Chapter Text
Tim was no stranger to waking up in a League of Assassins base with a pounding head and no idea how he got there.
The new part was waking up with a child hovering over him.
He blinked a few times to clear the fog from his vision and noticed the dark skin and sharp green eyes of his kind-of-sort-of-brother-who-is-constantly-trying-to-kill-me, Damian. Except this Damian was significantly smaller than the one Tim was familiar with and at least a couple years younger.
He let his head thump back down onto the bed that his wrists were bound to. He hated time travel. Or multiverse travel. Add that to the list of things to figure out.
“Want to tell me what I’m doing here?” he asked, not expecting an answer. It didn’t take him long to test the chains around his wrists and subsequently start picking the locks. That further cemented his theory that this was not the version of Ra’s that he knew, especially considering that he had been left in the Red Robin suit. Ra’s knew better than to underestimate him this much. That being said, any version of Ra’s would be more careful than this.
To his surprise, the child (Damian? It was probably Damian, but it wouldn’t be his first time dealing with clones.) stepped forward and began to speak.
“Grandfather says you will be an asset to the League. He has brought you here to evaluate your usefulness.”
Damian’s statement confirmed it, he was being tested right now. Tim could think of no other reason for Ra’s to leave him barely restrained with only Damian as guard. Didn’t matter. The fact was that this Ra’s felt the need to test him, which meant that this Ra’s had no idea what he was capable of, and that was a weakness that Tim could capitalize on.
After all, that was the most important lesson Lady Shiva had taught him.
First things first though, he had a small child to take care of. Risking retaliation, Tim calmly sat up and let the chains fall.
“Hello, Damian.”
The way the child stiffened when he said his name solved that mystery.
“How is it you know my name?” he demanded, shifting slightly into a fighting stance and drawing his katana.
Tim had no doubt that he could easily disarm this Damian, but his real strength had always been his ability to calculate odds and manipulate those around him. The softness on Damian’s cheeks and in his eyes was something he could use. Plus, there was no way he would leave a child, even one that he hated, in the care of the League of Assassins. Damian was coming with him.
“Didn’t Ra’s tell you? Guess he doesn’t want you knowing.” A little on the nose, but also one of Damian’s insecurities. Damian craved trust and had a strong desire to be useful. This also would confirm that the grandfather Damian had mentioned was Ra’s. He didn’t actually have any doubt, but it was always safe to double check when possibly in the wrong universe.
The slight furrow of Damian’s brows told him that it had worked.
“I am sure that Grandfather has disclosed all necessary information to me. Additional information will be supplied as needed.” His katana dipped a little unconsciously.
“Yeah? How often are you told that one?”
Tim stretched his arms upward, hearing his back pop in several places before standing up and rolling his neck.
“I am still in training. I am certain that one day I will be properly proclaimed as Grandfather’s heir, and as such, will be given unrestricted knowledge about the riff-raff lurking around our bases.”
‘Ah, there’s Damian’s signature charm.’
Tim lazily turned his back to Damian and took a few steps to work the stiffness from his legs.
“Proclaimed heir to the League of Assassins? Does your father know about that?”
Back still turned, he heard Damian suck in air. Tim closed his eyes and smirked slightly.
Hook.
“My father?” came Damian, a touch of desperation in his voice.
Line.
“Yeah. Actually, once I get out of here I’m gonna go visit him for a bit.” He let a bit of mock surprise fill his voice, “Oh, did you want to come with?”
Sinker.
Another one of Damian’s insecurities: Bruce. Tim wasn’t sure how much Talia had told Damian about Bruce at this point, but he was willing to bet it wasn’t enough to satisfy Damian’s desire to meet him. He just had to make sure that it would be enough to outweigh his loyalty to the League. Not an impossible task. He didn’t actually have to make Damian think he was betraying them so much as he had to convince him that it was his birthright to know his father. Once he delivered Damian to Bruce (and god he hoped there was a Bruce here), Bruce could take care of the rest.
Damian fumbled slightly. “Well— My father, I— It’s—,” he took a deep breath, before he managed to speak coherently, if a bit strangled. “You know my father?”
Tim simply turned and nodded in response.
