Chapter Text
Tim is pretty sure that his entire Gotham-based team needs to get a life. It's the precious handful of hours between dinner and patrol, when they could be working on hobbies or social lives or just vegging out, and yet here they all are. In the Cave.
Well, that's not exactly fair. Only about half of them are in the Cave. Bruce might only be upstairs sleeping off his broken ribs because Alfred threatened to sedate him, but Jason, Kate, and Luke are all somewhere else on their own accord. Tim is pretty sure none of them have started patrol yet, but he's not the one using the Batcomputer, so he can't check. They're probably out having civilian lives or something.
Duke and Barbara aren't here, either, but they usually skip the family dinners in order to be available as Signal and Oracle for daylight patrol. So that's a good half of the team that have lives, or at least are already working.
It's the rest of them that are pathetic. They'd all meandered aimlessly around the Manor for maybe ten minutes after family dinner before the first of them gave up and went downstairs.
It had been Damian, who has since taken up roost at the Batcomputer and shows no signs of giving it up to someone else for anything less than an alien invasion. He's either practicing his coding or playing a text-based video game, but Tim is too far away to tell which. Dick is hovering over Damian's shoulder, shifting from one foot to the other at least four times a minute - Tim is bored enough to time him, since he can't peek at Damian's screen from here.
Tim is ostensibly sorting through equipment, but he's already done so twice this week, so his mind has long since wandered to what everyone else is doing. Unfortunately, Damian's text-filled screen and Dick's fidgeting are the only things to look at.
Cass and Harper are somewhere in the Cave, although he doesn't have eyes on them anymore. Tim can't tell if they're stealth training or just playing hide and seek, but they're both way too good at whatever it is for him to keep track of them. Steph is sprawled out on the training mats and Tim had figured she was just catching her breath between katas, but at this point he's pretty sure that she's started to snore.
They could all be doing anything else. The sun hasn't even set yet.
And that's the kicker, because they'd be out in the city already if it was wintertime, and they'd at least be getting themselves ready if it were any other time of year, but it's the early days of July and the sun stays for hours longer than Tim has patience for.
Tim is idly thinking about taking up knitting or something when the Batcomputer chimes. One of the screens Damian isn't using lights up, and Barbara gives them a little nod from the video feed.
"Good, Dick, you're here," she says. Her tone is businesslike but not urgent. Tim comes closer to the Batcomputer anyway, setting aside the Batarang he'd been pretending to sharpen for the past twenty minutes, desperate for something productive to do.
"Yeah, I'm here," says Dick, seemingly unsure about whether he should be reacting to the statement as Acting Batman or as a human golden retriever.
"I need you to use the Batcomputer to access Birdsong. I could do it remotely, but it's going to be a lot faster on your end."
"No kidding," says Dick. He elbows at Damian. "Out of the way, bud."
Damian scowls, but he knows better than to argue with Barbara. He stubbornly stays seated in the desk chair, though, and only moves it far enough for Dick to access the keyboards. Dick, who doesn't care about personal space and who probably doesn't get back pain from leaning over a desk like that, accepts his fate easily.
"Whatever. I can finish it after patrol."
"What's Birdsong?" Tim asks, leaning against the edge of a worktable. Near enough to actually read the screen, but far enough away that he's out of Damian's reach. Just in case.
"It's what we used to use for our comms," Dick explains absently, pulling up a program that looks as old as Alfred. Tim knows that it can't be that old, obviously, but Bat technology has come a long way in a relatively short amount of time. Hell, regular technology has, too. Damian is staring at the screen like the program is completely alien to him. "Why do you need access to our old programs?"
"Just the one program," says Barbara. Her mouth pulls downward, not quite a frown. "Someone is pinging the old comm lines, and I need access to see why."
"Remote access granted," Dick tells her. "Mind if we listen in?"
"Well…"
"Aw, c'mon," Steph whines from over on the mats, the conversation having woken her up at some point. Tim bets that Cass and Harper are listening, too, even though he still can't see them. "Babs, we're going stir crazy. Let us in on your little mystery."
