Chapter Text
It had been a couple of days since the sleepover at his house.
Now, Tim was crouched alone in a dusty, half-collapsed basement just outside Crime Alley — one of Gotham’s many forgotten places. A new server rig blinked dully in front of him, humming faintly as he plugged in another cable.
He’d asked Jason to release another wave of modified phones among the lower ranks of Gotham’s criminal food chain. Zero’s name needed to stay in circulation — whispered on back channels and muttered with just enough fear. Out of sight couldn’t mean out of mind. If people stopped talking about Zero, they'd forget what he was capable of. And forgetting could get him killed.
He was halfway through plugging in a series of wires when he froze.
Something shifted behind him — quiet, but unmistakable.
A rustle of fabric. Slow. Intentional.
He turned his head just slightly, not rising, just listening. The air was tense, heavy. Tim slipped behind the bulk of the server box, instinctively angling his back away from the door.
And then — there. A figure entered. One peek around the metal confirmed what he already suspected.
One of Black Mask’s lackeys.
Not just a street rat — this guy had training. He carried himself like someone used to getting his hands bloody.
But Tim wasn’t a street rat either.
He moved his hand, the nanotechnology within his bag spilled out and a split second later he had a bo staff in his hand.
Footsteps closed in. The man scanned the room.
Tim waited.
Then he struck — fast and low. The staff swept out from the shadows and smashed into the man’s ankles. He stumbled with a grunt, gun already half-raised—
—but Tim was gone from sight. He ducked behind and brought the staff crashing down against the back of the man’s skull. The body crumpled to the floor in a heap, gun clattering uselessly away.
Tim stepped over him, grabbed the communicator from his ear, and crushed it underfoot with a satisfying crack.
He commanded his bo staff back into the bag.
Then, without missing a beat, he returned to the wires. He had a few more connections to finish before he could leave.
But then he paused.
He couldn’t let this guy report back to Sionis — not after seeing where Zero’s newest server was being housed.
Which meant... he couldn’t leave him here.
Tim stared down at the unconscious man and sighed.
“Of course,” he muttered. “Because dragging a 5’11 brick wall of muscle around Gotham is exactly how I wanted to spend my night.”
With a quiet groan, Tim grabbed the guy by the leg and began dragging him out of the room.
It took some effort, but he managed to haul the man up from the basement and across the street into a different abandoned building.
There, he tied him up in a dark corner, using tightly braided wires as makeshift rope. Not the most elegant solution, but it was sturdy — tied properly, wires could hold better than cheap zip-ties.
He patted the guy down and disarmed him, collecting anything sharp or loaded. He ended up holding a pistol for a moment before tucking it away in his bag.
Then he waited.
Sitting on an overturned crate, Tim stared across the dim space at the unconscious body like a silent judge. He didn’t move. Just watched.
Eventually, the lackey groaned and began to stir. His head lifted weakly, eyes squinting at the figure in front of him.
“…Zero?” he asked, genuinely confused.
Tim tilted his head, voice dry and modulated by the vocal scrambler. “Wow. Can’t even recognize me anymore?”
The guy blinked. “You look different. Boss said you didn’t wear a domino mask.”
“Well, I do now,” Tim said coolly. “Looks like your boss needs to update his files.”
He leaned forward slightly, letting the weight of his gaze settle.
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
The lackey squirmed against the wires binding his wrists. “You’re making a mistake, you know. Black Mask doesn’t forget this kind of thing.”
Tim didn’t answer. He just stared, the soft hum of the servers across the street still lingering in his ears.
The lackey grunted again. “What— what is this? A warning? Are you gonna monologue or something?”
“You wish I would monologue and drag this out.” Tim said dryly. “I want to know how you found me.”
The lackey smirked. “Please. You think we didn’t keep tabs on where your tech pops up? You’re flashy, Zero. Even when you think you’re being subtle.”
Tim didn’t move. “You came alone?”
The man gave a short laugh. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
That set off a flicker of unease in Tim’s chest, but he didn’t show it.
“Let’s say I did come alone,” the man continued, shifting slightly. “What then? You gonna kill me? You don't have the guts.”