“What’s he like?” Damian looked a little taken aback by his own question, as if it hadn’t been the one he meant to ask, but he forged onwards. “Mother has told me that he is a brave and stern man. That he is strong and capable and decisive. Is this true?”
Seeing the vulnerability in his eyes was the first time Tim allowed his mental calculations to falter since waking up. Tim didn’t like the brat, but this Damian had certainly not tried to murder him. Yet, at least. The fact remained that this child, for all his familiarity, was, in essence, a stranger. He had no idea who Tim was. He was just a kid that wanted to know about his father. The thing was though, Tim’s recent interactions with Bruce, and the rest of the family, had been strained. After a year of being called crazy ended only by plucking Bruce from the timestream, Tim had been… pushed aside, so to speak. He didn’t blame them. It wasn’t their fault that Tim had outlived his usefulness. He had always been a fill-in anyways. Or, as Jason put it, 'Replacement.’
He realized he had been silent a few seconds too long so he walked over to Damian, dropping to a knee and noting that the katana was all but completely lowered.
“Yes, he is all of those things. He is brave and stern, but also kind and compassionate. Strength tempered by a desire to use that strength to help others. Would you like to meet him?” Technically true, even if that compassion was never aimed at Tim. But it would be towards Damian, and that was all that mattered right now.
“I have yet to obtain permission from Mother to know Father’s identity, nor to leave the base at this moment.”
“Oh. I suppose she doesn’t trust you enough for that information either?”
Damian hesitated.
“Isn’t it your right to know who your father is?” He walked over to the door. “I’m leaving with or without you, do you want to come with and meet him?”
“Yes.”
That was a lot easier than he expected it to be. He supposed this Damian was younger and not as indoctrinated as his other self had been when they first learned of him.
“Decisive,” Tim remarked, testing the door to see if it was locked. It was.
“Capable,” Damian replied, watching as Tim swiftly picked the lock.
They shared a small smile. ‘ Huh ,’ Tim pondered, ‘ Maybe this Damian is more different than I thought.’
“Alright, kid, what can you tell me about the base. Where are we?”
“I am not a child and you shall not speak of me as such.” Damian waited for Tim to nod in acknowledgement before he continued. “We are in a League base located in Egypt.”
Tim hummed, searching through one of his suit compartments. “The one in the mainland or the one on the Sinai peninsula?”
Damian paused. “The base on the peninsula.”
“Huh, haven’t been to this one before. In the mountains, and the nearest city should be what? Nekhel, right?”
“Yes. Nekhel is located at the base of the mountain range.”
“Probably too obvious though. We’d be better off contacting someone to pick us up using the League’s systems than we would making a break for it.”
“I should be able to lead us to a communications center, but there will be guards along the way.”
“Lucky for us, we’re not going that way.”
The vents were cramped. Damian and his stupid tiny shoudlers seemed to have no trouble, but Tim was struggling a bit. For once in his life, he was grateful for his smaller-than-average stature.
Now, crawling through the vents wasn’t an outstanding, never before seen plan. It’s kind of an obvious alternative. What wasn’t were the EMPs he had set off to disturb any cameras inside the room and outside in the hallway, and the small ball he had rolled into the hallway set on a short timer to deploy knockout gas. Really, Ra's underestimating him made this all too easy.
Together, the EMPs, gas, and unlocked door would make it look like they had tried to escape via the hallway. It wouldn’t hold up to any hard scrutiny, but it would buy them time.
And time was all they needed.
Tim handed Damian a modified rebreather that covered the nose and would filter out any unwanted gas. Quietly opening the vent, he slipped another knockout gas ball into the communications room and waited for them to fall. He dropped down and hurried over to the large computer, Damian close behind. He unceremoniously shoved the unconscious guy who had been sitting there out of the chair, taking the seat for himself. Luckily, the guy was already signed in so Tim wouldn’t have to hack the system.
Well, he was still going to, but that was besides the point. Tim was itching for a reprise of the demolition that he had caused to the League’s systems in his original timeline/universe. He pulled out a drive that he had pre-programmed with the necessary coding just in case he ever had the chance to do this again and stuck it into the computer. Working quickly, he used the unconscious man’s login to contact a secure line that his version of Batman used, hoping it would work.
