Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuckfuckfuck. 

Jason fought back the urge to scream. There was something attacking Gotham and dealing with it was a fucking nightmare. Everyone currently in Gotham was working on this except Tim who was actually fucking sleeping for once in his damn life. The creature was Lazarus pit green which sucked for so many reasons and black. It was handsome in an uncanny valley-esque way. It was clearly magical, but Zatana was off-world and Constantine wasn't answering anyone's damn calls. 

"Hey, Toxic Waste!" Steph called. The creature turned toward her, temporarily letting go of Damian who had burns where it had touched him. "Yeah, you! You look like the oil industry's idea of green energy!" It roared at her in response.

Well, they couldn't touch it, and Bruce was also off-world, so it was time to wake up the tiny genius gremlin. Ugh, he hated waking Tim up.

Tim had been sleeping when Dream told him there was a nightmare loose in Gotham that Tim had to deal with because, "Family drama, Tim. You know how it is, Destiny keeps trying to find out about you, and we can't have that." Tim had just gotten to the fight when Jason called him. 

"Yo, Replacement! We need backup; we're at-"

Tim tapped Jason on the shoulder. "Mhm, where do you need backup?" He looked at the creature. "Oof, that's a fucking nightmare."

"Holy shit, kid." the older man cursed. "I'm a vigilante; you can't just sneak up on me like that." If Jason didn't want Tim startling him, he should improve his situational awareness.

"Yeah, okay. I have a plan; get everyone away." Tim turned to the toxic green nightmare and sighed. Dream had told him about this one. He had drawn inspiration from the Lazarus pits, and it sucked ass. Whatever, it wouldn't be too hard to deal with. "Hey, Lazzy! I know your dad!"

The nightmare didn't seem to like this. Maybe because that meant Dream had tattled? Tim didn't know, but Lazarus was going down.

Chapter Text

Tim's parents were home. This happened rarely, only about once every two months, but when it happened everything had to be perfect. A single speck of dust might be the difference between his parents' staying and leaving. So they wouldn't find any dust.

He was waiting by the door when his parents got home with a smile and a nice-looking shirt. The shirt was itchy. He wished he could take it off, but his parents didn’t like when he wore anything more casual. 

“Hello, Timothy.” greeted Janet.

“Hey, there, Champ,” Jack said with a fake smile. And that was okay! Tim could make him smile for real!

Tim’s smile brightened. “Hi, Mom, hi, Dad! I made dinner myself, and-”

Janet frowned down at him. “Timothy, you’re six now. Isn’t that a bit old for infantile nicknames like ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad’? ‘Mother’ and ‘Father’ are much more mature, aren’t they?”

The young boy’s smile dimmed slightly before he brightened it again. “Of course, Mother. I made Herbes de Provence Shrimp with Basil and Pea Couscous.”

Jack’s smile became a little less fake at the mention of food. “Great job, Champ.”

Janet shot his father a look and then smiled at him. “Oh, that sounds delightful, Timothy. Would you take our bags upstairs while we get washed up for dinner?”

Tim eagerly nodded and took their bags up to their room, hoping that they might stay for longer than a day or two this time.

He got to the kitchen to see Janet looking at Jack’s tablet while Jack talked animatedly about something. They barely acknowledged his entrance and only nodded at him when he gave them plates.

After dinner, during which Tim was shushed whenever he tried to contribute to the conversation, his parents informed Tim that they would be leaving for a month-long trip in the morning. 

Tim woke up in an empty house with a text from his mother explaining that they had to leave a little earlier than planned and asking him to please find space for everything they had brought back. 

Tim enjoyed placing the artifacts his parents had found. He enjoyed reading the notes his parents put on them with the name of the artifact and its story. He took out the priceless objects, cataloging each one mentally until he came to… Was that a bag of sand?

…

Huh.

Apparently, they had gotten it from a blond British man that swore it was priceless, and they couldn’t open the pouch, so perhaps he was right. Weird. Well, at least the bag looked cool.

About a year after Tim’s parents had left him with the bag of sand, a few days after Tim had turned eight, at 4:36 PM, a figure appeared in his dining room where he was starting dinner. 

The figure seemed to be male, he was dark, tall, and looked rather angry as he said in a deep rumbling voice, “Who took my san-” He broke off, surprised. “Are you a child? Where are your parents?” 

Tim squinted at him. “Germany? Maybe? Somewhere in the European area at least.” They had last said Australia, but the tickets they had bought last weekend placed them in Germany, though they could have left by now. He was pretty sure they were going to Spain next, so still in Europe. 

“That is unacceptable.” the man said. “Who is taking care of you, then, child?” 

“No one,” Tim answered. “I’m eight; I can take care of myself. Who are you anyway?” He probably should have asked this sooner, but sue him. He was eight, the jury would find it hard to be impartial.

“I am Morpheus of the Endless, the King of Dreams. Who are you, child?” 

“I’m Timothy Drake, king of nothing,” Tim said. “I am the heir of Drake Industries, though. And people call me Tim.”

Morpheus nodded. “Most humans call me Dream or The Sandman. I prefer Dream.”

Tim smiled. “Okay, Dream! What are you, anyway? I’ve met a few magical creatures before, who were drawn to the artifacts Mother and Father brought here, but you seem different.” The dragon had been alarming when it came for the fleece. Tim had thought his parents had been scammed by the man who now seemed to regularly sell them magical objects. The Colchian Dragon’s appearance had persuaded him otherwise, and he now regarded all objects the blond man sold them with suspicion. 

Dream looked surprised for a moment. “Well, I suppose I would seem different to someone adept in the magical arts. Though you are a bit young.” He looked Tim over consideringly. “I am of the Endless who have been here since the dawn of humanity and who will remain until the last human meets their demise.”

Oh, so Dream was basically a god, then. That made sense actually. They stood in silence until, “You were looking for a bag of sand, though?” Tim reminded the deity.

This seemed to jar Dream from his thoughts, and he said, “Ah, yes. My sand. Do you know where it is?”

The young boy nodded. “Yeah, it’s in the ballroom. If you go in through the front door, the big hallway will lead to it.” 

“Thank you, Timothy. I have one more question. What if I had wished you ill?” And was that concern? From a literal god? Wow, that’s kind of impressive. The magical creatures acting caringly toward him was one thing, but a god… Wow.

“You didn’t. You don’t have those… vibes.” Not the most technical term he could have used, but it worked. Tim had felt, or, rather, it had been more like seen, when he needed to be wary of anything magical.

Dream appeared intrigued. “Very well. Thank you for being such a hospitable host.”

“Any time.”

Tim hadn’t meant for that to be taken literally. Dream came back often. 

Also, on an unrelated note, or so Dream kept insisting, though Tim had his suspicions, other gods, goddesses, and magical creatures kept appearing all saying they had been summoned. They all helped Tim with whatever they could, which, in and of itself was suspicious, but, paired with Dream’s too-innocent expression whenever it was mentioned, painted a pretty clear picture to Tim. But, whatever. It didn’t really change anything, anyway. Tim was still bothered by deities frequently.

…Tim couldn’t say he minded. The prophetic dreams were really weird, though.

Chapter Text

Bruce stared at the message, watching for a following message declaring the first a joke.

Can’t make it, Bats. Constantine had sent. Need to help a kid out with something.

When the hell had Constantine gotten a kid? Constantine was more the type to say ‘Fuck off I don’t feel like it’ than the type to make up excuses. That would suggest that Constantine had a kid, but when? Who was unlucky enough to have Constantine as a father?

The maybe-cursed kryptonite could wait. This warranted an investigation. 

Death had shown up today, so Tim had called Constantine since the man had told Tim to call him whenever someone new and magical came. Death clearly wasn’t trying to collect his soul or anything, though.

They were baking cookies when Constantine got there and nearly had a heart attack.

“You’re baking cookies with Death?” he hissed. “What if she were here to kill you?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “First off: Death has never killed anyone. Never has the cause of death been Death. She just gets blamed for it.” Death looked grateful at that, but Constantine didn’t look convinced. “Also if she wanted to hurt me, I wouldn’t have trusted her.”

The magician seemed really worked up, though. Tim didn’t know why. It wasn’t like he would hang out with someone who wanted to hurt him.

…Fine. He wouldn’t hang out with someone who wanted to kill him, but Death wasn’t trying to do either, so it wasn’t relevant what Tim found acceptable intentions. 

“You probably wouldn’t know if she wanted to hurt you.” protested Constantine.

Death smiled warmly. “Actually, Tim might. Tim has some pretty powerful magical aura reading abilities. I think he’d be a great magician.”

“Oh, is that what it’s called?” asked Tim. “I was wondering why it only worked with magicians, deities, and other magic stuff. That makes sense” He turned around and put a tray of unbaked cookies into the oven and set a 9 minute timer. 

Death almost cooed. What was that about? The deities were weird. Also, they all seemed to be fighting for Tim’s affection? None of them challenged Dream up-front, though.

There was a small pop in the living room and Lama’s voice called, “Tim! Are you making cookies?” She walked into the room, saw Death, and adopted a hostile stance There were a few more pops and several deities appeared looking confused at first and many assumed defensive stances upon seeing Death.

“We will fight you if you even think about taking Tim.” snarled Ares.