Tim didn’t answer. He stood up slowly and walked over, crouching just far enough away to stay out of range. “No. But if you tell Black Mask about the servers, I’ll lose leverage. I can’t afford that.”
The man tilted his head. “Funny thing about leverage,” he said, voice low and steady. “You only have it until someone pulls the rug out.”
Then suddenly, he twisted hard, yanking his hands apart — wires strained and snapped, not all, but enough. Tim’s eyes widened.
The lackey surged forward, still partially bound, using the sudden burst of movement to tackle Tim off his feet. They crashed to the ground, old concrete knocking the breath out of Tim’s lungs.
“Should’ve killed me when you had the chance!” the man growled.
Tim rolled with him, kicking out and shoving the man’s shoulder to the ground. His fingers scraped across the floor as he commanded the nanotech again. He soon grabbed a hold of his staff again and in one swift movement and swung it back.
The lackey lunged again, hands still tied together but forming a crude bludgeon of his own. Tim parried, shoved him back — and swung.
It was meant to knock him out.
The staff cracked across the side of the man’s skull with a dull, wet thud. The metal end dug in just enough to splinter bone — blood splattered, and tiny fragments of skull scattered across the floor.
He dropped instantly.
Tim froze.
Chest tight and lungs burning, he slowly lowered the staff. The man didn’t stir. A thick stream of blood leaked from his temple, pooling dark and fast beneath his head.
“Shit,” Tim whispered. He stumbled forward and dropped to his knees, checking for a pulse even though it was evident the man was dead.
Nothing.
He stayed there for a second, heart thundering in his ears, fingers still pressed against cooling skin.
It was supposed to be a knockout.
He staggered back until he hit a wall with his back, standing slowly, eyes locked on the body. He’d been trained for this. He knew what a killing blow felt like — but it hadn’t felt like one until it was.
He looked at his hands. Then the staff. Then the blood.
“Damn it.”
This was going to complicate everything.
And worse — he wasn’t even sure it scared him anymore.
His knees buckled, and he slid down the wall, collapsing into a heap on the cold concrete. No — no, he was scared. His hands were trembling. His vision tunneled in and out, his breathing shallow and uneven.
The adrenaline was wearing off. His body felt cold.
Shock. He was going into shock.
Of course you are , he thought bitterly. You just killed someone.
His hand trembled as he reached for his comm. He didn’t want to call anyone. But he didn’t have a choice.
“Hood?” he said, his voice raw and shaky even through the modifier. “I need help.”
The silence on the line didn’t last long.
“Zero?” Jason’s voice cut through — sharp, urgent. “What’s wrong?”
Tim stared down at the body, his breath catching in his throat. The air reeked of blood — metallic, suffocating. His chest was tight, and he couldn’t swallow. His mouth was dry, his tongue felt like sandpaper. His whole body trembled.
“Zero, talk to me. What’s going on?” Jason’s voice came again, more insistent now.
“Uh…” Tim managed, the sound barely more than a breath. He wasn’t sure if this was real. His thoughts were slow and scattered, everything felt distant. “I need help… getting rid of a body.”
The words sounded foreign coming out of his mouth. Heavy. Too heavy.
Jason said something — sharp, probably a question — but Tim didn’t register it. Instead, he whispered, voice cracking, “I… I killed him.”
There was a beat of silence. Then more words from Jason, but Tim couldn’t focus. His hands had curled into fists, gripping at the fabric of his own clothes, then at his arms, then at nothing. His fingernails bit into his skin.
It was cold. Too cold. And he couldn’t stop staring at the body. At what he’d done.
“Tim,” Jason said suddenly, firm and commanding. “Close your eyes. Right now. Only look up at the ceiling.”
Tim obeyed without thinking. His eyes snapped shut. His voice wavered. “Okay—”
“Good. Breathe. You’re gonna be okay. Just breathe,” Jason said. “Now tell me where you are.”
Tim inhaled shakily. “Server setup spot… 3... Across the street…. Abandoned building..”
“I’m five minutes away,” Jason said quickly. “I’ve got this. Stay on comms with me.”