It did, but it wasn’t Batman who picked up.
It was Robin.
“Heyyy, B— Wait, who are you?”
The dim lights of the Batwing made it hard to tell which Robin it was, or if it was even a Robin that Tim was familiar with, but the red, yellow, and green were unmistakable.
“Robin, we require an immediate extraction,” and he followed by rattling off a ten-digit code that Bruce had reserved for ‘cases of temporal or spatial disturbances caused by rare instances of time and/or multiverse travel,’ as he so succinctly put it. Dick, on the other hand, called it the ‘hinky code’ because it let them know something hinky was going on.
Robin was obviously a bit thrown, but he recovered quickly. “Okay, tracking your location now. Oh, shit,” he said, sounding pleased.
“What?”
“I’m not too far from you guys, I was actually just on my way to Ethiopia. At top speed, I can make it there in about half an hour.”
Blood began to pound in Tim’s ears. That was Jason. Baby Jason. Pre-death Jason.
Robin Jason.
And he had been on his way to Ethiopia.
There was no time to dwell on that, but he couldn’t help it.
Out of all of his so-called family members, Jason was the only one that his relationship with had actually improved in recent months. That was mostly because the bar for improvement there was so low, but still. He wouldn’t exactly call them friends, but Jason was no longer trying to kill him which was more than he could say for Damian. Jason had been his Robin. The one he spent years following around Gotham with a camera. The one whose death changed his life. And this Jason just narrowly escaped that same death.
“So what’s the situation?” Jason asked.
He shook it off and gave Jason a rundown while he hooked the channel up to a pair of earpieces, one of which went to Damian, and viciously activated the program on the drive.
“Oops,” he smiled. “Come on, kid, let’s go.” Damian glared at him. It was adorable.
At this point, there was no way the League didn't know they got out, but their systems were in shambles, the cameras were all down, and they had no idea that Jason was coming. Even if they did guess he would contact someone for help, they had no way of knowing how close Jason was. They’d be expecting them to try to make a break for it, maybe to that city, Nekhel. But here, Tim was in control. All they had to do was burrow down until Jason got there and they’d be home free.
Well, Tim would still need to figure out how to get home, technically, and he really wasn’t sure why Damian was still on his side, but all of that could be dealt with later. For now, he had to get them outside. Back to the vents it was.
Damian was not sure what to make of the strange man (boy? He looked and sounded young, but his voice and shoulders were weighed down by something heavy, and the mask hid his eyes). He desperately wanted to meet his father, but he couldn’t help but feel he was betraying the League by collaborating with the… enemy? He really didn’t know who the strange man was. He was given no information or instructions except that he not speak to him and not let him escape.
Damian failed on both accounts, but he couldn’t help but be surprised that he had known his name. His very existence was a carefully guarded League secret. And then, the man had mentioned his father. Mother had not given him any concrete information about him, but she had told him about the kind of man he was. She hadn’t mentioned any of the traits that the man had, however, which made him curious.
And now, he was standing with the man, collaborating on the best route to escape. It was clear from the way he spoke that the man (and really, he had to find out his name) was well versed in League operations. Even Damian hadn’t been aware that there was more than one base in Egypt.
Damian really didn’t know why he was doing this. Did he want to meet his father that badly? The League would give the world to him on a silver platter, and he was throwing it all away for a man that he didn’t even know the name of, and the vague hope of meeting his father, who he coincidentally also did not know the name of.
He was currently leading the man through the ventilation system towards the nearest exit, but one of those issues could be solved right now.
“What is your name?”
The man was quiet for a moment. “Call me Red Robin until we get out of here, but…” He paused, considering. “My name is Tim.”
They finally reached a vent that led into a small ground floor storage room filled with art supplies. Damian would sometimes come here to replenish his own stock. The most important feature of the room was the window that could be opened and used as an exit. He figured it would be less conspicuous than one of the main exits, and most of the League wasn’t aware it was here.
They dropped in and Timothy pressed a button on the earpiece. “Robin, what’s your ETA?”
