

Friend.

The word felt strange.

Not bad.

Just... unfamiliar.

Tim had acquaintances, sure. Kids who knew his name, kids he occasionally worked on projects with, kids who gave him a polite wave at him in the hallway.

But actual friends? Not really.

It was hard to make friends when most people thought you were weird.

Or annoying.

Or both.

And Tim was aware he could be a lot. Especially when he got excited.

That’s why his parents never took him anywhere

Most people didn't appreciate being told seventeen facts about Gotham's sewage system during lunch.

Jason, however, had spent the last fifteen minutes listening to Tim explain why Gotham's public transportation system was secretly fascinating.

Voluntarily.

Tim wasn't entirely sure what to do with that.

His gaze drifted back to Jason.

For years, Jason Todd had existed in Tim's head as Robin.

Robin who fought armed criminals, Robin who jumped off rooftops, Robin who laughed while outrunning danger.

Robin who saved people.

Robin who carried lollipops in his utility belt.

Robin.

But sitting beside him now was just...

Jason.

A kid. A kid who kept making ridiculous jokes, a kid who smiled easily, a kid who had gone out of his way to help someone smaller than him.

The realization settled warmly in Tim's chest.

Robin was incredible. But Jason was really cool, too.

"Whatcha lookin at?"

Tim nearly launched himself through the bus ceiling.

Jason grinned.

Apparently, he'd been caught staring. Wonderful.

"Um–nothing."

Jason narrowed his eyes.

"That's suspicious."

"You were balancing pencils on your face."

"That has nothing to do with anything."

"It has everything to do with everything."

Jason gasped.

Tim immediately knew he'd won.

"You wound me, Drake."

"You'll survive."

"Will I?"

"No."

Jason nodded solemnly. “Whelp, I leave my estate to my goldfish, Mr Goldie” 

Aiden threw a crumpled piece of paper at Jason's head, ruining the somewhat tender moment. 

Jason picked up the paper, looked at it…. Then threw it directly back.

It hit Aiden square in the forehead.

Tim laughed so hard he nearly dropped his camera.

…………..

They finally arrived at the museum. The teachers began pairing off students to be “accountabilibuddies”. Mr. Short usually just assigns whoever the student was sitting next to on the bus. 

Which meant Tim and Jason were paired together. 

Tim almost begins to vibrate.   

The Gotham Industrial Museum was exactly as exciting as it sounded. Which was to say that most of the students immediately began complaining.

"It's just a bunch of old machines."

"This is so boring."

"Why couldn't we go to the aquarium?"

Tim, meanwhile, thought it was awesome. Maybe Tim’s parents were right; his interests were boring.

Massive steam engines towered over the exhibits. Early Gotham inventions sat behind glass displays. Entire sections were dedicated to the city's rail systems, shipping industry, and electrical grid. The electrical grid exhibit alone was fascinating.

Jason noticed him staring and smirked a little. 

"You actually like this stuff?" He said, blowing a lock of hair out of his eyes. 

“I mean—I find it…cool?” Tim began to shrink in on himself 

This did not escape Jason’s notice. He smiled at Tim before glancing around the giant room.

"Tim."

"Yeah?"

"It's a museum about infrastructure."

"...."

Jason sighed and slotted next to Tim, bumping his shoulder a little. 

“I’m not qualified to unpack what’s going on in your strange little brain but—” 

Jason looked down at Tim with nothing but complete earnestness in his eyes. “Why do you find it cool? Enlighten me Timbo.” 

“Timbo?” Tim smiled 

Jason just made a “go on” gesture with his hands, while Tim started to sheepishly explain how the Gotham speed trains are powered, then slowly became more enthusiastic. Jason nods and hums along. 

The next hour passed surprisingly quickly.

Well.

Quickly for Tim.

Jason mostly followed behind while Tim bounced between exhibits.

"Did you know this steam engine powered almost half of Gotham's shipping district?"

"No."

"And that it exploded twice?"

"Why would it explode twice?"

"The first time wasn't enough, apparently." Tim’s lips did a little quiver. “And well…uh, Batman launching Mr Freeze into it probably didn’t help…” 

Jason laughed.

Tim felt oddly pleased.

As they moved through the exhibits, Tim occasionally raised his camera.

Click.

A photograph of an old machine.

Click.

A photograph of a historical display.

Click.