"Alright, alright," Barbara says, looking as though she's trying very hard not to laugh in their eager faces. "But you'll let me do the talking if you know what's good for you."
There's a smattering of agreement - two voices seem to come from the ceiling, but Tim isn't sure how the girls would have even gotten up there, so he's hoping it's an echo - and Steph comes closer, makes herself comfortable on the worktable that Tim is leaning on. She yawns right in his ear. He slaps at her shin.
The ancient program buffers for way longer than any of them are used to, and Dick looks like he's about to tell them all off about 'back in my day' or whatever. They're spared the lecture by Barbara finally connecting Birdsong to the mystery line.
"This is Oracle," Barbara says, almost cool in her professionalism. Tim isn't sure why she bothers when the vocal modulation is so strong already, but he's not about to start questioning Oracle now.
The speakers crackle for a moment, as though someone is fumbling the comm on the other end, and then a vaguely familiar voice fills the Cave.
"Uh, who? Tryna reach a Bat here, O, you must got the wrong line."
Barbara's professional facade cracks in shock. Dick's whole body tenses, obvious from the way he's still leaning over the desk. Tim looks at Steph and Damian, but they're not reacting to the voice.
Old program. Only the original Bats know the voice. Oh, this is a fun mystery. Tim runs through a list of potential suspects in the back of his mind.
It takes too long for Barbara to respond, and so the voice continues.
"Sure you're nice and all, O, but pops says I'm not s'posed to talk to strangers, so you wanna hop on another line there?"
It's likely a guy, definitely a Gotham native. The accent sounds like Duke's or Harper's, so probably he's from around the Narrows. What's weird is how young the stranger sounds. That doesn't quite match up to the other information Tim has.
Barbara puts a hand over her mouth. Dick finally moves, taking control of Birdsong and activating the comm in the Batcomputer.
"This is Nightwing," he says, even though he's technically Batman until Bruce's ribs are better.
"Oh," the voice replies, suddenly less enthusiastic. "Hey. B there?"
"No, it's - I'm -" Dick takes a deep breath. "Just me tonight, bud. What's going on? Are you in trouble? Do you need me to -"
"Christ, Wing, I'm fine, don'tcha mother hen me." This kid is definitely from the Narrows. And it's definitely a kid, the way his voice cracked on the word 'fine' like that.
Not that Tim's voice has finished cracking. He shakes that thought off, trying not to get distracted. So it's a kid whose accent sounds like Duke's - or Harper's - or Jason's, for that matter, but Jason also sounds like he's been dragged across the globe with the express purpose of seeing which speech patterns will stick - and it's a kid who knows about their night life.
"Did he get another one when I wasn't looking?" Tim asks the room at large.
"Maybe." Harper's voice comes from closer to the ground this time. "Think we should put a leash on him?"
"On B or on the kid?"
Dick shushes them before he hits the button to speak again. "You wouldn't call if you were fine, and we both know it. Where are you? Are you hurt?"
"Y'know, I'd really rather talk to B. You can pass me to Agent A if B's not there, but I -"
"Robin," Dick snaps, and that's all Batman. Tim feels his own spine straighten in response to the tone, and he watches Damian nearly leap out of his seat. "Give me a field report, now. This is important."
Damian looks confused, and opens his mouth like he's going to give a report - although what the report would be on, Tim has no idea - before he's cut off.
"Minor scrapes, nothin' broken, no head injuries," the stranger says dutifully. "Don't feel like I been drugged, but don't remember how I got here, neither. Looks like I'm at someone's safehouse. Guess it could be their regular house, if they like knives a lot. Nobody here. I was callin' for backup so I don't have to get benched again, but I don't need help."
The pieces must click for Steph first, because she grabs at Tim's arm with a death grip before his own brain catches up.
Kid from the Narrows. Uses old Bat technology. Answers to Robin.
"Holy shit," Tim breathes.