“About two minutes. Small problem though. Even if I could find someplace to land in these mountains, it wouldn’t be safe to. I’ll have to drop a ladder down and you’ll have to hold on.”
“I figured. We’ll exit the West side of the base in approximately one minute.”
“Copy that.”
"Timothy, who is this Robin that is in charge of our extraction?”
“No names in the field.” He blinked as if it was an automatic response. “He’s… your father’s partner, so to speak. He’ll take us to meet him.”
Damian wasn’t entirely satisfied with that answer, but it was time to go.
He unlatched the window and hopped out onto the ground, noting the dark plane rapidly closing in on the base with a long rope ladder unfurling below it. His eyes met Timothy’s. They’d have to time this exactly right.
The plane swooped by, the weighted base of the ladder almost sweeping the ground, and they jumped for it. Once they latched on, the plane sped up, gaining altitude and trying to get away as fast as possible.
Damian wasn’t expecting the change in velocity and his grip slipped as the ladder was dragged behind the plane rather than remaining relatively vertical.
‘This will be my death,’ he thought, ‘and a pathetic one at that.’
But he didn’t even have the chance to fall. Timothy reached out with one hand and grabbed his ankle. Being suspended upside down in the air at an incredible speed with his only tether being a hand on his ankle was an entirely different and more potent kind of fear.
All he could focus on was the ground below him and the shout Timothy let out when the force of catching Damian wrenched his arm. A few seconds later, the plane slowed slightly, the base far in hindsight, and allowed Timothy to drag Damian back to the ladder which he immediately latched onto. The ladder began retracting back into the plane, taking them with it. His position below Timothy gave him an unobstructed view as to how he favored his left arm, which worried Damian slightly.
They reached safety and collapsed through the opening.
“Thanks, Jay,” Timothy coughed out.
Jason’s mother was alive.
Not Catherine, the woman who raised him.
But his birth mother was alive.
And he was going to meet her.
Now, he may not have been using common sense when he told Bruce he was going to Mount Justice and then stole the Batwing so he could fly to Ethiopia, but he figured Bruce would forgive him given the circumstance.
He was going to meet his mother. Jason felt giddy with excitement.
Then the signal went off on a line that only the Bats knew. Dick was currently offworld so Jason thought that would mean Bruce or Alfred. He was wrong.
The interaction that followed was a little odd, but they had used the hinky code, so now Jason’s plans were derailed to go save a couple of strangers. He should probably tell Bruce. Oh well.
Half an hour later, Jason was flying a plane with two people desperately hanging onto the flailing rope ladder he had extended. Not his brightest idea, he’ll admit that.
When the two of them finally collapsed into the ship, the older one coughed out a quick, “Thanks, Jay.”
Okay, so he knew his name. Not entirely surprising, but still jarring. Now that the cargo was safe though, Jason had to do what he’d been putting off since he first received their singal: call Bruce.
Jason really didn’t want to do that.
The Batwing really wasn’t all that big so it only took the other guy like two steps to enter the cockpit. Maybe he could put off calling Bruce under the guise of gathering more information. Jason barely opened his mouth to speak before the guy cut him off.
“Nope. I know that look. Call Bruce.”
Then a ring went off. Turns out Jason didn’t even have to call Bruce. Bruce was calling him.
He answered and was overwhelmed by Bruce babbling something about… the Joker? And Ethiopia? Jason didn’t know what he was talking about, but he had never heard Bruce so much as stutter, much less babble. The guy was seriously panicking.
“Whoa, chill out, B, I was just about to call you.”
“You’re safe?”
“I mean, yeah, unless one of the hitchhikers I just picked up is about to murder me.”
“You… picked up hitchhikers in the Batwing?”
At that point, the guy leaned into the camera’s view and once more rattled off the hinky code.
“Time or multiverse travel?” Bruce asked.
“Not sure yet, could be either. I only woke up here about an hour ago. My name’s Tim.”
“You’ll understand that I’ll need to detain and question you when you arrive?”
“Naturally.”
“Robin, you mentioned hitchhikers plural. Who else is there?”
“Hold on a second,” Tim said, reaching back to pull the child, who looked nervous, into the frame. “This is your son, Damian. Surprise, it’s a boy.”