A photograph of a security camera mounted in the corner.

Jason noticed, of course, and raised an eyebrow. He ultimately decided not to question it, deciding long ago that Tim was just weird like that. 

Tim added another note to his notebook.

Camera 7 has blind spot near north stairwell.

Purely academic.

Obviously.

……………………….

Elliot and Aiden appeared like particularly annoying ghosts.

"You carrying around your little diary again, Drake?"

Tim looked up from his notebook.

"Yes. Because I’m actually literate, unlike the present company. "

Elliot rolled his eyes.

"What are you even doing?"

"Taking notes."

"Why?"

Tim genuinely didn't know how to answer that. Fortunately, Jason answered for him.

"Because, unlike you, he can read."

Aiden immediately made an offended noise.

Jason grinned.

"Oh good. You understood that one."

Tim nearly choked trying not to laugh.

Elliot pointed at Jason.

"Why do you even hang out with him?"

Jason shrugged. "He's funny. And he can actually hold an intelligent conversation, unlike you idiots."

Tim blinked.

The answer hit him harder than it probably should have.

Funny. Nobody had ever called him funny before.

Weird? Yeah. Annoying? Intense? Sure.

But funny?

That was new.

Something warm settled in his chest.

Then he immediately shoved the feeling away because feelings were weird.

The electrical exhibit was the largest room in the museum. Wayne Enterprises had just installed a new power grid through Gotham using geothermal energy instead of burning fossil fuels. Because of this, WE also sponsored this exhibit. Massive transformers lined the walls. Interactive displays demonstrated how power moved through Gotham. Overhead lights reflected off polished metal.

Tim lifted his camera.

Click.

He frowned.

The image flickered.

Just for a second, the digital screen distorted. Then it returned to normal. As if nothing happened.

Tim blinked.

"Huh."

"What?" Jason asked.

Tim checked the camera.

Nothing. The image looked fine.

Maybe a battery issue?

He snapped another photo. Once again, there was nothing out of place.

Tim frowned. The camera was functioning normally, yet he'd definitely seen something.

A brief burst of static. Like electrical interference.

Tim slowly looked around the room. The exhibit hummed with power as thousands of volts moved through the displays.

Maybe that was it. Still...

Something felt off.

His fingers tightened slightly around the camera.

Across the room, one of the lights flickered. Just once. Nobody else seemed to notice.

Students continued wandering through exhibits while the tour guide continued explaining something about Gotham's early power infrastructure.

Another flicker.

Longer this time. Tim's stomach twisted.

Not fear exactly.

More like...

Recognition.

When evidence contradicted itself. When something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Jason?"

"Hm?"

"Have you noticed the generators have stopped humming?"

Jason immediately stopped walking.

Tim noticed the change instantly.

His shoulders stiffened.

His eyes swept the room.

Suddenly, he didn't look like a middle schooler anymore.

He looked—

Tim cut that thought off immediately. Because if he finished it, he might accidentally say something.

Jason's gaze tracked across the electrical displays.

The flickering lights. The transformers. The generators.

His expression darkened.

"Yeah," Jason said quietly.

Another light burst. This time, sparks showered from the ceiling.

The entire room went silent.

For one brief moment, everyone froze.

Tim and Jason locked eyes.

Neither of them knew exactly what was about to happen.

But both of them knew one thing.

Something was very, very wrong.

Then the main transformer exploded. 

The teachers suddenly leapt into action. 

This was Gotham, however, so the students already knew somewhat what to do. 

“Students! Follow field trip evacuation Plan B and wait for further instructions!” Mr Shorts frantically instructed. 

Field Tip evacuation Plan B was “get to cover, we don’t know the threat yet, but once it is identified, we can continue with Plans D through Z.” That way, if it’s safer to be indoors, they’ll be indoors; if it’s a “get out now” situation, they can all leave together. 

Tim noticed Jason slipping into Robin mode. He immediately seized Tim’s wrist, pulling him underneath one of the interactive tables. Tim barely had time to even let out a yelp before Jason had him pushed into a corner, shielding him with his body. 

Mr. Shorts immediately lost control of the field trip. Which, to be fair, wasn't entirely his fault. The giant electrical supervillain was not helping the situation. 

A second later, a bolt of electricity slammed into the display above them. Metal groaned and glass shattered, raining down on the poor students desperately trying to reach the exit.