Tim nodded even though no one could see it. “Mhm…”
“Don’t look away from the ceiling,” Jason said again, gentler now. “And keep breathing. I’m almost there.”
Jason’s voice buzzed in Tim’s ear, but it barely registered. All Tim could do was breathe, slow and uneven, his eyes occasionally opening up to the ceiling beams like an anchor.
He didn’t know how much time had passed — it blurred — until a flash of red filled his vision.
The red helmet.
Jason.
He said something, voice low and steady, but Tim couldn’t make out the words.
Without hesitation, Jason moved to him, lifting Tim off the ground and carrying him behind an old crate. He sat him down carefully and wrapped a jacket around his shoulders — heavy, warm, grounding.
Then he snapped his fingers right in front of Tim’s face.
Tim flinched, the lenses of his domino mask flicking open wider in surprise. Jason was no longer wearing his helmet. He was crouching in front of him.
“There you are,” Jason said, the ghost of a smirk in his voice. “Still on Earth. Mostly.”
He pressed Tim’s staff into his hands — clean now, or as clean as it could be. The weight of it was familiar. Comforting.
“What’s your name?” Jason asked gently.
Tim answered automatically, the grip around the staff tightening like muscle memory. “Timothy Jackson Drake.”
“Alias?”
“Zero.”
Jason nodded, the helmet tipping slightly. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen,” Tim replied.
Jason tilted his head. “Still look fourteen, though.”
That cut through the fog like a knife.
Tim’s head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he shot Jason a glare. “Hey!”
Jason let out a quiet breath — something close to a laugh. Relief, mostly.
Tim blinked, the brief spark of irritation quickly melting away. He looked down at his staff, then back up at Jason — hesitating. “What do we do about the body?” he asked, voice quieter now.
Jason studied him for a moment, silent. His eyes betrayed nothing, but Tim could sense the hesitation — not uncertainty in ability, but in what Tim was ready for. “What do you want to do?” Jason asked.
Tim paused, adrenaline drained, mind finally catching up with everything.
“...We should send a message to Black Mask.”
Jason nodded slowly, listening without interrupting.
“We should decapitate the body,” Tim continued, his voice steadier than he expected. “Leave the head somewhere public. Somewhere loud. A light pole. Somewhere Sionis or the press won’t miss it.”
Jason didn’t flinch. “I’ll get to it,” he said simply. As he stood and turned, he paused — just long enough to glance back.
“And remember,” he said, voice low and calm, “it was self-defense. Kill or be killed .”
Then he disappeared from Tim’s line of sight, his footsteps fading.
Tim sat still. Jason’s words circled like a storm in his head.
Kill or be killed.
His grip tightened around the staff. That phrase — it should have comforted him. Justified it. But it didn’t settle. It echoed, circling back again and again.
Because the part that scared him the most wasn’t the killing.
It was how easy it had been.
Just a little more pressure. A slight adjustment. A swing fueled by adrenaline — and the skull cracked.
Taking a life wasn’t some epic threshold. It wasn’t loud or dramatic.
It was quiet. Brutal. Simple.
And once you did it, there was no way back.
It was a one-way border.
And Tim had crossed it.
He stared down at his hands. At the bo staff.
He blinked. His breath caught.
Then he gripped the staff tighter… and let it go.
He was still himself.
He’d made a fatal mistake. But he wasn’t lost.
Not yet.
He gripped the staff again.
“I’m never accidentally killing anyone again,” he said under his breath, each word like a promise hammered into steel.
Killing out of necessity — if it truly was the only option — that he could live with.
But carelessness? A misjudged blow?
Never again.
Never .
×
“Today we’re standing at the corner of Crime Alley and Old Gotham,” the reporter began, the camera panning slowly across a dilapidated building now surrounded by police tape. “The corner building behind me was vandalized sometime last night. Most notably — the severed head of one of Black Mask’s henchmen was found impaled on a flag pole out front.”
The screen briefly cut to a grisly still of the scene before returning to the reporter.
“Police suspect the act was carried out by none other than Black Mask’s longtime rival — the Red Hood.”
