Chapter Text
Gotham at night is febrile, the streets overflowing with the kinds of activity that shun the stark light of day. Drug deals, muggings, and every kind of petty crime proliferate in a frenzy that only quiets down as dawn approaches and the nighttime denizens of Gotham return to the shadows.
By all rights, Tim should prefer the daylight and the mostly honest workers who dominate the streets during those hours. He doesn’t. For one thing, it’s much harder to hide during the day, and the last thing he needs is word of his activities to somehow make it back to his distant but well-meaning parents.
For another, Batman only comes out at night.
Tim really likes taking pictures of Batman. There’s nothing quite like the thrill of moving through the city, wiggling and climbing his way to places that are definitely off limits, and then lining up the perfect shot. He has a whole box—locked and trapped to the best of his limited ability, of course—filled with photographs of Batman and Robin, engaged in battle with their various foes. The lighting is always tough, between Gotham’s cloudy weather and the dim, occasionally broken or missing streetlights. Good thing he likes a challenge.
Tonight, he crouches beside a solemn-looking gargoyle, tucked under a flying buttress on the side aisle roof of an imposing gothic cathedral overlooking the Sprang River. It’s one of his favorite spots to watch for Batman, located on the southern edge of Robbinsville and therefore within a reasonable biking distance from home. Amusement Mile is even closer, but that’s out for obvious reasons. A photo isn’t worth whatever would happen if the Joker ever caught him poking around his territory.
Buzzing with pleasant anticipation, he sets up his camera, aiming it at the rooftops of the warehouses to the east where Batman usually passes on his way through the Bowery. He only runs this particular patrol route once a month, as part of the random-looking rota of patrols he maintains. It took Tim months to work out exactly when Batman would be here, what with the constant interruptions to the routine caused by various rogues, threats to the city, and events in Batman’s personal life.
In fact, he probably wouldn’t have been able to put the pieces together at all if he hadn’t figured out Batman’s secret identity. He huffs quietly, mildly annoyed that it took a chance observation of Robin doing a stupidly idiosyncratic flip for him to realize the boy wonder is actually Dick Grayson, which makes Batman Bruce Wayne.
Tim likes to think he’s intelligent, with the incisive wit and avid curiosity of his mother paired with his father’s single-minded focus and dedication to the topic of his choice. It’s irritating that he solved Gotham’s biggest mystery by chance instead of careful sleuthing.
Oh well.
Batman comes into sight, covering the distance from one rooftop to the next with flying leaps as his cape flickers and swoops, merging with the shadows around him. It’s like watching the darkness itself move.
Tim shivers, only remembering to take a picture when Batman has already moved past his hiding spot and Robin is right in front of him. He wonders what’s on the agenda tonight. Batman seems focused, more so than usual when he’s just patrolling for whatever petty crime might catch his eye.
Sirens wail in the distance and a bright light bursts into being, illuminating the underside of the clouds. The Batsignal.
Heart racing with anticipation, he crawls toward the edge of the roof and makes his way carefully back down the rain gutter. Sometimes, Gotham’s weird architectural quirks really come in handy, like the extra thick, sturdy metal rain gutters and seemingly pointless little decorative elements that make such excellent hand- and footholds.
Once he’s at ground level, Tim pulls out his phone and scans chirper for weird happenings under the Gotham hashtag. He hits paydirt immediately, but as always, there are so many things happening it’s hard to zero in on the right one. Break in at the museum, drunk driver going the wrong way on the Trigate Bridge, weird smell on Seventh, Poison Ivy sighted in Robinson Park, blurry photo of what might be Killer Croc in a sewer but could also be one of the actual alligators that live down there ever since that incident at the zoo—
Ivy seems the most likely bet. Tim sighs, disappointed. There’s no way he can peddle fast enough to make it to Robinson Park in time to see anything interesting. He needs to work on his endurance. Of course, he’s only ten and a quarter years old. It’s not unreasonable to have to make minor allowances for his developing muscles and frame.
Well, maybe he should apply himself to figuring out a better way to get around the city. For now, though, he’ll head home. Batman and Robin aren’t going to be coming back this way, not for a long while.
He pops his earbuds in, tunes in to the police scanner, then hops on his bike and starts peddling. At least he can try to listen in on the action while he’s on his way home.
The first thing he hears is the dispatcher reporting a fire at a nightclub in the Diamond District. He listens without much interest as his gaze wanders to the streetlamps. Odd. They’re all flickering in unison. As he watches, he realizes they’re actually flashing at irregular intervals. Hmm, that’s interesting.
It takes him a few minutes to work out the Morse code, “When is the Minotaur's owner as high as an elephant's eye?” If that isn’t a message intended for Batman, he’d be very surprised. Only Batman brings out the eccentrics of Gotham quite like this. He puzzles over the question.
The only thing that comes to mind is the new amusement park that’s under construction outside the city, overlooking the shore west of the Robert Kane interchange. He hasn’t really given it much thought even though it’s so close to his house because there’s no way it’ll last long enough to really matter. The Joker is bound to break out of Arkham the moment he hears about a new amusement park just so he can take it over, most likely to stage some dramatic and terrible performance that will end up blowing the whole place to bits.
Now, though, it’s potentially very interesting. He checks the scanners again, suddenly wary of this actually being the Joker breakout. No, there’s nothing about an Arkham escape. Should he risk it?
The amusement park is right on his way home. All he has to do is take a left once he crosses the bridge, and he’ll be there. Surely he’ll be able to lay low long enough to figure out whether or not the Joker is involved. Anyway, the Morse code wasn’t really his style. Usually the Joker includes at least one or two bad jokes in his messages.