"Okay," Tim said out of breath. 

"Okay?!" Jason hissed as another screen exploded above them. Jason immediately ripped off his blazer and stretched it above them like an umbrella, shielding them from the falling sparks. 

"Well…maybe not okay. But–"

"Definitely not okay!"

“But—we can work with this!”

“What on earth could that possibly mean!”

Another explosion rocked the room. The museum lights flickered violently.

Above them, a man's voice echoed through the exhibit hall.

"Wayne….Wayne replaced Gotham's power grid!"

Tim blinked.

"Oh, it’s Voltage!"

“Duh–there's electric explosions hap—I mean–” Jason suddenly caught himself "Oh no! Voltage?!” 

For all of Jason’s theatrics, he was a really bad actor. 

"I spent YEARS becoming one with Gotham's electrical infrastructure!"

Another blast.

"And then Wayne Enterprises replaces it with sustainable energy alternatives!"

Jason and Tim slowly looked at each other.

"...that's why he's here?" Tim asked.

"He did just say it out loud."

"That's a terrible reason."

"Most villains' motivations are terrible."

"Fair."

Above them, Voltage continued ranting.

"I WAS A THREAT TO THIS CITY!"

More sparks.

"NOW I'M A HISTORICAL FOOTNOTE!"

Tim frowned. His eyes drifted toward a nearby display plaque, the destroyed transformer, and finally toward the Wayne Enterprises logo mounted on the wall.

Then back toward Voltage.

The pieces clicked together almost instantly.

"Oh no, I figured it out." Tim said, holding his camera to his eyes, using the zoom feature to track Voltage as he moved throughout the exhibit. 

Jason arched a brow. 

"Tim?"

"He isn't actually targeting people…he's targeting the exhibit."

"That’s still bad, Tim."

"He just wants attention…like a cranky toddler." Tim, fully in detective mode and not in control of his body, began to climb over Jason to try to get a better look at the villain. Jason squeaked in shock and attempted to shove him back

“A cranky toddler with the ability to make things explode! That’s really, really bad!”

"He keeps aiming at the electrical displays instead of the crowd."

Jason grabbed both of Tim's shoulders.

"Stop analyzing the supervillain!"

Another explosion. The table above them shook.

Jason risked a glance over the edge. The exits were jammed with students as the teachers were trying to evacuate everyone. Voltage was floating near the massive central generator exhibit.

And Jason desperately needed to become Robin.

Unfortunately.

Tim Drake existed. Jason couldn't just leave him, not with a supervillain rampaging through the building.

"We need to go. Get to a safer hiding spot."

Tim looked up from where he was pointing his camera directly at the rampaging villain.

"Right we need to do something!"

"What?"

"What?"

Jason stared. Tim stared back.

"No Tim we need—" Jason pinched the bridge of his nose. He needed to make sure Batman was en route. 

"Stay here."

"Okay."

Jason narrowed his eyes.

"Really?"

"No."

"Tim I swear to god—"

Tim pointed toward a hallway.

"The museum's main breaker system is probably back there."

Jason felt his soul leave his body.

"No. Tim?"

"If I shut off the power—"

"No."

"—Voltage loses access to most of the building's infrastructure."

"No."

"—which means fewer explosions."

"NO!"

Tim looked offended.

Jason looked exhausted.

"Tim."

"Jason."

"You are eleven."

"You are thirteen."

"That’s! That’s irrelevant—!"

"How?"

Jason opened his mouth.

Then closed it. Then opened it again. Then closed it.

Because, unfortunately, he couldn't explain why. Not without revealing a very large secret that he promised a certain bat he would keep.

Tim nodded smugly. "I thought so."

Jason wanted to throw something.

………

Three minutes later, Jason discovered something important.

Tim Drake has no sense of self-preservation.

Jason had looked away for approximately five seconds.

And somehow Tim was already halfway across the exhibit hall.

"TIMOTHY!"

Tim just gave him a thumbs up and continued doing….whatever the hell he was trying to do.

Jason nearly had a heart attack.

"GET BACK HERE!" He whispered-shouted from where he was still crouched in their hiding spot. 

"I HAVE A PLAN!" Tim whsiper-shouted back. 

"I’m beginning to really NOT LIKE YOUR PLANS!" 

Tim continued jogging toward the maintenance corridor.

Jason considered screaming.