"Robin, you're alone and confused, so I'm obviously going to help you," Dick says, keeping his voice remarkably even considering the circumstances. "There's - I'll explain things when you're back at the Cave, the comms aren't safe enough."
"Alright," the kid - Jason - says reluctantly. "I'll activate the tracker in my belt."
"You had it turned off?"
"And you never did? Gimme a break, Wing."
Dick sighs. This could be exactly like every time he and Jason argue, except the tension in his back hasn't gone away. And Jason sounds like a teenager who's never been outside the city limits.
Holy shit.
"Do you want me to come get you, or do you want me to send a friendly?" Dick asks. "He's already in the city, but you don't know him."
There's only a beat before Jason sighs, too. Audibly. "You, then."
"I'll be right there," Dick promises. He takes his hand off the keyboard, silencing the Cave from the line. He turns wild eyes on the rest of them before he rushes to get into costume.
"He's not going to stick around and explain that?" Harper asks, finally appearing from the shadows. Cass has made herself visible now too, perched up high. "Who's the kid supposed to be?"
"It's Jason," says Barbara. She still looks shaken.
Damian makes a disbelieving sort of noise. "What? That barely sounded like Todd."
"It's Jason before he left Gotham," Tim guesses, more or less on autopilot. He comes closer to the desk, trying to restart his brain by reading over the forgotten code on Damian's screen. "That must be how he sounded. When he was a teenager. I think - I think that's Jason as a teenager."
It says a lot about their lives that Damian only considers this for a moment before nodding.
"Do you think it will be an improvement? He has not had a chance to go crazy yet, so perhaps if this is permanent -"
"Damian," Barbara says, but her heart isn't in the scolding. She's looking off to the side of her camera for a few seconds, and then her head shakes as if she'd lost herself in thought. "I should. Talk to him. If we just leave him at his own safehouse with no contact, he's either going to find guns or he's going to leave. Or, in the nightmare scenario, both."
"One of us can talk to him," Steph offers. "You look like you're gonna brick it."
Yeah. Tim is already pushing the button.
There are various noises of people trying to stop him, but he steamrolls over them all. "Hi, Robin. This is, um. Well. I'm Red. Nightwing is on his way."
"Goody," Jason says, sounding more like his elder self than he has the whole time. It's the bitterness, Tim realises, and then wishes he hadn't. "Let me guess, you're the babysitter so I don't up'n run?"
"Something like that." A thought occurs to Tim. "Hey, what are you wearing?"
"Beg pardon?"
Jason sounds deeply amused, now, and Tim runs the sentence back over in his head. "Oh. Sorry. No, I mean - are you in costume? You're in your Robin costume?"
"Sure'm," Jason says, managing to make it into one slurred word. "Why d'you ask, Red?"
Normally, Jason would get angry for no reason or run the joke into the ground or use the opportunity to annoy Tim. He'd snap none of your fucking business, is it or he'd drawl and what're you wearin', then, if we're playin' it like that or he'd make Tim play twenty questions until one of them got frustrated and hung up. He'd never just - tell Tim the answer, and ask why he wants to know, with so little suspicion.
Tim feels his eyes drag to the memorial case like the suit inside is magnetic. It might as well be - he's not the only one looking at it.
"Just wondering if you've got all your gear and gadgets or if you were stuck in civvies," Tim lies easily. He hears the quiet screech of the Batmobile's tires as it peels out of the Cave. "Nightwing's ETA is less than fifteen minutes."
Probably less than ten, if he's driving the way Tim would.
"Whatever." There's another rustling over the comms, and Tim tries to figure out what Jason is doing. Getting comfortable on the couch, maybe? Or just rearranging his earpiece? This is why they don't use external comms anymore, if they can help it. Less chance of interference from physical objects.
"You don't like Nightwing," Tim observes. He's mostly just trying to keep Jason talking, but he can't deny that he's curious.