“Your plan is to fist fight Death?” Athena asked, rather unimpressed. She was one of the gods not in a defensive stand. 

“Fist fight Death and win.” corrected Ares. “And why not?”

Athena rolled her eyes. “Because you’re going to lose.“ She scoffed. “Men.”

“I’m not here for Tim,” said Death.

“Then why are you here?” Constantine asked.

Death smiled. “Dream’s been acting weird for a while. I wanted to see why.”

Wait, Dream’s been acting weird? How so? Is he in trouble? “Is he okay?” he asked.

“Yes, child; Dream is well,” said Death soothingly. 

“So we came here for nothing?” Ares asked grumpily.

“Why did you summon us, Lama?” asked Montu.

“I’m a protective goddess.” Lama defended. “I saw Death and thought she was going to take Timmy!” 

The nickname made Tim smile. Constantine shot him a worried look which was fair, he guessed, but also he’d never had a nickname before. And anyway, Constantine’s the one who said he should smile more. He had no right to judge when Tim smiled.

“It’s not an unreasonable assumption.” Athena said cautiously, trying to avoid starting a fight in front of Tim.

“Oh, and we’re supposed to side with you because you’re so wise?” Ares scoffed.

“Well, maybe you should!” shouted the goddess of wisdom in an uncharacteristically unwise move. 

Lama moved next to Tim and whispered, “This happens everytime they talk. Don’t pay any attention to it.” Tim nodded, leaned against her leg, and looked around to check which deities were now in his kitchen.

He saw Ekeko, Athena, Ares, Death, Kali, Lama, and some wind spirits. 

“I don’t think we’re going to have enough cookies.” he whispered. His eyes widened. “The cookies.” he breathed. They were still in the oven! They were probably already burnt. There was also no way Tim was going to be able to push through everyone. “Hey, Jen?” he asked one of the wind spirits. “Could I get a lift to the oven?” He was probably too far away for a normal human to hear him, but Jen wasn’t a human. Sound was just vibrations in the air, and wind spirits could pick up on those vibrations better.

Jen nodded and Tim flew above everyone’s heads, landing gently in front of the oven. “Thank you!” he said. He opened the oven and could smell how burnt they were. Shoot. He put the tray on the stove and walked over to Kali. “Kali?” asked Tim.

“Yes, little one?” she asked.

“Could you fix the cookies?” he asked. “I couldn’t hear the timer go off, so they burned.”

Kali smiled. “How long do you need them to go back?”

“4 minutes should do it.” Tim said.

Kali raised her hands to turn back time on the cookies. She stopped when they were perfectly golden-brown. “Is that good?”

The child grinned. “It’s perfect! Thank you!” 

Kali smiled back. “Any time, little one.”

He frowned at the cookies when Kali moved back over to Lama. “We still don’t have enough cookies.” He looked around and saw Ekeko. “Oh! Ekeko?” Tim asked as he made his way toward him. “We don’t have enough cookies for everyone. Could you make more of them?”

“Of course, chico.” 

Chapter Text

Dick shivered. A sudden and all-encompassing sense of slightly foreboding anticipation had overwhelmed him for a second, gone as quickly as it had come.

It had been like the world had sucked in a breath at something with the potential to go either wonderfully right or horrendously wrong. The feeling, surprisingly, reminded him of the Drakes’ kid, his neighbor, who he had met at a few galas Bruce had dragged him to. That was really weird.

Another weird thing was the huge BANG that came from the direction of the Drakes’ house.

What the fuck?

Another bang came, smaller than the first, but still dangerously big if Dick could hear it from here. Dick’s ears still weren’t back to normal after a bomb had gone off a little too close while he was patrolling as Robin a few days ago.

What the fuck?

Then, suddenly, there was a golden dust shimmering in the air reminiscent of one of Ivy’s pollens. What the fu-

He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

“Death, what are you doing here?” Dream hissed at her.

Death rolled her eyes. “Same reason as you, I expect. I came to see Tim.” she smirked.

Tim looked apprehensively between the two. He had known that they would fight when Dream realized Death visited him, but he’d hoped to be farther away from the house. So that, you know. What just happened wouldn’t happen.

He looked at the hole in the side of his house. Or, well. Hole didn’t do it justice. Almost a third of the house had gotten destroyed. His parents were going to kill him if they ever found out about this.

Dream’s eyes flashed and there was another bang, blowing a crater into his front lawn. “The neighbors are going to wonder what that was about.”

Tim sighed. “Dream, could you-” Dream nodded.

“Anyone within five miles is now asleep.”

“Thanks!” Tim chirped childishly.

He had long since discovered that it was the most effective way to make the deities soften. It worked now, too, Dream’s expression not showing as much homicide when he glared at Death. Death cooed, but whether it was directed at Dream or Tim was unclear.

Dream seemed conflicted at that, so Tim frowned at the chunk of missing house.

“That’ll be a problem if my parents see it.” he murmured for the benefit of the two deities.

“I know a Japanese god who can get it done in a snap.” Death said immediately.

“Well, I know a Greek god who could get it done better.” Dream retorted.

“So, what do you think?” Death asked, cringing slightly.

Tim stared at the abomination that used to be his home. It was an absolutely terrible mess of modern architecture, Traditional Japanese architecture, and traditional Greek architecture.

“It…” Tim trailed off, unsure what to say. “It’s, uh. Certainly interesting.”

Dream looked at the house with sheer disgust clear on his face. “There is no way we are making Tim live there.” They stood there, just absorbing the monstrosity, before Tim’s expression brightened.

“I’ve been wanting to try this for days! This is the perfect time ‘cause. I mean, it’d be hard to make it worse than that.” he gestured toward the chunk that the two gods had tried to fix. Dream and Death nodded their heads in agreement. “Alrighty, let’s give this a try!” He closed his eyes and started chanting in Ancient Greek, drawing objects in the air. When he opened his eyes again, there stood his house, more or less as it should look. “Yeah!” he cheered. “I did it!”

“Congratulations, Tim!” said Dream. “Baby’s first spell!” squealed Death. Which, like, no, it wasn’t, but whatever. “I’m so proud. Do you wanna go out for ice cream to celebrate? We can invite whoever you want to!”

Dream grinned. “And I can buy dinner first!”

Tim grinned back at them. “That sounds great!” Constantine, Death, and Dream were the only ones who ended up coming with Tim. They went to a small, family owned restaurant because they let Tim pick where they went, and it’s important to support local businesses.

Besides, there wasn’t anyone here except the staff, so they could basically act however they wanted. The waiter stopped at their table eventually.

“Can I get you guys anything?”

“Yes please!” Tim chirped. “May I have spaghetti and a ginger ale?”

“Sure.” replied the waiter. “Any of you guys want anything?” he asked the adults.

“I’ll take a burger, and what kind of beer-” Death and Dream glared at Constantine. “I mean root beer. I’ll have a burger and a root beer, please!” he hastily corrected. The waiter snickered.

“May I have a salad?” Death asked. “Anything to drink?” the waiter asked. “Yeah, lemonade, please.” Death replied.

“I’ll have the same.” Dream told him.

“Great.” The waiter glanced at Tim who was giggling at something Constantine had said. “You know, your kid’s adorable.” Concern leaked into his tone when he said, “You sure Gotham’s the right place for him?”

Laughter came from outside where Batman was fighting Harley Quinn.

“I mean, I love Gotham, lived here all my life,” added the waiter, “But… it’s not exactly kid friendly.”

A small explosion could be heard from somewhere in the city.

Tim looked at the waiter and smiled, dropping the illusion spell for a moment, showing his sharp teeth and odd eyes. “I’m Gotham, born and bred. Just try to make me leave.” He’s also friends with many deities, which while having some unforeseen side effects - such as the eyes and teeth -, did make it hard to make him do anything.

The waiter let out a startled laugh. “Yeah, I guess you are. Sorry, I didn’t know.”

Tim grinned, back to cute, idiot, 100% normal human boy. “It’s fine. Most people don’t realize.” The waiter nodded and walked back to the kitchen to give their order to the cook. Once he was out of the dining area,

Constantine whistled. “Damn, Tim. I didn’t know your eyes were that far gone. Your illusions are getting better than mine.” A thought seemed to strike him as he turned to the deities with a confused expression. “Wait, I thought you said he was here because he cast his first spell. He’s been using illusions for months.” Ever since his eyes became reflective to the point of basically glowing in the dark and changing color.

Dream scoffed. “Illusions aren’t spells. They are cast everyday by anyone acting like something they are not. They require next to no magical ability and can be cast by a child trying to conceal something from their parents or a teenager to hide imperfections of the skin.”

“No shit?” exclaimed Constantine. “That’s why a thin ass sheet hides a flashlight? Illusions?”

“Yeah, crazy isn’t it?” Death said.

“That… actually explains a lot. Like my classmates' faint auras.” murmured Tim.

“Well, that, and it’s Gotham.” agreed Death.

Harley Quinn smashed the window and jumped in. She smiled and waved at them. “Hiya! Sorry ta crash ya dinna', but Bats is bein’ more annoyin’ than usual.”

Tim glanced at Batman who was just getting up, and at Robin behind him who flipped down from a building… once… twice… three times… four flips forming a quadruple somersault nearly identical to the one he had seen the flying Graysons do years ago. The quadruple somersault that only three people could do.