Tim knew that Batman must be on his way. Hopefully, by getting out of Jason’s hair, he could slip away and Robin up. Tim needed to keep Voltage focused on the exhibit. So far, he wasn’t hurting visitors, just the exhibit. Tim intended to keep it that way. 

By the time Tim reached him, Voltage was still ranting.

"Wayne Enterprises thinks they can replace me with solar panels?"

A bolt of electricity exploded from his hands.

"I'LL SHOW THEM!"

"Uh…hello!” Tim called up to him. 

Voltage blinked.

The entire museum blinked.

Jason resisted the urge to facepalm.

Because standing in the middle of the exhibit hall was an eleven-year-old boy.

Waving. At a supervillain.

"E-Excuse me!" Tim called.

Voltage stared.

"...what?"

Tim pointed at the destroyed exhibit.

"You…you're upset about the new energy initiative?"

Voltage immediately straightened.

"I–-Yes!"

Tim’s plan was…was kind of working? Jason couldn’t leave without Tim, but he also knew he shouldn’t waste this opportunity that Tim had so very conveniently created for him. Tim had said the main breaker was down the maintenance hall. While Tim was causing a distraction, Jason could sneak down there and cut off Voltage’s main source of power. That would give him and Batman more time to detain him. 

Jason groaned. He'd better not regret this. 

He began to attempt to make his way to the maintenance hall. 

"Uh–W-well" Tim continued. "There are other ways to complain without de-destroying stuff, you know!!" Tim attempted to puff up his chest to hide how scared and small he actually felt.

Voltage’s lips split into a sadistic looking smile. The air around the became more electrified than before. Tim felt his hair sticking up. 

"Oh? And how do I go about doing that, small fry?” 

Tim audibly gulped. But he won’t back down. He needs to buy Jason time.

"Uh— well…I-If your message is 'traditional power infrastructure matters,' blowing up a museum exhibit kinda–well– undermines your position."

Voltage raised his hand into a fist, causing the screens around them to flicker. He began to slowly float towards Tim. Tim began to retreat backwards…but kept his eyes on Voltage

"H-Have you considered a petition?"

Voltage laughed.

“A Petition?!”

"Or maybe an awareness campaign."

Voltage was right in front of Tim now. Tim squinted up at him as the surrounding electricity made it hard to look directly at the supervillain. 

Before Voltage could get another word in.  Tim raised his camera. He placed in directly in front of Voltage’s face and

Snapped a photo

With the flash on the highest setting. 

Voltage, clearly not expecting it, yelped and yanked his face away from Tim. Tim took this opportunity to dive out of the way and take cover. 

He couldn’t believe the trick he used on his middle school bullies worked on a supervillain. 

Voltage rubbed at his eyes as he let out a roar of frustration. Tim hid behind the wall leading ot the exhibits. 

Suddenly, all the electricity, including the lights, shut off.

Jason did it! Tim thought. His plan actually worked. 

Suddenly a bat-a-rang sored through the air. 

It was dark so Tim couldn’t see most of the fight, sadly. But he’s sure he heard both Batman's and Robin’s voices as he was being shoved out the museum exit with the rest of the students. 

The fight ended quickly after that.

A few smoke pellets, A batarang and one very angry former electrical engineer later, Voltage was subdued and ready for the GCPD to haul him back to Arkham. 

Done.

Tim’s class was hurriedly being ushered onto the bus. Mr. Shorts is frantically counting all the students. He realized that he was down a student. 

“Timothy!” He called desperately, stopping Tim from loading onto the bus. “Where’s Jason? He was supposed to be with you!” 

Jason was currently occupied talking to Commissioner Gordon about hauling Voltage off to Arkham. But Tim couldn’t say that. Instead, Tim put on his best “I’m currently an eleven-year-old-boy-in-shock face” and just shook his head. He’s pretty sure he heard Mr Shorts mutter, ‘damnit’ under his breath. He let go of Tim’s shoulders and began racing to the other teachers when 

“Mr Shorts!” 

It was Jason. In a rumpled Gotham Prep uniform, out of breath, and his hair slightly spiky. 

“Mr Shorts, I’m here!” Jason called out of breath, “I lost Tim! I was looking for him. 

Relief washed over Mr Shorts’s face. “That’s great, Jason, let’s just get on the bus,” Mr Shorts wheezed out, clearly the adrenaline from having maybe lost a student in a supervillain attack wearing off. 