Jason laughs. It's such a familiar sound, but weirdly distorted from what he's expecting. Like the Red Hood helmet has a new modulator.
"Tell you the truth, Red, I ain't best happy with any of the Bats right now. Last I heard, all of 'em think I need to be benched, permanent like."
"Are we sure he did not hit his head?" Damian asks. It's impossible to tell if the question is sincere.
"He's just talking," says Harper.
"He sounds ridiculous."
"He always sounds ridiculous. At least all you hear is Narrows, now."
"This is why I try not to converse with Todd in English."
"Yeah? Bet his accent sounds just as bonkers in Arabic. Dude's a total sponge for it."
Tim doesn't bother shushing them the way Dick had. Either they'll shut up or they'll miss part of the conversation. Up to them. "I dunno, Robin, I never heard anything like that."
"Well, you're new."
"Not that new. I'm pretty sure Nightwing would have mentioned not wanting you to be Robin."
"He's the one who gave Jason the costume, even," Barbara says quietly.
Tim - hadn't known that. He doesn't know if he wants to know that now. He pushes it into a mental box to deal with later, focusing on the problem at hand.
"He wouldn't've before I started messin' up so bad," Jason grumbles. "Too violent, or somethin'. As if the Bat pulls his punches."
"Oh." Barbara is even quieter, now, barely loud enough for Tim to hear.
"You know what he's talking about?" Harper asks. She leans against the desk next to Tim, and he can see the keen curiosity burning in her eyes. Out of everyone in the Cave, she knows the least about Jason.
Which is kind of a relief, because Tim is starting to feel a bit like he doesn't know anything about Jason either.
"I think there's conversations Jay might have overheard," says Barbara. "And I think he took them the wrong way. I guess - I mean, Bruce could have said something to him that I don't know about. But Dick and I, we never felt that way about him. We were worried about him."
Tim can imagine how something like I'm worried about Jason acting more violent lately would have sounded to a young teenager hearing it about themselves.
"Why were you so worried?"
"He was just - he didn't know when to stop anymore. He would keep hitting people after it stopped being necessary."
A lot of people start to speak at once.
"So he did the job correctly," says Damian.
"Jay's right, it's not like B doesn't hit them twice as hard as we do," says Steph.
"What kind of people are we talking about, here?" asks Harper. "You know for a fact it was never necessary?"
"Not killing," says Cass, her first contribution to this whole situation. She sounds awfully certain for someone who hadn't been there at the time, but Tim has to agree with her. Jason might have been dealing extra hits to criminals, but there's no way he'd killed someone at that age.
And, "Red? You still there?"
"I'm here," says Tim, hitting the button again. He's grateful that Birdsong is push-to-talk, since it spares Jason from listening to the peanut gallery, but it's also annoying. He's used to hands-free comms.
"Ring a bell for you?" Jason asks, and there's an edge of insecurity in his voice that Tim has never actually heard before. He's sure that Jason feels insecure as an adult sometimes, but he's good at deflecting whatever he doesn't want people to pick up on. It's just so obvious right now. "Wing told you about all that after all?"
"He didn't tell me anything like that," says Tim. "I just got distracted. There's - well, Wing's going to tell you when he gets there, this isn't the safest line to give specifics on - there's other people in the Cave with me."
"Is B there?"
Hopeful. Nervous. A kid who wants to talk to his dad, but doesn't want to get in trouble.
Tim feels, honestly, a little sick.
"B's upstairs," Tim says slowly. "Sleeping off an injury. You can see him when you get here, if you want to."
"Is he okay?" Jason asks, entirely anxious now.
Steph laughs. It's a short, strangled sound, like she hadn't meant to make it. Tim gets it - Jason asking after Bruce's health in a genuine way isn't exactly commonplace. He usually dances around questions like that.
"He's going to be fine." Tim feels weird, reassuring Jason about Bruce. He checks the tracker on Dick. "Nightwing is almost there."
"New costume," Barbara hisses.
"Did he take the Batsuit?" Harper asks, startled by the urgency of Barbara's statement.