The screen transitioned to a new segment as the reporter continued “And in typical Gotham fashion, we now turn to a self-proclaimed vigilante and villain expert — and local conspiracy theorist — whose video on the event has already gone viral on YouTube.”
The clip rolled. The backdrop was everything you’d expect from a conspiracy theorist’s lair — walls covered in maps, newspaper clippings, tangled red string, and far too many thumbtacks. The speaker wore a hoodie and stood in shadow, deliberately hiding his identity.
“Recently, Zero cut ties with all of his previous associates — Black Mask, Penguin, Two-Face, the whole gang,” the hooded figure explained. “He even [censor] blew up his old server hubs as a giant middle finger goodbye.”
The camera zoomed slightly as he turned and yanked a photo of Black Mask off the wall, holding it up.
“So what probably happened?” the conspiracy theorist’s voice crackled a bit. “Black Mask sends a goon after Zero. Zero, who’s now teamed up with Red Hood. Hood steps in to protect him. The goon ends up headless. Message received.”
The clip cut off abruptly.
Back in the studio, the news anchor cleared their throat, a bit too quickly. “And now, in lighter news — let’s take a look at Gotham’s weather.”
Jason whistled low as he shut off the news on his phone and glanced over at Tim. “You told me you had a guy who could make it look like I did it. Didn’t expect a full-blown conspiracy nut with a yarn wall and a YouTube channel.”
Across the room, Tim didn’t look up. He was hunched over his workbench, carefully adjusting something with a screwdriver “He was my classmate. Back when I still went to high school.”
Jason raised an eyebrow.
“I used to do conspiracy theories with him. For fun,” Tim continued, casually. “And I still enjoy them, honestly. Even after I dropped out, I kept in touch. Feed him crumbs now and then. So when I passed along the details, he was more than happy to do the rest.”
Jason leaned back, arms crossed. “He was just broadcasted on the news.”
“Exactly. Makes it harder to tell what’s fact and what’s smoke.”
There was a pause. Then Jason said, “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
Tim finally glanced up, expression flat. “You already are. But you're useful, so…”
Jason laughed — an honest, rough sound — and tossed him a wrapped protein bar. “Eat something, you terrifying little cyber cryptid.”
Tim caught it with one hand and turned back to his work, smirking faintly. “Thanks, Dad .” he said sarcastically.
Jason choked on a laugh. “Don’t ever say that again.”
Tim worked in silence for a few more minutes before placing everything down and pushing away from the desk.
Jason watched him. “How do you feel?”
Tim glanced over. “Hm?”
“About killing someone,” Jason clarified, voice quieter now. “How do you feel?”
Tim shrugged, a small movement. “Shaken up, but… not as bad as before. I don’t think I can handle killing someone accidentally again.”
Jason nodded, taking that in. “I’m here if you need to talk.”
“I’ll be okay. But thanks for the offer,” Tim said, grabbing the protein bar. He unwrapped it and ate quickly, then reached for his gloves. “The prototype’s almost done.”
“Speaking of prototypes,” Jason added, “Batman’s interested in seeing some of your tech.”
Tim froze mid-motion. His hand hovered over his glove. “Why?”
“He wants to deepen the alliance. You know — I’m a Bat, you’re working with me. That makes you part of the picture.”
Tim didn’t answer right away. He pulled on the glove slowly, thoughtful.
“I’ll think about it,” he said at last.
Jason nodded, grabbing his gear. “I’ll head out. Text or call if anything happens.”
Tim gave a half-wave. “Bye, Jay.”
×
The call woke him.
Tim blinked slowly at the screen, barely conscious, and accepted it without checking the caller ID.
He didn’t say anything — his brain was still booting up.
“Zero. Black Mask is attacking,” Jason’s voice came through, sharp and urgent.
Tim jolted upright, instantly awake. “Where?”
“North of Crime Alley. I need eyes — Oracle’s out for the night.”
Tim muted the call and scrambled out of bed, bolting downstairs. His socks slipped on the last step, but he caught himself on the railing and kept moving.