Two of those people were dead, and the third… The third was adopted by Bruce Wayne - who was oddly muscular for a billionaire - right before Robin appeared. Robin who could do the quadruple somersault.

“Holy batcrap.” Tim breathed. “I gotta go.” He drew a portal up and was gone in a flash of light.

Chapter Text

John started at the place where Tim had just made a portal. "The fuck?" he whispered.

The waiter glared at Harley Quinn and Batman. "You better pay for the window." Wow, did literally no one in the city have any self-preservation?

Batman grunted an affirmative after he got to his feet, Robin appearing beside him a minute later. Batman's gaze lingered on John when he looked around the room, and John couldn't really tell, but he thought he might be confused. The big, bad, Batman is confused. Fancy that.

Harley Quinn was openly gaping at where Tim had been standing. "What the fuck happened ta the kid?

The waiter glared harder at her in nonverbal accusation. Only in Gotham were the residents so used to supervillain attacks that they openly antagonized them. The city was so fucked up.

"He… made a portal," Dream said, also slightly disbelieving. "I didn't know he could do that. Did you know he could do that?" he asked Death.

"No." the equally stunned embodiment of death said. "When did he learn to make portals?"

John rolled his eyes. "We could ask him. It's about time to go anyway." 

Batman reached out to grab them but Tim's guardian trio was already gone.

"So, uh." Harley Quinn, the villain Dick was supposed to be helping Batman take down, mumbled. She was getting her bearings quickly, though. "Imma step outside for this fight cuz I didn't sign up for this shit."

"Yep, sounds great." Dick jumped back outside, followed by Batman and Harley, where they continued the fight.

Death, Dream, and Constantine portaled to the mansion and Tim whirled to face them. "Why didn't you tell me I live literally right next door to Batman and Robin?" he demanded. Honestly, the audacity."

Dream rolled his eyes. "You told me, and I quote, 'wait, no, don't tell me, I want to figure it out myself!' What part of that would lead me to believe you wanted me to tell you?"

"The part where I didn't realize we were literally neighbors?" 

"Okay, hold up." Constantine interrupted. "The bats are the mother fucking Waynes? The fuck?"

"Apparently." Tim all but hissed. His irritation disappeared quickly, though, when he said, "Oh my gosh, next time the Waynes host a gala, I'm gonna look for the Batcave. It's gonna be great."

Apprehension filled Constantine's tone as he said, "Maybe… don't do that?" He phrased it as question for some reason.

Tim gave a non-committal hum.

"I'm more concerned about when the hell you learned how to teleport." said Death.

Tim smirked. "What, you thought a transformation spell that big was my first spell? That's so unlikely. I've been using small portals for months. They weren't hard to learn. I thought you were being sarcastic when you said first spell. Literally how would that be my first spell?"

Death shrugged. "Fair point."

The next time Tim went to a Wayne gala because his parents had told him he should network, he does not look for the Batcave. He does, however, fuck with the Waynes.

"You remind me of Robin." he told Dick Grayson.

Dick froze. "What?" he asked in a voice just strained enough to not be obvious if you weren't looking for it. Tim was looking for it, and it was beautiful. 

"You remind me of Robin." he repeated. "You're both really good at acrobatics. Did you know Robin can do the quadruple somersault? You two are probably the only two people in the world who can do it! And you're both really nice." Tim smiled like the eight year old he was and said, "You'd make a great Robin."

Dick nodded tightly. "Thanks. I need to use the bathroom. Bye."

Tim grinned.

Dick was whispering furiously to Bruce about Timothy Drake when Timothy walked up to them. How did Timothy find them? Dick didn't have a single fucking clue. They were on the balcony overlooking the ball room, but they shouldn't be visible to any guests. Also, Timothy came from somewhere that, frankly, none of these guys should be able to- Wait. Did he. Did he climb the fucking walls to get up here? What the actual fuck?

"Timothy!" Bruce greeted despite his surprise. "Dick was just telling me how flattered he was that you thought he could be a good Robin." That's one way to say it.

Timothy smiled and said, "You can call me Tim, Mr. Wayne. You'd make a good Batman too. Although, I'm pretty sure Batman's a vampire. Gotham would be the best place for vampires because it's so dark all the time, and everyone's kinda suspicious, so no one would bat an eye at their quirks."

Bruce's shoulders relaxed minutely, his version of sighing in relief, and huffed out a small chuckle. "Call me Bruce."

Dick smiled. That was good. Timothy didn't know, he was just being a kid.

Dick brought Wally West aka Kid Flash to a gala Bruce dragged him to. Tim Drake, across the room, smiled.

"Dick, what the fuck?" yelled Wally after the gala.

"Relax, Tim's just weirdly intuitive." Dick soothed. "We're pretty sure he doesn't know. He's done this with everyone I've brought, and then told us his wild theories about the heroes."

Wally grinned. "Like the next speedster being Flash's grandson from the future?"

Dick grinned, "Yeah, or like Batman and Superman being secret lovers.

Wally snorted. "I thought your dad was going to break his no kill rule when he said that."

"No way; he loves Tim too much. The only reason he's not adopting him," Dick added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Is that we're pretty sure Tim has parents. But we can never catch him on camera to get a facial scan in." That was true, but it obviously didn't stop either of them from recognizing Tim.

Yeah Tim Drake was adorable and smart, but there was no way he would say those things if he knew.

It was Jason's first gala, and Tim was going to be there. Dick didn't come to Gotham much lately, but he did enjoy going to the galas Tim was going to be at. The kid was so smart and just. Stupidly adorable. 

Dick bet Tim could befriend most of the rogues if he wanted to. And that. Was a slightly concerning thought. The young boy would be a formidable opponent with how smart he was. But that was bat paranoia talking. Tim was ten. He wasn't going to try to level Gotham.

Dick also wanted to bond more with his little brother. He had been a bit standoffish in the beginning while he was still pissed at Bruce, but he'd gotten his head out of his ass. Jason was a great kid.

Another deciding factor was Tim's penchant for seeing the similarities between heroes and their civilian identities. He wasn't going to leave Jason to the wolves, and Bruce sure wasn't going to tell Jason. And, you know… it wasn't like Dick was going to either, but he'd calm Jason down.

Which was how he came to be standing in Wayne manor with a suit on and smiling at boring socialites.

Jason looked like he was about to punch the next person who tried to talk to them. He sighed when Tim came up to them, preparing to pretend to want to talk to a rich brat. Dick sighed too, but his was a sigh of relief. 

"Timmy!" he called. 

"Dick!" Tim called back to him. "How's Blüdhaven? Decided you're more of a Nightwing person?"

Jason stiffened minutely, but not as much as Dick would have thought with how little training he'd gotten this early into being Bruce's son and Robin. Dick only laughed. "I don't know, I think the new Robin's pretty great. But let me guess. You think I'm similar to Nightwing."

Tim scoffed. "Obviously. Everyone knows Nightwing's the first Robin, and I've been saying you remind me of Robin since the day we met." He turned to Jason. "You, however, are most definitely a Robin the second person."

"Why wouldn't I be?" Jason demanded. "You got anything against the second Robin?"

Tim gave a small but genuine smile. "No. The second Robin is arguably better than the first. He gets what the people are going through. He didn't join the crusade for revenge, like the first clearly did. He joined because he needed to help." Tim's smile turned shit eating. "Besides," he said, "the second Robin is much more attractive."

Jason turned bright red, and Dick almost choked. "Okay, then," Dick said. Tim's eyes sparkled with mischief, and. Okay Dick knew Tim was fucking with them, just based on his expression, but, damn, Tim. Did he have to make Dick think about that?

"Timothy, stop bothering the Waynes." a woman with black hair and expensive clothes and jewelry hissed loudly. Oh, that must be Tim's mom, a distant part of Dick's brain - the part that wasn't just chanting what the fuck - observed.

Tim nodded, but he seemed different than when he was talking with them. "Yes, mother."

"I'm very sorry." the woman said. She stuck out a hand. "Janet Drake. You two must be Richard and Jason."

Dick plastered his high society smile back on. "Oh please, call me Dick, Mrs. Drake." he said, decidedly ignoring Jason who was making faces behind Janet's back while Tim silently laughed. Yep, he was ignoring them. They don't exist. Totally.

Jason gave Janet bunny ears. Oh, fuck him.

"Why didn't you tell me about Tim?" Jason asked after the gala. A totally reasonable question, Jason thought.

Dick smirked at him. "Because none of us got warnings, why should you?" Asshole.

"But he's talking about Batman and Robin!" Jason protested.

Dick groaned. "I know, but there's nothing we can do about that and Tim's fun to talk to. It's not really worth it. He doesn't know anyway."

Jason squinted at him for a moment, then nodded his head. "Okay." he allowed. "But only because I like him." Regardless of any jokes he may have made about how attractive Robin was. Jason was pretty sure they were just jokes.

Chapter Text

"Maybe if we stay very still, they won't be able to see us?" whispered the blond girl with a dark purple hoodie. They were backed into a corner; what else were they supposed to do?

"Nope, that's T-Rexes in Jurassic Park, not these." Tim whispered back as they stared in horror at the thing in front of them that had, by some miracle, not spotted them yet.