Jason grabs Tim by the crook of his elbow and starts hauling him onto the bus. 

The second they were out of earshot of the teachers, Jason rounded on him.

"Dude."

Tim blinked.

"Jason?"

"What. Is. WRONG with you?"

Tim looked genuinely confused.

"I’m not following.”

Jason sighed. He leaned forward onto his elbows. The bus driver was driving much faster than they were on the drive over. Jostling the kids inside, and causing Jason’s elbows to occasionally slip off his knees. 

"You walked up to a supervillain??"

"I had a plan."

"You used your camera as a weapon against a Gotham supervillain," Jason replied dryly

"That…. was part of the plan."

Jason stared.

Tim stared back.

Jason made a noise that sounded like a cross between a laugh and a groan. 

"It worked." Tim offered 

“That is so not the point Timbo.” 

“Timbo?”

"You could've gotten killed!"

Tim frowned.

"But…he wasn't targeting civilians."

"How did you know that?" Jason’s eyes looked earnestly concerned. Like…he was actually worried about Tim. 

No one is ever worried about Tim.

Tim immediately regretted opening his mouth.

Because the answer was that he was profiling him while hiding under a table. Which isn’t exactly a normal thing for an eleven-year-old to do.

So instead, he shrugged.

"Lucky guess?"

Jason looked deeply unconvinced.

"Tim, this is serious. You could’ve gotten hurt. Like. Really. Really badly."

Tim shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was the first time he had ever gotten a lecture like this. Jason didn’t know that Tim spent his nights trailing him on rooftops in the shadows. Analyzing criminals and their patterns. He has no idea that Tim could build a complete physiological profile on Voltage right now. 

So Tim continued to not make eye contact with Jason. Opting to pick at the flaking leather of the bus seats. 

Jason, sensing the shift in Tim’s demeanor, sighed. He stretched his hands above his head and groaned.

"You know what the worst part is?"

Tim lifted his head slightly. 

“W-what?”

"I kinda admire it."

Tim blinked, finally looking Jason in the eyes. 

Jason smirked, "Don't get excited. I still think you are incredibly stupid."

"I wasn't—"

"You were."

"I wasn't."

Jason dramatically flopped to lean against Tim, causing the smaller boy to get shoved up against the window. 

"You're nuts."

"You’ve mentioned."

"Like genuinely nuts….But in a kinda cool way. Not many nine-year-olds standing up to supervillains.” 

Tim frowned. 

"Dude, I told you. I’m eleven.” 

Jason looked startled. "Dude, you're like… tiny."

"I'll have you know I’m very average for an eleven-year-old."

"I’m like, a whole foot taller than you!"

“Well, yeah! You’re thirteen!” 

“You’re like pocket-sized!”

Tim gasped. Offended. 

Jason grinned.

The rest of the bus ride passed surprisingly quickly after that.

Mostly because Jason kept alternating between calling Tim reckless and accidentally praising him.

And Tim kept accidentally smiling whenever Jason did.

When they finally reached Gotham Prep, chaos was already waiting. Parents crowded the parking lot as Teachers were giving statements to both the crowd of high-profile rich parents and the crowd of reporters. 

The moment the bus doors opened, students were practically dragged off by relieved adults.

Tim gathered his things and slunk to the back of the hoards of tearful reunions and hungry journalists hoping for exclusives. 

Tim knew that there was no real reason to wait. There would be no Drake limousine. No driver. No parents. Not that he'd expected any. Still, something unpleasant twisted in his chest. 

"Your ride late?" Jason asked, suddenly sliding up to stand beside him.. 

Tim looked away, scratching at his cheek. 

"Something like that."

Jason frowned.

Most kids would've immediately called their parents after a supervillain attack. Tim hadn't called anyone.

That was weird.

"You need to borrow my phone? I can call–”

"No."

The answer came too quickly.

Jason narrowed his eyes.

Tim immediately regretted it.

"I mean–My um…My nanny should be here. Any minute now. My phone just–uh–died.” 

"Tim?"

"Yep?"

"That's a lie."

Tim sighed.

Unfortunately, Jason was apparently observant Tim should’ve known he would be. That was annoying.

"M-my parents are…out of town..” Tim eventually mumbled. They’ve been out of town for the past two months. 

"Oh."