"No - the Nightwing costume is really different now. Dick is already a visibly changed man, so without the old costume it's possible that Jason won't recognise him." A beat. "He'll be afraid."
"Robin," says Tim, because he's the only one touching the keyboard. "Nightwing is wearing a different suit than you're familiar with. It's still him. Ask him a security question if you need to, okay? But don't freak out and punch him or anything, we don't have time for you two to fight."
Adult Jason would snort something like no promises and insult Tim in a language he doesn't understand.
This Jason just says, "Like I'd even be able to land a hit."
The sheer lack of confidence has Tim floundering. He'd only managed to glimpse Robin-Jason in action once or twice when he was young, but his imagination had filled in the rest from stories and comparisons to adult Jason.
He'd have expected this Jason to be… cocky. Quippy, of course, but also brazen. Brash. And maybe he is all of those things sometimes, but right now he isn't.
Right now he's an insecure, confused teenager who just wants to be told that nobody's kicking him out. Tim doesn't know what to do with that. Tim hadn't known what to do with that when he was that teenager.
Luckily, he doesn't have to come up with anything to say. Nightwing's tracker reaches the building, and Tim easily clicks over onto their current comm setup, hoping Dick hasn't silenced himself. Unluckily, Dick seems uninterested in letting them all continue to eavesdrop. There's dead silence in the Cave for what feels like an eon before the line clicks smoothly, a clear contrast to Birdsong.
"Extracting to Cave now," says Dick.
"What? Extracting who?"
Oh, right. Duke is on patrol right now. Of course he's got the main comm line open. Tim shrugs at Barbara when she makes eye contact with him.
There's a long beat, and then Dick's faux-cheerful voice. "Hey, Signal. Sun's getting real low, bud, how about I pick you up on my way out of the city? Nobody's hurt, but we've got a bit of a family emergency here."
"Meet you at the bridge," Duke agrees easily, and then both of them are silent.
"Well, someone's got to patrol," says Steph. She's already stretching her arms above her head. "Heard the word family in there, means it's time for me to scoot."
"You are family," Cass tells her, in a tone that brooks no argument. Tim is grateful that he wasn't the one who had to say it - he knows that Steph finds it condescending when it comes from him, but he's not just going to stop reassuring her.
Harper pulls a face. "Then I should -"
"If given the choice to leave," Damian starts to say at the same time.
"All of you, stay where you are," Barbara instructs. "I've already got Kate patrolling tonight, and I'll let you know if she needs backup."
"You don't think we'll be crowding him?" Harper asks, with that same keen curiosity.
"I think…" Barbara sighs, rubbing a palm over her forehead as if staving off a headache. "I think he's going to be furious, and I don't think he'll want Dick or Bruce around. I want to give him the option to talk to someone closer to his age, so he doesn't try to run."
"Was he really such a flight risk from the beginning?" Tim can't help but ask. Jason as an adult has always had one foot out the door, but Tim had thought - assumed - it was because of the rocky relationship he had with the team.
"All of you birds are flight risks," says Barbara. She sounds fond, but sad. "Comes with the territory. But… yes. Jason had a go bag when he was Robin."
"Scared of the big man kicking him back out on the streets," Steph says with some measure of understanding.
Tim is talking before his brain gives him permission to be. "Well, that's ridiculous. I was there after B lost him, and it completely destroyed him."
The smile Barbara gives him is a little patronising. Tim frowns at her.
"Yeah," she says. "After he lost Jason."
And Tim - he likes a mystery as much as the next Bat, but mysteries are different than Not Knowing Things. The idea that everything he knows about his predecessor's run as Robin is built on a faulty house of cards makes his brain glitch a little bit.
Nightwing and Signal's trackers have converged, and they're nearly home. Well, at least Tim can fix Not Knowing Things about Jason when he was younger, since the teenager in question is on his way to the Cave.
Tim starts sorting mental questions into an order of usefulness, and he waits with his team.