"And what the fuck are these?" she quietly demanded.

"Yeah, I'm not sure exactly, but Xavier said they have great eyesight, smell, and hearing, but it's really slow." Tim answered right as the 20 foot tall baby blue blob finally turned what appeared to be its eyes towards them and roared. It started oozing toward them. Very slowly. Oh. They could totally run around it, and run away.

Steph snorted. "Really slow is an understatement. Come on."

They ran around it. Well, Tim ran around it. Steph slipped in the slime trail it left behind, and Tim picked her up and carried her. Hey, being favored by so many gods had perks, and one of them was greater than average strength. (Hera got jealous of Zeus' child being so much stronger, and made Tim strong.)

"What's your name?" Tim asked. He was pretty sure the blob was acidic, and that it has burned through the girl's shoe. Because another side effect of the gods was that he could tell what hurt people whether it be physical or emotional hurt. Her feet got burned too, so Tim had to try to distract her.

"Steph." the girl said with a voice tight with pain. "You?"

"Tim. I'm going to take you to a doctor for your feet if you don't mind."

Steph glared at him. "No. No doctors." Tim nodded because that was fair. Tim wouldn't want to go to a human doctor either, although for much different reasons.

"Fine, but I'm gonna give you some first aid and money for shoes and food first." Tim allowed.

"Fine." Steph grumbled.

"You're fucking insane." Steph said.

"I know." Tim agreed. "But are you in?"

She scoffed. "Hell yeah. I just need you to know that if this kills me, it's 100% your fault."

Tim laughed, "Batman doesn't kill."

"Maybe not, but falling 50 feet does." she looked down over the ledge of the apartment they were on.

"It's fine, I've only fallen once, and it was two feet." 

"How often do you follow the bats?" Steph asked.

Tim giggled. "More often than I probably should, but less often than I'd like. Come on!" And he jumped… Onto another roof, he wasn't suicidal. 

Steph whooped as she followed him.

Tim tapped on Steph's window with their secret code. Which, yeah, maybe they didn't need a code for the window of a room on the second floor, but maybe this was Gotham and you should mind your own damn business, in Steph's humble opinion. 

Anyway, Tim had helped her once and then he'd just. Never left. Not that she wanted him to, but also he was fucking feral. Absolutely insane. And now he was at her kitchen window. Which didn't have a fire escape. So he must have climbed the wall. Like she said: feral.

"Why couldn't use the door this time?" asked Steph while she opened the window.

"'Cause your dad's on the porch and he looks mad. I don't want to deal with that. His being upset's his problem, not mine." Tim whined as he slid onto the kitchen counter.

"What do you want?" Steph grumbled, handing him a wet paper towel.

Tim took it and wiped off the counter he had landed on as he said, "To go to the movies. You wanna come?"

"I need to ask Mom first." Steph said. "Give me a minute." She started walking towards her Mom's room.

"Stephanie?" Crystal's voice came from behind the door after she knocked.

"Yeah, Mom. I was wondering if I could go to the movies with Tim?" asked Steph. 

Crystal opened the door. "What time is it?"

"Tim, what time is it?" shouted Steph in the direction of the kitchen.

"7:16!"

"Alright, thanks!" She turned back to her mom. "7:16."

Crystal smiled. "Sure, just be back by 9:30." Most mothers wouldn't allow their kids to walk around Gotham at night, and for good reason. Then again, most kids didn't have Tim with them. It was weird like he was magic or something, but no one seemed to attack them when he was there.

Steph woke up the next morning happy. She loved dreaming about Tim. He was more fun than anyone she knew. Steph just wished he was actually real.

Tim was dreaming. He knew this because he was looking at Sherlock Holmes. Yes, the Sherlock Holmes in the detective stories. Tim wasn’t sure if it was real, or if Dream was just giving him good dreams, but he enjoyed solving mysteries with Sherlock. 

“Timothy!” Sherlock exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you today!” 

Tim giggled. “Me neither, but here I am, so… Did you find out what’s happening yet?”

“Are you, perhaps, using some kind of technology to travel quickly?” the older man guessed.

“Nope!” Tim said, “Guess again, Sherlock!"

"Ah, well. Quick, Timothy, inside. I have a case I would appreciate your help with." Sherlock seemed very excited. Tim wondered how long it has been since he'd visited for the older man. He could tell that it had been more than a few hours, given the fact that the leaves had fallen off the trees. 

Well, it couldn't hurt to ask. "Hey, Sherry, how long has it been since I've visited you?"

"Stop calling me Sherry!" Sherlock said.

Tim giggled again. "Yeah, okay." He definitely wouldn't. "But how long has it been?"

"A little over a week. Now, come! I have a particularly challenging case I would love your assistance with." 

"Tim!" Enola squealed as she flung herself at him through the doorway of 221b Baker Street. "Maddy told me you were here!" She hugged him tightly and glared at Sherlock. "Why didn't you tell me he was here?" 

Sherlock sighed. "You always monopolize his time."

Enola giggled and dragged Tim with her, presumably to her friends. "Edith's teaching a new move, and you know you're her favorite student. She'll go much easier on us if you're there too."

Tim snickered. "Well, maybe if you got good, she wouldn't have to be so hard on you." Enola let out a drawn-out, exasperated sigh.

Chapter Text

Tim was kind of confused. He hadn’t dreamt last night, which hadn’t happened since he met Dream. Whatever. Dream was probably just a little busy. Although, the gods had been acting really weird last night. They insisted he stay home. There had been an Arkham breakout too! He would have gotten some great pictures! And he’d be in the loop as regards to who was in and out of Arkham now. But, no. They wouldn't let him go. Weird. 

Tim shook his head and went to the kitchen to make himself an egg for breakfast. He really did want to know who was in Arkham, though, so he used his phone to listen to the radio. 

It turned on near the end of a Red Robin add just soon enough to hear, "Red Robin, yum." Tim giggled a little bit. Most Gothamites avoided eating Red Robin because they felt it was disrespectful to Robin, their hope. They didn't need Red Robin, their burger joint. It didn't stop the restaurant from trying, though. They kept trying to convince people that they were trying to honor the boy that 'technically stole their name first, and anyway it was just the last part so why did it matter?' They weren't going to succeed. The Gothamites had made up their minds and Gothamites were stubborn.

"And we're back after the ad break! Red Robin's never going to get a foothold here in Gotham, but it sure is funny to see them try. Good morning, Gotham. Or, as good of a morning as it's possible to have here in this city. As most of you are probably aware, there was an Arkham breakout last night. Poison Ivy, Riddler, Scarecrow, and Joker escaped. While Batman managed to recapture Scarecrow and the Riddler, Ivy and Joker are still out, so be careful out there! I don't get paid if you're all too dead to listen to this station, and I'm underpaid enough as is.

"This is Jillian Jones signing off. I need to go to sleep. It's way too hard to keep the news mildly entertaining and not horribly depressing in this city. Why does anyone live here? Why do I live here?" 

The station's jingle played and Tim turned it off.

The Joker was out. Dang, he sucked.

But, more importantly, Jillian had made a comment about being "too dead" to warrant her getting paid. That indicated there was a level of dead in which you could listen to the radio. Yes, it was just supposed to be a funny comment, but also they lived in Gotham. If anywhere would be the start of the zombie apocalypse, it would be Gotham. Tim would have to keep an eye out for that.

The news came four days later. Jason Todd was dead. A car accident, the news said. A week later, Joker resurfaced in Gotham, bragging about killing Robin.

"Tim?" Constantine asked cautiously from a few feet away from him. Even the gods looked nervous and they were immortal.

"Yes?" Tim replied a little too sweetly. 

"Are you okay?" asked Death. Dream wasn't there. Dream had been there, but Tim had kicked him out. "It had to happen. It's a fixed point. You don't know how much we all wanted to stop it. Dream especially."

Tim's tight, too wide smile dropped off his face. "Get out."

"Tim-" Death pleaded.

"Now!" he shouted. "Get the fuck out of my house! All of you!."

And they did.

Tim fell to the floor, sobbing.

Tim's life was falling apart. He was still fighting with Dream, Jason was dead, he couldn't focus in school, and Batman... Batman was hit hard by Jason's death; that was understandable. But he was going to kill someone. Tim didn't think he could handle Batman killing on top of everything else.

Jason could fix it; he was an amazing Robin. He really had been the light to Batman's darkness. Batman was pitch black without a North star to push away the dark night. Batman needs a Robin, but who could be Robin? No one but him knew who they were.

Well, Batman needs a Robin. He's had two before; either the first Robin was coming home, or a new Robin would be spreading his wings soon,

Dick said no. Dick refused to be Robin. Until he could convince the gods to bring Jason back, Tim would need to be Robin.

"No." Batman growled.

Tim had flagged Bruce down during his patrol. Tim had chosen this spot because it would be hard to see from the streets and any sound could be heard fairly easily, but their conversation wouldn't carry. 

"Batman needs a Robin."

Batman grunted. "And you need to be safe. I'll work on cutting down on the unnecessary violence."

"Mr. Wayne." Tim scolded. 

"You're not supposed to know that name."

"And you're not supposed to be beating criminals to near death." 