Jason's expression softened immediately.

"Business trip?"

Tim nodded.

Technically true. He actually wasn't entirely sure what country they were in this week.

Jason looked toward the nearly empty parking lot. Then back at Tim. Something clicked.

"You were gonna walk home?"

Tim immediately became very interested in his camera strap.

“W-well…I could call an Uber?” 

“Timmy.”

“Don’t call me Timmy.” 

“Timothy, you were not going to walk home after you got attacked by a supervillian.”

"It's not that far!"

"Timbo."

"It's like forty minutes."

"Timbit."

"I have a skateboard. And what’s a Timbit?"

Jason looked personally offended.

Before Tim could defend himself further, a familiar black car rolled into the parking lot.

A Rolls-Royce.

Jason suddenly groaned beside him 

“Oh God, here we go,” Jason mumbled under his breath. 

The car stopped.

And Alfred stepped out.

Tim probably shouldn’t know who the Waynes private butler is. But after hearing about a mysterious “Agent A” Over the batcoms (hehe batcoms, that was a good name for them), Tim had done a bit of stalking research. 

And then Bruce Wayne practically launched himself out of the passenger side.

"Jason!"

Tim blinked.

Bruce Wayne was in full Concerned Parent Mode.

Which was honestly a little jarring after only just seeing him as the Big Bad Bat.

Jason immediately groaned.

"Oh no."

Bruce crossed the parking lot in record time.

"Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Did a doctor check you?"

"B."

"Jason."

Alfred arrived several seconds later, looking considerably calmer.

"Master Jason."

"Hey Alfie,"

Tim watched the exchange quietly.

Something warm settled in his chest. Bruce looked ridiculous.

But also...

nice.

Jason was being fussed over.

Someone had shown up. Someone had been worried about Jason.

Tim quickly looked away. This was getting weird.

The reports are now focused on Gotham’s hottest tabloid topic fawning over his adopted son, which is the perfect opportunity for Tim to slip away so he can get back home before dark. 

Tim took exactly one step backwards, reaching into his backpack for his skateboard when, 

"Absolutely not."

Tim froze.

Jason was looking directly at him.

"...w-what?"

"You're trying to escape."

"Escape?"

Jason rolled his eyes.

“Tim why don’t you come back to the manor with us? Aren’t we like neighbors?? Come have dinner, then we can drop you off back home! Whenever there's a supervillain attack at school, Alfred makes chicken Alfredo!” Jason beamed. 

“O-Oh–” Tim’s ears turned a little pink. 

His parents' words about being an “inconvenience” and “intruding” suddenly echoed in his ears 

“I-I…appreciate the offer–but I wouldn’t want to intrude–” 

“You’re not intruding!” Jason cut in, “I’m inviting you! Come on Timbit, I promise Alfred’s cooking alone is worth it. I also have like…every gaming console known to man.” 

Alfred suddenly appeared behind Jason, placing his hands on his shoulders 

“Master Timothey? Was it?” Alfred began “I do believe what Master Jason is trying to say is you truly wouldn’t be inconveniencing us at all. In fact you would be doing me a great favor because I always seem to cook more than Mastor Jason can manage.” 

Tim opened his mouth to try to politely decline again when he felt a strong hand on his shoulder. 

Tim looked up and 

Oh gods. 

Bruce Wayne was staring down at him. 

Bruce, Batman, Wayne. 

“Tim! It’s been a while! Last time I saw you, you were with your parents at the Gotham charity gala…” Bruce smiled. 

“Oh! Uh yea..H-hello Mr. Wayne!” Tim suddenly jerked to face Bruce. Big mistake. Tim somehow found this more intimidating. 

“Not to beat a dead horse, but it would really be no trouble hosting you, Tim. Especially if you don’t have a ride. I’m sure Jason would love company that isn’t just Alfred and me for once.” 

“See Timbo! Everyone agrees! Now come on! I call dibs on Peach in Smash!” 

Before Tim could respond, he was suddenly being pulled towards the Rolls-Royce. 

Tim decided that maybe, maybe just this once? Just once, he can indulge in “family time” Right? It’s not like his parents are going to find out!

Why doesn’t he want his parents to find out? 

So Tim lets himself be pulled. Lets himself be buckled into the back seat next to Jason. He lets himself be led into a warm and cozy manor. 

Lets himself have dinner and a game night with 

A friend.