He slid into his chair, booted up the workstation, and reconnected. “Give me a sec to get on comms,” he said before hanging up and pulling on his mask.
A moment later, his voice crackled into Jason’s earpiece. “Red Hood, building on your left. Sixth window, third floor — sniper nest.”
Gunfire popped on the other end. “Good to have you on the grid, Zero.”
“I’m only here for a minute,” Tim replied, fingers flying across the keyboard. “Activating Plan D.”
There was a pause. “I don’t remember what that one is,” Jason admitted.
“Don’t worry about it,” Tim said with a grin. “Just watch.”
×
Jason leaned against the wall, waiting for instructions. But the comms had gone quiet on Zero’s end.
“Zero?” he prompted.
“You can move in,” came the eventual reply. “I’m working on something. I’ll ping you if there’s heavy resistance ahead.”
“Roger that,” Jason said dryly, the sarcasm thinly veiled. Still, he moved forward, quick and practiced, dropping a few goons with clean shots as he approached the warehouse Black Mask had fortified.
Above him, the streetlights flickered ominously.
Jason pressed his back to the warehouse entrance, listening. Inside, chaos was brewing.
“Boss? What were the orders?”
“Hello? Boss?”
“Larcy, we need a command!”
“Does anyone have orders?!”
“No, the comms are down!”
“Radio’s fried too!”
Jason let out a low chuckle, tapping his comm. “Zero, was that you?”
“Redirected all their channels into a digital void,” Tim said calmly, a hint of pride in his voice. “They’re yelling into static.”
Jason grinned behind his helmet. “You’re terrifying.”
“Live to be terrifying,” Tim replied dryly. “The lights inside will go out soon. As soon as you enter: three at your one o’clock, eight more spread across ten and eleven.”
“Advancing once the lights cut,” Jason confirmed.
×
Tim slipped on his gloves. The prototype wasn’t fully ready yet, but it had a built-in computer and USB interface — enough to work with.
He moved his hand, and the nanotech responded instantly, flowing over to him like liquid metal. A moment later, he put on his domino mask, and his bo staff materialized in his grip.
He could control the battlefield from his portable computer — but this time, he needed to step in personally. He couldn’t just leave all the physical work to Jason. If he did, people would assume he was just hiding behind Red Hood.
And Tim Drake didn’t hide. Not anymore.
He was done being just the tech guy. He could fight — and he could bring his tech with him.
He left the safe house, heading straight for Black Mask’s territory. No more hiding.
“Zero, where are you going? I can hear movement,” Hood said over the comms.
“I’m heading into Black Mask’s turf. I want to hit him where it hurts.”
“Zero—”
“No, Hood. Listen. I know the risks. I know what I’m doing. I’ll stay on comms, and I’ll call for backup if I need it.”
There was a pause.
“Then tell me where you're going. I want to be there — by your side,” Jason said.
Tim hesitated. He wanted to prove himself. But he also wanted backup. And more than that, he wanted to trust Jason.
“East end of Sionis territory. Red building with the busted antenna.”
“I’m on my way,” Hood said.
×
Jason reached the building first, eyes scanning upward just in time to see Tim climbing onto the rooftop with practiced ease.
“What’s the plan?” Jason asked, not because he doubted there was one — but because he knew Tim always had one.
“I’m cutting power to the entire block,” Tim said, already pulling up a glowing holographic keyboard. “Then we hit Sionis in his office. Fast and direct.”
Jason blinked behind his helmet. “That’s risky.”
“Exactly,” Tim replied, meeting his gaze. “Sionis expects us to play it safe. Stall. Corner him slowly and give him time to mount a counterattack. But nobody expects the ‘unprepared’ side to charge first.”
Jason paused. “That… makes a terrifying amount of sense.”
“We hit now. Either we take him down, or we shake him enough to break his grip.”
Jason gave a short nod. “Alright. I’m in.”
Tim’s fingers danced across the virtual keyboard. A few silent seconds passed — then the entire block went dark. Streetlights, building windows, interior security systems — all blacked out in a heartbeat.
Jason cracked his knuckles. “Let’s raise some hell.”