Bruce stood in horror at what he was seeing. Tim was standing over Dick's bloody corpse with a sickening smile on his face, Dick's unseeing eyes locked on the ceiling of the warehouse. The young boy started drawing mesmerizing pictures on the floor with Dick’s blood. Tim sat next to Bruce’s son’s corpse, painting pictures with his son’s blood, and humming an eerie lullabye.

Suddenly Dick sat up, his glazed eyes fixed on Bruce. “Why did you trust him, Dad?” Blood started falling from Dick’s eyes like tears. “This is your fault.”

Tim’s eyes flashed and suddenly the boy was holding a crowbar. Bruce tried to call out a warning, but he couldn’t open his mouth. Tim raised the crowbar, and Bruce couldn’t move. “It’s time,” the crowbar fell on Dick’s back. Bruce couldn’t do anything but listen to his son’s agonized scream. “For,” the crowbar came down on Dick’s legs, and there was another scream. “Bed!” the crowbar hit Dick’s head and he crumpled, new blood joining the blood already pooling on the ground. Tim smiled, and his expression changed from the already horrible smile, to the Joker’s maniac grin. 

Maggots crawled out of Dick’s eyes as Tim started giggling much like the Joker.

Bruce shot up in bed with Tim's giggles ringing in his ears.

He wouldn't let anyone hurt his family again.

Tim grunted in pain at the impact of Batman's fist in his stomach and fell on the mat.

"Again." growled Batman with crossed arms.

Tim pushed himself up, wincing as he put weight on his sprained ankle. They began sparring, Tim immediately on the defensive until Batman had Tim's arm pinned under his boot. Tim waited for him to let him up, but Batman kept pushing. And pushing.

A sickening crack filled the cave, and Tim screamed. Alfred hurried over. "Is everything quite alright, Masters? Master Tim?" The butler evidently saw the tear tracks Tim was sure were running down his face and frowned. "Master Tim?"

"I- I'm. Fine. I'm fine." Tim gasped. "I need to get home. My parents will be wondering where I am soon." His parents weren't home, but he needed time to process what had happened. Batman broke his arm.

When he got home, he collapsed before he could even close the door, tears flowing freely now that there was no one to witness them. He wanted his parents. He wanted… He wanted, "Dream!" he sobbed. "Please, Dream!"

Immediately there was a whirlwind of sand and Dream appeared. "Tim? What's wrong?"

"H- He broke," Tim gasped. "He broke my arm!" 

Dream's eyes narrowed. "Who?" he hissed.

"B- Batman!"

Dream wrapped his arms around the small boy tightly. "I'm so sorry, my Little Raven. I'm sorry you had to go through that without me."

The sharp pain in his arm was fading slightly the longer he stayed with Dream. The strange aura magical beings possessed, while detrimental to the health of most humans, helped Tim. Especially Dream's. "It's not your fault. I pushed you away and refused to listen when you explained why you didn't tell me about Jason. Can we… be friends again?"

"Of course, Little Raven. What have you been up to since we last spoke?"

"Well, uh. I kicked the Joker in the balls last time he escaped. That was kind of fun." Tim said with a small smile. He would be able to do that more now that he was Robin. The kicking Joker thing, not the smiling thing.

"That's actually a fixed point too!" Dream laughed. "Every time the Joker escapes from Arkham, he gets kicked in the penis."

"Just say dick or balls like a normal person." Tim said.

Dream laughed. "Your hair grows rainbow, you have claws, your eyes glow, and you have fangs. You do not have a leg to stand on."

Tim startled. He hadn't noticed he had relaxed enough to unconsciously release his illusions. The two sat in (somewhat) comfortable silence until dream shifted and jostled Tim's broken arm. Tim hissed in pain.

"Timothy Jackson Constantine, did you not heal your arm?"

"I forgot." whined Tim. "Therapeuo," he whispered to his arm. "There, look! All better! Also, Constantine? Really?"

"I refuse to call you a Drake, and none of the rest of us have last names. Thus, Constantine."

Tim have a long, loud, and exasperated sigh.

"Hey, Death?" Tim asked innocently.

Death squinted cautiously. "No."

"But I wanna talk to Jason again."

"You can talk to him, though. You know this, Tim. I can't just bring back everyone you want me to." Death said.

"I mean, you could."

"No." Death sighed. "Tim, you know I can't-"

"Yeah, yeah, it's a fixed point." Tim grumbled, "But that's just him dying, right? There's nothing that says he can't come back."

Death froze. "That," she murmured, "Is a valid point I had not yet considered. Destiny would be upset, but when is he not, honestly?" she addressed Tim again. "I suppose I could try."

"Yes!" cheered Tim. "Thank you thank you thank you thankyouthankyouth-"

"But!" interjected death. "No promises." She was smiling at Tim, though, so Jason was definitely coming back from the dead.

"How in the Universe did the league of assassins get him?" Tim all but screeched. "I teleported to the cemetery! How did the league get there faster than me?"

"Maybe they already had the kid's body?" John guessed. "I don't fucking know. Not my business."

Tim paused. "Why would the league want Jason's body? Unless… Shit, we gotta get him."

Bruce stared at the message. There was no way it was true. Jason has died, and the Lazarus Pits couldn't bring people back to life. The tip, though… It appeared to have been sent by a rogue league assassin.

It couldn't mean Dick either. Bruce's eldest son was upstairs with Alfred. 

"The league has your son." read the message. "Please hurry."

Tip sent; Tim mentally checked it off his to-do list. Now the tricky part: timing. Bruce would put off telling Tim that Jason's with the league as long as possible, so Tim had to come into the cave at a time when it would be impossible for Bruce to deny that something was going on. Luckily for Tim, he knew a tech god. No, not Oracle, though she was pretty close to one. Tim knew a literal tech god named Steve. 

Steve looked like Minecraft Steve and Tim was pretty sure since kids liked Minecraft so much they were able to turn Minecraft Steve into a god. Weirder things had happened. That wasn't his business, though.

"Hey Steve!" Tim yelled at his phone. His phone was off, but that wouldn't matter for the god, though. "I need help hacking into the Batcomputer! You available?"

Tim's TV turned on and he turned around. "Oh! Hi, Steve! How're you lately?" Steve was Tim's his TV, his image layered over Tim's streaming services.

"I'm great." Steve replied as he climbed out of his TV, much like Bugs Bunny had that one time. That had been a wild week. "Let's hack the Batcomputer, Timmy!" 

Tim cheered and ran to get his laptop.

With Steve's help, Tim was able to get to the cave in his Robin costume at the exact moment Batman was walking into the Batwing.

"Robin," Batman greeted as he continued to walk into the plane. Was he trying to play this off as normal or arranged?

Tim could have laughed if he didn't need to pretend to be confused. "B? What are you doing?"

"Overseas mission." grunted Batman.

Tim smiled, "Cool! I actually came over to say that my parents are off on business and my nanny said I could stay over with some friends, so I can come with you!"

Bruce's jaw clenched. "No." No? Tim knew not the word!

…

Unless he needed Loki to stop tempting him to cause chaos when he needed to be responsible. Otherwise, though 'no' was not a part of his vocabulary!

They got Jason back! The three(?) vigilantes were in the Batwing on the way back to Gotham. Was Jason still a vigilante?

"Hey, Jay? Are you still going to be a vigilante?" Tim asked.

Jason growled at him and replied, "Let me get one thing straight, Replacement: I don't like you. I don't know how you convinced B to make you Robin, but I'm not falling for it." He leaned forward. "I died for Robin, Dick created it; what do you add to it?" Wow, maybe in another universe where he didn't have a house of deities and people from other universes helping him with his insecurities, that would have stung a lot more.

Here, though, it just prompted Tim to smirk and say, "Pants." The Lazarus Pit was obviously influencing Jason's behaviors. His eyes were literally glowing. Tim would have to find a way to help that.

Also, jeez, Jason. Chill. Dick was plenty salty for the both of them. Well, until he realized that Tim was the gala Tim. Then, Dick was mostly upset with Bruce for 'getting another child involved in this deadly crusade'. Pssh. Like Bruce could've stopped him.

Jason snarled and moved to sit closer to Bruce in the cockpit.

Things were going well. Tim and John had managed to get rid of the pit in Jason. Damian had arrived and immediately tried to murder him, but it's fine! They're working on it! (Tim tried not to think about the fact that he still felt a little unsafe in Wayne Manor. It's fine, though. He has his own home.)

Tim's parents were coming home today too! A few years ago this would have been a much bigger deal, but lately he found he much preferred his deities company over that of his parents. Thus, instead of scurrying around to clean any mess his friends might have left behind, he was trusting their ability to clean up after themselves. Shocker, right?

Regardless, he was playing Zelda: Breath of the Wild when Jen the wind spirit came in and cried, "I'm sorry, Tim! I'm so sorry: I tried to stop it, but Zeus wouldn't listen to me, and he just kept going, and I'm sorry! I couldn't- I couldn't save them! Your parents!"

I couldn't save them!

Your parents!

Your parents!

Tim's.

Tim's parents.

Zeus. Zeus killed his parents.

They were flying home. And now.

Tim looked down at his Nintendo Switch. Game over, it declared in yellow letters. Tim's vision blurred with tears.