As he weighs his options, the Batmobile roars past him. He stares as the sleek vehicle crosses the Robert Kane Memorial Bridge toward the new amusement park. Well, it’s not like he can just peddle past and go home now that he knows they’re right there.
Decided, Tim peddles harder, a little thrill of excitement curling in his chest. His heart starts pounding even harder and it isn’t all because of how hard his body is working to keep the bike moving. Maybe he’ll get to see Batman solve a mystery, right up close. He might even be able to take some photos of whatever bad guy is involved.
As he hides his bike behind some prickly shrubs at the gate, he runs through what he remembers about this amusement park. It’s inspired by the popular Riddle of the Minotaur computer game, an MMORPG filled with brain teasers, mazes, and other puzzles for the characters to solve as they complete quests. The game’s okay, but Tim blew through the whole thing with just a few weeks of game play. He wishes there was a way to play it on extreme mode or something so it wouldn’t be so easy.
He glances past the roller coaster and ferris wheel to the funhouse and grimaces at the creepy clown face that acts as the entrance. Hopefully they didn’t go in there. Tim has no desire to walk into a terrifying clown’s gaping maw. That’s just asking the Joker to burst out of the woodwork and do something awful.
There’s no real reason to suspect that’s where the action is going down tonight, anyway. The clue mentioned the minotaur, so… He looks at the Greco-Roman style structure to the west. The Riddle of the Minotaur exhibit. That’s where they should be.
He catches sight of the Batmobile, parked at an angle in the shadow of the building, and experiences a wave of satisfaction. Now, he just needs to figure out how to get a look at whatever’s going on inside without anyone realizing.
Tim looks around, this time ignoring the exhibits and searching for something else. It doesn’t take him long to find the administration building. Like most of the park, it appears to be almost ready for the grand opening in a few days, with just a few finishing touches still being put in place. Like painting and carpeting, in this case.
The first thing he does when he finds the right building is look up. Bingo. Someone left a tiny window open, probably to air the place out after the last coat of paint was put on inside. Well, he’s pretty good at climbing buildings after all the practice he’s had. He gets a running start and makes it up high enough to grab the decorative ledge, and from there it’s easy to lift himself up and wiggle his way in through the small window.
He hops down using a conveniently placed bathroom sink to make his way to the floor, then sets about exploring. None of the doors are locked and there’s still painter’s tape on some of the baseboards and fixtures. Dang, maybe they haven’t even set up the security yet. If that’s the case, or if he guessed wrong on the building, then he’s wasted his time.
Fortunately, he eventually hits on the right room. The moment he swings open the door, his eyes widen at the sight of an entire wall of monitors. Belatedly, it occurs to him he’s very lucky the bad guy doesn’t have guards stationed in here. Whoops. These are the kind of things he should probably think about before exposing himself to possible danger.
Oh well. Some of the displays are dark or just show boring outdoor scenes throughout the amusement park, but others seem to be inside the various exhibits. It doesn’t take long to find the right one. The inside of the Riddle of the Minotaur exhibit is dark and foreboding. The perfect setting for a crime.
Silently, he reaches out and grabs a pair of headphones from the desk, plonking them on his head and then playing with the switches until he gets the right audio lined up. He watches with a creased brow as Batman and Robin fly through a grim concrete maze, solving corny riddles and dodging fire-breathing automated griffons and lethal boobytraps as they bandy words with a guy in a green suit who keeps projecting his image on the walls to taunt them and give them obvious hints. The Riddler, apparently, some new villain who seems to prize intelligence and enjoys intellectual puzzles.
It’s exciting to watch, but… kind of dumb, actually. Tim doesn’t think much of puzzles that are so easy to solve. If this Riddler guy really wanted to win, he shouldn’t be giving Batman so many obvious hints. The very best puzzles, after all, are the ones no one but the creator ever manages to solve.
“That’s dumb,” he mutters to himself as Batman on the screen solves another stupidly simple riddle and darts toward the center of the maze. “You should have used a harder riddle.”
By the time Batman and Robin finally reach the center of the maze and successfully save the businessman there—the owner of the company behind The Riddle of the Minotaur, who apparently earned the Riddler’s ire—Tim’s pouting at the monitors. “Batman kind of cheated, but still. This whole plan could have been pulled off so much better if that Riddler guy put a little more effort into it.”
He tilts his head, smiling slightly as he sees the Riddler wave a mocking goodbye at Batman as the villain manages to make his escape despite being defeated. Okay, so maybe this guy is a little interesting.
Tim can’t stop thinking about puzzles, even when he gets home. He lies in his bed imagining scenario after scenario in which he gets the better of Batman, the police, and even Gotham’s rogues with the intricate riddles and mysteries he crafts.
He’s pretty sure he could get away with it. After all, he’s managed to evade detection for the past year while following Batman around, and figured out the dark knight’s secret identity to boot.
And it’s not like he has anything better to do. His parents travel nine months out of the year and the rest of the time they’re at the office from dark to dark. The only exceptions are the occasional weekend days when they manage to scrape some time to awkwardly toss a baseball he doesn’t care about around with him (his dad) and cook a breakfast he loved when he was four but doesn’t really care for anymore (his mom).
He sometimes feels like he should miss them and wish they spent more time together, but he just… doesn’t. This is the way his life is, and he makes the best of it in his own way. The freedom is pretty nice, honestly. Only…
It does get kind of boring sometimes.
Well, maybe he can do something about that. Tim stretches out in his bed, reveling in the feel of expensive, soft sheets against his bare toes, and starts to plan.
He’ll call himself Puzzle.