Chapter Text

Death came next. "I'm sorry, Tim. I'm so sorry your fight with Zeus led to this. It was a dirty move on his part. You didn't deserve it."

Tim glared at her. "What fight with Zeus? I'm not fighting the god of the skies, Death! I'm a teenager! This is Zeus picking on a kid like some school bully! There is no fight! There's a childish immortal high up on Mount Olympus throwing a hissy fit like a fucking toddler! There's insane amounts of power with a being who kills people because he feels like it! There's," his voice cracked as he said, quieter, "There's the corpses of two people who loved me unconditionally. So, what fight, Death? What fight did I pick that meant- that meant the death of my- my parents?" He was sobbing uncontrollablely now, no doubt about it.

Death winced and pulled him into a hug. "I know, darling. I know. But hey!" she said in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. "Hera's definitely beating Zeus's ass."

"I don't- don't need Zeus to be punished." Tim would be lying if he said it didn't make him feel at least a bit better, though. "I need my parents back. I just want my parents back." he whispered.

"I know, baby. I know." 

John grinned at Zeus with far too many teeth. Hey, he picked up a few things from Tim, like intimidation tactics. Tim knew a concerning number of those, but as long as he wasn't using his powers for evil it was fine. (Not that Constantine would be able to do anything if Tim did go too far, at this point. Tim had been taught by too many gods for that.)

"You hurt my kid." the magician said with fake cheer. "Didn't think that one through, did you?"

Zeus gulped. There were… many angry deities in front of him. Most notably Death and Dream, although they did have Amun and Saturn among other gods and magical creatures.

Baba Yaga was also there, although John was pretty sure Tim didn't know her. It was possible, he supposed. John hadn't been there for Tim's entire life, but Baba Yaga? That seemed unlikely. (Not that unlikely meant anything with Tim.)

"I didn't- I thought you didn't like the brat's parents!" the terrified 'lord of the heavens' stuttered.

"We don't." Amun said.

"But Tim does." rejoined Lama.

"Last time someone hurt Tim, we threw her into an eternal sleep." Dream hissed. "Caer Ibormeith had her powers taken away too, for the most part, so she's actually stuck in endless nightmares." 

"We thought we'd give you the Kronos treatment." Death said with glee.

"I'm sorry!" wailed Caer Ibormeith. "I won't do it again! Just let me out!"

"But you did." Bruce Wayne, that bastaird, intoned. "You made me hurt a child."

"You did that." hissed the goddess. "You broke that leathcheann, Timothy's, arm. I may have increased your dislike of him, but I didn't make you hurt him. That was all you."

"Bruce Thomas Wayne would never harm a child. You put ideas in his head, and you made him distrust Tim so much that he would hurt him." Dream said. Caer may not have her powers any longer, but she could tell that it was the real Dream.

She wailed in frustration.

Bruce wanted to adopt him. Tim didn't know how he felt about that. On one hand, Tim kind of wanted to be able to say that he was Batman's son, but, on the other hand, he did have a lot of friends/guardians that the Waynes didn't know about. Damian also definitely didn't want him living in Wayne manor. Jason and Dick would like it. Dick had pretty quickly accepted Tim was a brother, and Jason had warmed up to Tim quickly after the pit was gone.

He could always set up an identity for his 'uncle' in case he needed to be out of Bruce's custody. Well… as long as Tim had a way to get out of it, there was no harm in being adopted by Bruce.

Holy shit, Bruce was dead. Well, not dead dead, but everyone thought he was dead. Thanks to extensive research (he asked Death) and an unexpected informant (Kali started complaining about heroes messing around with the time stream) he knew that Bruce was lost in time. What can he say, he's a detective.

"Tim, you have to know how crazy that sounds." Dick pleaded. Apparently, he couldn't say that Bruce was alive.

"Yes, I do, but Dick, I also know I'm right." insisted Tim.

"Timmy, his body-"

"Is a fake!" Tim shouted. "Bruce isn't dead!"

Dick sighed. "Tim, I'm sorry, but this… insane fantasy isn't going to bring Bruce back. He's dead and we have to accept that. Let's go to bed, and we can talk about this more in the morning. I love you, Timmy. It's going to be okay.

It will be okay. Tim would get Bruce back and move back into his own home again and it's going to be fine. "I know, Dick," he replied softly. "I love you, too."

Tim went up to his room in the manor, head filled with half-formed plans and questions he had. That night he would only dream of planning.

"Tim, you need to take a break," Athena said.

"I'm busy," Tim said without looking up from his laptop.

There was a moment of silence before Athena sighed, "I'll do it."

Tim brightened. "Really?"

"If you take a break after," Athena said.

"Can I record it?" Tim asked.

"Fine." the goddess relented.

"Thank you!" Tim squealed.

The video started with a woman in ancient Grecian armor floating in a forest. She had a haughty look as she sang, "Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?"

"Athena!" called a young male voice from out of frame.

The woman didn't turn her gaze from the boat her eyes had been following. "Have you forgotten to turn off your heart? This is not you." Now she does turn toward the… boy? He had rainbow hair, glowing eyes, and claws and he had wandered into frame, followed by the boar wandering off-screen. "I see you changing from how I designed you. Have you forgotten your purpose? Let me remind you. Goddess of wisdom." The woman looked directly at the camera, the forest behind her blurring slightly. "Master of war. My life has one mission: create the greatest warrior"

The forest sharpened and the boar wandered back in frame although the boy stayed too. "I had a challenge, a test of skill. A magic boat only the best could kill. One day a boy came for the thrill, a bit whose mind rivaled the boar's own will."

"Let's go!" the voice from before, now shown to be the boy with rainbow hair said after seeing the boar and pulling out his sword.

"Maybe one day he'll follow me," she continued as the boy and boar fought. "And we'll make a greater tomorrow, then they'll see. I know he'll change the world 'cause he is a warrior of the mind" The boy climbed a tree to get away from the boar and sat on a branch to catch his breath with a thoughtful look on his face. "Maybe one day I'll reach him and I can build his skills as I teach him." The boar started ramming into the tree, and each time it hit the tree, the tree shook. The boy seemed to think that it wouldn't hold up long seeing as he stood up as if to jump to a bigger tree. Instead, his face turned more calculating than alarmed and he moved towards the trunk. "If there's a problem, he'll have the answer. He is a warrior of the mind!" The boy jumped down at exactly the right moment to behead the boar.

It was silent except for the boy's heavy breathing before he sang, "Show yourself! I know you're watching me! Show yourself!" The woman rolled her eyes and the boy looked in her general direction. "I can see you."

Surprise flashed across the woman's face. "How can you see through my spell?" She became slightly more solid, although it hadn't been noticeable before that she hadn't been solid. The boar disappeared along with its head.

The boy grinned and his small fangs became visible. He giggled instead of the chuckle-y laugh in the original. It was cuter, but it definitely fit the boy better. "I was lying! And you fell for my bluff." he giggled again.

The woman looked very impressed and vaguely amused. “Well done, you lied to me, what's your name?"

The smirked, "You first, and maybe I'll do the same."

The woman raised a single eyebrow. "Nice try, but two can play this game."

The boy snorted with amusement. "Nah, don't be modest. I know you're a goddess, so let's be honest: you are Athena! Badass in the arena!" Athena raised her other eyebrow at that. "Unmatched, witty, and queen of the best strategies we've seen!"

"If you're looking for a mentor, I'll make sure your time's well spent."

The boy slung an arm around Athena's waist. "Sounds like a plan: goddess and man, bestest of friends."

Athena pushed him gently away with one hand. "We'll see where it ends."

"Okay." the boy said, much more skeptic than in the original song.

"Maybe one day they'll follow me," began Athena, joined by the boy as they sang, "And we'll make a greater tomorrow. Then they'll see. I know we'll change the world 'cause we are the warriors of the mind!" The boy was twirling and dancing like a forest spirit while Athena looked on with fondness. "Maybe one day they'll follow me and we can build their skills as we teach them. If there's a problem, we'll have the answer, we are the warriors of the mind!"

Athena's expression turned stern. "I still intend to make sure you don't fall behind. Don't forget that you're a warrior of a very special kind. You are a warrior of the mind!" She placed a hand on his shoulder, interrupting the child's dancing. "Don't disappoint me."

Shadows appeared at the edges of the camera and crept into the center until the entire screen was black. The video ended.

"What'd you think?" Tim asked, not bothering to put his illusions back up. It was only Athena and she wouldn't judge him.

"It was… more enjoyable than I had anticipated." the goddess said with a surprised smile. "I'd like to do it again sometime."

That was even better than he'd expected! "Yeah, I'll tell you if I find something good." he walked back to his desk and opened his laptop.

"Oh no you don't," Athena said sternly. "You said you would take a break after we recorded the video." Damn, he had hoped that she'd forgotten.

"Fine." he whined. "I still want to post the video, though."

Athena considered it before nodding. "That's okay, but don't you dare try to get any work done."

"Thanks," Tim muttered.

He had to create a YouTube channel to post the video. Hmmm… Gods&Goddesses& Boys? Sure, why not. The Wizard of Oz was a great movie, and had the right kind of vibe for the channel. That being vaguely magical and really weird. There, and post it. Good. It was up.

"Alright, I'm gonna take a nap since I can't work." He shot an annoyed look at Athena while feigning a yawn.

"No you are not. I know you know how to navigate the Dreaming; you're just going to get back to work if I let you sleep." Ugh, sometimes knowing a wisdom goddess sucked. "We're going to make cookies because somehow your cookies taste better than ambrosia and then we're going to watch a musical." She nodded and literally dragged Tim by the arm to the kitchen. "Where did you get the recipe?"

Tim rolled his eyes and started walking himself as they rounded the corner. "A friend came up with it.

The boy and goddess got to the kitchen and Tim started pulling out ingredients.

After the cookies were finished baking, Tim and Athena brought them to their favorite living room.

"What's your favorite musical?" Athena asked.

"Um… I like Hamilton." Tim replied. It was really hard to choose just one favorite, but Hamilton was great.

"Then we'll watch Hamilton." Athena said.

"No more sex, pour me another brew, son!" Lawrence said on screen.

"You can't be old enough to watch this," Athena murmured.

Tim squawked. "I'm 16!"

"You can barely drive a car."

"Only legally! I've been driving the batmobile for years!"

"Okay…" the goddess of wisdom acquiesced begrudgingly.

Loki appeared in the middle of The Room Where It Happens.

"Tim, I've got a great- ooh, is that Hamilton?"

"Yes, and you're blocking the screen." Athena said grumpily. "Go away, you always talk during these sorts of things."

Loki gasped with offense. "Tim! Tim, Athena's lying to me!"

"Shut uuuuuuuupppp, guys! This is the best song in the musical!"

Loki pouted at Tim's refusal to defend his honor. "Fine. But I'm going to be causing chaos."

Tim waved him away and Loki stole a cookie before disappearing.

Tim fell asleep shortly after I Know Him. Athena smiled slightly at his slight snores.

"Dream," she whispered, careful to avoid waking Tim up. "Would you keep him from working? I worry about his habit of getting sucked into his work."

Dream appeared in a whirlwind of sand and Athena paused Hamilton. "I do too. Really, the only reason I allow him to work in the Dreaming as often as I do is that he might refuse to sleep if he couldn't get work done despite being asleep. Well, and that none of my subjects, save the Corinthian, would be pleased if I disappointed Tim." The embodiment of dreams sat on the other side of the boy too young to have seen as much as he had. The young boy who had almost lost everything, who had still had to watch it happen before he could stop it. Sure, his two best friends were still alive, but he had watched them die.

"Right now, he's with the Addams." Dream told Athena.

Athena did not wrinkle her nose at that; she was a goddess and much too don't for that. However she did narrow her eyes. "I don't like them." she declared.

Dream chuckled. "None of us deities do. That's why they can't die; not even The After wants them. Tim adores them, though, so we must persevere for his sake."

Athena sighed. "Why in the world did Death refuse Wayne like that?"

Dream scoffed, "She wants to keep her spot as 'the cool goddess'. She can't do that if both of Tim's human dads are dead, and you know she's not bringing the Drakes back."

"She better not. Neither are acceptable guardians, though."

Dream sighed and started running his fingers through Tim's hair. "No, they are not."

"You are unusually chipper today, Timothy." drawled Wednesday. "Why?"

"I'm really close to finding Bruce!" Tim chirped. "Everyone's saying he's dead, but I know he's not!"

Wednesday raised a single eyebrow. "The man who dresses like a bat every night and broods?"

"Yep!"

"Well, please take a page from his book. Your happiness is going to blind me." she requested.

Tim woke up 8 hours later, well rested and booked a plane to France. He knew he could find Bruce, fuck what Dick or anyone else said. Yeah…

Fuck what they said, he'd bring Bruce back and he'd do it with or without the gods' help. (The gods would always help him. He knew and was grateful for that, but they couldn't always directly interfere in stuff this big.)

Chapter Text

Tim was 90% sure he was dreaming. That percentage went up to 100 when he started hearing thoughts that both were and weren't his.

He watched as he beat up 3 of Ra's' ninjas on a rooftop before they disappeared and left a com on the roof.

Well… he could let it play out like that, or, and Loki would be proud of this one, he could scare the shit out of them and not let them disappear. He already knew all their names too!

"Hey guys!" Tim greeted, as soon as the assassin trio landed. Owens screeched almost as loud as a banshee. "Jeez, Owens!" Loki's partner in not-usually-literal crime laughed. "Weren't you looking for me? Well, congratulations! You found me!"

"How the bloody hell did you find us?" Pru asked.

"I mean, it wasn't that hard." It technically hadn't been! He just had to go to sleep last night!

Z was standing to the side talking into a com.

"Yo, Z!" Tim called. "You talking to Ra's?"

"Master, he-" Z hissed before stopping. "Yes, of course, Master." He turned to face Tim. "Yes, Timothy. We have been instructed to help you with anything you wish."

"Wait, what?"

"Like fucking hell."

"Oh cool! Come on, I already got you tickets." Tim said before climbing off the rooftop and into his waiting car.

Ugh, another death dream. At least Tim was pretty sure that's where this was going. They'd been traveling together for a few weeks and Tim was pretty attached.

They had just come out of a cave - they found it! They found proof! - Tim was smiling and Z turned toward him.

"How do you feel, Timothy Drake?"

Tim opened his mouth to reply, but all that came out was a muffled cry as Z slid off the sword that appeared from his chest. Within a second, Owens was choking on his own blood. Pru managed to get a punch in on the man's stomach, but he slit her throat. It didn't seem too deep as to be lethal if helped quickly, but Tim was pulled away from that thought as he fought the man. Tim lasted longer than his friends, but the fight was still quick and ended with a sword between Tim's ribs.

"Thank you for your participation." the man said before Tim's vision went black.

Timothy Drake was a mystery. He knew far too much, was always at least ten steps ahead of Ra's. He was also a shit ton of fun, in Owens' humble opinion.

He watched with fascination as Tim, who he was pretty sure was asleep (his eyes were closed and his breathing was even at least), sat up when his phone started playing You Are My Sunshine.

"Kon?" the boy asked. There was a pause where it just seemed like Tim was asleep to Owens before Tim said. "Yeah, almost. We're gonna find it tomorrow… I promise I'll be back soo- Don't you dare Kon-El… Sure. Yep, you too. Bye." Then he collapsed and began snoring again like he had never picked up his phone.

Yeah, Tim was fucking great.

Z did not know what to think of Timothy. On the one hand, he was a kid, barely 17. On the other hand, holy shit was the kid creepy.

Timothy was looking at the cave wall with wonder and a blinding grin on his face. "I did it." he whispered to herself. "I finally fucking did it!"

"He finally fucking smiles." Pru muttered with a smirk.

Tim stepped behind Z and, though Z didn't know it at the time, he was counting in his head. What Z did know was that he turned around to see Tim with a knife - since when was there a knife in the boy's bō? - at a man's throat. The man was in a frankly stupid looking costume and had two swords.

The vigilante (assassin? Random trained human? Retired hero?) smiled at the man.

"Hello, Widower. I win."

Ra's smiled at Tim when they brought the assassin hunter in, and, nope, that's creepy. Ra's was creepy.

"Very good, Detective." the wannabe demon purred. Gross. "Did you know you're the first ones to survive an attack by the Council of Spiders, let alone apprehend one of the assassins?"

Tim grit his teeth (fangs) and said, "Couldn't have done it without my team."

"You're understanding yourself, Detective."

Fuck off, Ra's no one likes you. "You give me too much credit, Ra's, but I digress. So, what comes next?"

"I would like to make a deal if you would be amenable to it." Ra's offered. A deal? Tim gestured for Ra's to continue and he did so with an irritating self satisfied smirk."I will help you find the Batman," good start, good start, "As long as you work with me and my league to take the Council of Spiders down."

Why wouldn't he take that deal? He would have gone after the Council anyway and the league's resources would be helpful. Sure, he'd have to put up with Ra's for a while, but honestly Ra's was kind of pathetic compared to the actual demons he'd faced. Tim cracked a smile. "You've got a deal, Ra's."

Tim… Did not really know why he was doing this. He could justify his choice to himself as much as he wanted, but the truth was that he could have gotten Bruce back a month ago on his own. But. Taking down the Council of Spiders with the League was surprisingly fun. He wanted to hang out with Pru, Z, and Owens and be able to talk with Kon, Bart, and Cassie on the phone every night. He wanted to go on missions with the assassins as Chatham Raven.

Sure, he wasn't a fan of them killing, but they rarely did it when he was there, and anyway he literally hung out with Death. The gods and goddesses regularly killed people who annoyed them. Batara Kala ate people. He could deal with a little moral ambiguity.

"Chath!" Owens called over their comm line. "We've been spotted."

Chatham Raven swore and started moving towards his team. He knew it couldn't be too bad or Dream would have shown him, but it still wasn't good.

"We can take Sac for now, but there are still civilians in the way." Z said.

"Copy." Tim said. "I'll be there in a minute."

When he got there, Owens was shooting at Sac, Pru was shooting at the spiders, and Z was cycling between helping civilians, killing spiders, and trying to beat up Sac. The civilians were just standing there. Come on, this isn't Gotham.

A girl walked toward the fight, noticed it, and groaned. "Ugh, this isn't Gotham, man." she muttered. Thanks, random Gothamite in the middle of Turkey.

Tim dropped down next to her. "I know, right? And the civilians, too! I doubt even half of these people could throw a decent punch; why are they just standing there?"

The girl startled, but nodded. "Seriously! I just want to find Drake in peace! Fuck off!"

Well, that could be problematic. "Tim Drake?"

"Yeah. What do you know about him?" Shit.

The girl's name was Tamara Fox. Tam for short, and her father had sent her to look for Tim.

"You found me." Tim insisted. "You can go back to Gotham." He started walking away. "What are you, no, Tam, don't follow me- don't step- Shit, get out of the way"

Tam raised an eyebrow. "Why did you booby trap your hotel room?"

Owens knocked on the door and asked,"Hey, uh, boss- Stop hitting me Pru. Well, then you ask him."

"Hey, dipshit, we're hungry and our wallets are in the room. Unless you want us to rob someone, let us in." Pru said after a moment of silence that Tim assumed was the two assassins doing rock paper scissors to determine who was going to ask for their wallets.

Tim stifled a laugh. "Sure. You can come in."

The door opened and Pru and Owens came in. "Why the bloody hell is there a hole in the wall?" demanded Pru.

"Yeah, Tim, why is there a hole in the wall?" Tam asked icily.

"Because we're fighting deadly assassins, so it's better to have biometric traps then be dead?" Tim tried. "And Tam's biometrics aren't programmed in yet."

"It's she going back to Gotham?" Owens asked.

Tam started at him. "No." sighed Tim.

"So, what," demanded Pru. "She's going to stay with the league for a nice sleepover?"

"The league?" questioned the civilian.

"Yeah. The League of Assassins." Owens told her while Pru muttered about 'secretive assholes'.

Tam whirled around to face Tim who had walked over to a device on the table and was tinkering with it. "Did you become a fucking assassin?"

Tim froze. "Um. Not…really?"

"Wow, super convincing there, Boss." Z said from the still open door while Pru and Owens cackled. "By the way, you forgot to close the door."

Chatham Crow glared at the assassins doing their best hyena impressions.

"Oh shit." Pru gasped, suddenly remembering what it had said on the file she'd skimmed through about Tim's training with Lady Shiva.

"I can't believe that worked!" Tam whisper shrieked in Tim's rooms.

Tim himself was beaming. "I know, right!"

Pru was cackling again while Owens shushed her. "That was fucking beautiful. This is why… this is why you make our… plans." she gasped.

"I am never going to do that shit again, that was fucking terrifying." Tam said solemnly. "But holy shit," she breathed with a grin. "I can't believe they didn't notice. How are you still alive?" she asked Tim. Tim just shrugged, still beaming.

"We don't know either." Owens whispered to her from across the room in a manner that suggested he was confiding a secret.

"Alright, get me out of here." Tam said as Pru yanked her out of the caterer's cart they had smuggled her inside of.

"How are we going to feed her?" asked Z.

Owens looked up slowly and blinked. "Not. Our. Problem." he said.

Tim snorted. "Easy. Ra's is always telling me I need to eat more. I don't eat more than a quarter of every meal he gives me. Tam can have the rest."

"You do eat freakishly little." Pru commented.

Tim pouted. "I eat enough."

Pru rolled her eyes. "Owens could beat you in an arm wrestling competition. Owens."

Owens' head whipped toward her. "Shut up." he hissed. "You've seen him flip guys, like, ten times his size over his shoulder."

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure that's his science-magic shit. Look at that arm. There's no way in hell he can beat an assassin, even one as weak as you." Pru said with a scoff.

Owens gasped with offense. "Me? Weak? I'll have you know, I- Ow!" he glared at Tam rubbing his arm where she had punched it. "What was that for?"

Tam smirked, "So strong."

Tim looked Pru in the eye as he said, "Try me, bitch."

Pru snickered, "What's on the line?"

"Loser has to make a working Ironman suit for the winner." Z spoke up.

Tim and Pru agreed and they sat down at the table. They put their hands together, and Pru's was immediately on the table.

"What the fuck? Owens come here." They did it again with Pru and Owens against Tim. Tim won again. "Z, you too." Pru demanded. Z sighed and joined, but Tim won again.

"Ha! You guys need to make me an Ironman suit now!" Tim crowed. "This is the best."

Tam just stood there, staring at them judgmentally.

The trio worked on (struggled with) the suit for three days before Tim took mercy on them and helped. Three days after Tim joined in, the suit was finished, which, if you asked Tam, was a terrible thing. Then, Tim had somehow found out that the Joker escaped from Arkham, stole the suit, and flew away, calling back, "I'm not losing my streak!" when they tried to get him to wait.

Tim had come back three hours later and with a grin when he took off the faceplate. "The suit's great! It flies well, and it made Joker cry when I kicked him in the dick! Oh, also, he's back in Arkham." 

Z was smirking when he asked, "What streak were you talking about?"

"Oh!" laughed Tim. He seemed really happy. He should do whatever he has just done more often; it clearly made him very happy. "Uh, since I was 12, I've been kicking the Joker's dick every time he escapes. My streak is 32 and has never been broken. If he takes too long to break out, I break into Arkham to kick him. At this point, I'm pretty sure he's sterile."

Tam squinted. "Wait, when did you become Robin?

"When I was thirteen."

Owens nodded with respect. "So you've been doing this since before you were Robin."

"Yeah. Well, today's the day!" he said. "We're gonna take down the Council and bring Batman back!"

S nodded. "Yes, then you can take your faction of the of the league to Gotham and make up with the bats."

Tim whipped around to face him. "I'm sorry, my what?"

Turns out almost a quarter of Ra's' ninjas were loyal to Tim because he was nice to them. Fuck Ra's. So now he has to find out what to do with the couple thousand ninjas he was now in charge of.

Another point in favor of becoming a crime lord like John wanted.

Dick was tired. Damian needed help, Jay was grieving, Bruce was… well, Tim had left and was only talking to his Young Justice teammates, and Dick was tired. Tired of Batman, tired of WE, tired of parenting, and just of all, tired of grieving. Dick was tired of waking up in the morning knowing that his dad would never smile and ruffle his hair after patrol. Dick was tired of needing to pretend that nothing was wrong because the public didn't know his dad-

Anyway, he was tired, but he couldn't sleep. Is this what Brice felt like? No wonder he drank coffee as black as his soul. This sucked.

Usually when he was like this, he'd talk with Tim. Tim was never asleep when Dick came in, and he would often finish cases during the night, but Tim never seemed tired. It was weird and a little creepy - a lot like Tim himself. Like he said, though, Tim wasn't picking up for anyone but his Young Justice friends who wouldn't tell Dick shit.

He was wandering towards the nearest coffee machine when his phone rang. He picked it up; at least if it was a scam caller, he'd be able to mess with them.

"Hello?" Dick asked, covering a yawn.

"Dick?" asked Tim's voice. Dick was suddenly much more awake.

"Yeah, Baby Bird? Is everything alright?"

Tim was slightly breathless when he replied, "What? Yeah, definitely. I'll be back in Gotham soon. And I've got a surprise~"

Dick heard what might have been a sigh on the other end of the phone that didn't sound like Tim. There was a muffled question and Tim replied with what might have been, 'we got a new lead.' Lead for what? But Tim hung up.

"We gotta lose the league." Tim said in answer to Bruce's question. He then hung up the phone, and turned to face Batbitch more directly.

Batbitch startled. "Why is the League of Assassins on your tail?"

Pru snorted. "'Cause Ra's has a crush on him!" she sing songed. 

"He does not!" screeched Tim.

"'You're underselling yourself, Detective.'" Owens recited, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, Detective," swooned Pru because she was a bitch and willing to admit it. "What a big brain you have!"

Tim turned to Z with a pleading look.

"You want me to lie?" asked Z because he was also an asshole.

The Batbitch was staring at them with a constipated expression which only got worse when Tam mentioned, "Ooh, ooh. Remember that one time Ra's said that Tim would make a great heir?"

"That one time?" asked Pru. "He's made comments like that at least ten ten times." At least ten times and that's just in front of Pru.

"You're all terrible friends." Tim muttered. "It'll probably only be, like, three days to lose the league, though." he reassured the Batbitch.

"Wait, but didn't you mention once that, uh, what's his name, that magician? Constance Paine?" muttered Owens. "Cont-"

"John Constantine?" asked Pru back with an emotion. Tim could probably tell which one it was, but she has not been taught the language of the bat's facial expressions. "What about him?"

"Yeah I remember that!" Tam said. "He owes Tim a favor, right?" she asked Owens like Tim wasn't right there.

"Why don't you just cash in your magic favor?" Pru asked.

The big bad Bat started at Tim. "How big is this favor, Tim?" That was definitely concern in his tone.

"I- you know… big." Tim mumbled, waving his hands vaguely. "I, uh… kinda exorcized a demon for him once?" Not technically a lie; he had exorcized a demon for Constantine many times. It just… want as big a deal as it probably seemed to them.

Tam was staring at him now. "You can exorcise demons?" she asked incredulously.

Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne (Constantine), trust fund baby extraordinaire, winced slightly. "A little bit?"