Tim glanced at him. “I’ll go in first. Comms on. You move in as backup the second I call for it — or if it sounds like things go sideways.”
Jason gave a short nod. “You got it.”
There was a beat of hesitation — just long enough to show Tim was thinking it through — then he turned and moved toward the building.
He double-checked the small pocket, making sure the nanotech was secure. No bo staff in hand, nothing overt to signal he was armed. He wanted Sionis to think he was vulnerable. An easy target.
Let him believe he had the upper hand.
Only to be the one left losing in this battle.
Or maybe it was war now.
Either way, Tim wasn’t going to let Sionis win — not when Red Hood had his back.
Zero moved swiftly in the shadows, his steps silent as he made his way to Black Mask's territory. He chose the rooftop as his entry point — an unassuming route that would keep him out of sight.
With practiced ease, he scaled the building, moving fluidly across the rooftop. The access door was unlocked, a sign that Sionis wasn’t expecting an intruder tonight.
Tim stepped into the stairwell, his hand instinctively brushing his pocket to ensure the nanotech was still secure. He descended quickly, and without a sound, entered the office.
The office was dark — as expected.
What Tim didn’t expect was Black Mask calmly sitting in his chair, stirring a cup of tea like he had all the time in the world.
Their eyes met through their masks.
“Nice to see you again, Zero,” Sionis said smoothly. “I figured you were coming the moment the block lost power.”
He paused, pointing the teaspoon at him like a conductor’s baton. “You’ve always been predictable like that.”
Tim stayed silent, momentarily caught off guard.
“Ah, right. Come, sit,” Black Mask gestured to the chair across the desk.
Tim hesitated — then crossed the room and sat, stiff but composed.
“No need to be so tense, Zero. We’re old acquaintances, aren’t we?”
Zero leaned back, arms crossed, trying to look unbothered. “I’m not here to catch up. I don’t crawl back even to my high school exes.”
Black Mask’s eyes snapped to him with sharp focus. “I’m not offering you an alliance. I’m suggesting you should want one.”
He reclined in his seat, voice smooth as poison. “In fact, I’ll even forgive your little team-up with Red Hood.”
Tim tilted his head, voice dry beneath the sarcasm. “Already missing the servers?”
“You’re hard to replace, I’ll give you that,” Sionis said, tapping the side of his teacup. “You were the best I had — managing intel, keeping the Bats off my back.”
“So what’s the offer?” Tim asked, leaning back. “Crawl back to you, fix your broken systems, and in return… what? You don’t kill me? Forgive me if I’m not buying it after the batarangs and that goon you sent after me.”
Sionis waved a hand lazily. “He was disloyal anyway.”
“So it shouldn’t matter if he’s headless now,” Tim replied evenly, watching for a twitch. “Shame it wasn’t me who did it, huh?”
“I’m more annoyed Red Hood beat you to it,” Sionis said, turning theatrically toward the window. “We both know you couldn’t kill anyone. Not really. No guts. No edge. You’d hesitate. Hit like a kid you are.”
He turned back to face Tim, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “That’s why you hide behind men like Red Hood.”
Tim didn’t respond immediately. He sat still, quiet. Let the weight of Sionis’s words settle. Let the man feel like he’d landed a hit.
But Tim knew the truth.
He had killed that goon.
And it hadn’t been hard.
“Still doesn’t mean I’d ever go back to you,” Tim said calmly.
Sionis exhaled through his nose — half sigh, half sneer. “Red Hood’s a temporary storm. Loud, dramatic, destined to burn out. His little empire? It’ll crumble. You? You need structure. Legacy. Fear. Me.”
Tim let the silence stretch, just long enough to make Sionis wonder if he was actually considering it. Then he smiled, slow and sharp behind the mask. It didn't matter that the man couldn't see it.
“You’re right about one thing,” Tim said. “Red Hood is loud and dramatic.”
He leaned forward, elbows on the chair’s arms, posture relaxed — calculated. “But he’s also effective. You noticed that, right? Not many people survive pissing off both the Bat and the mob. He’s still standing.”
“Barely,” Sionis snapped. “You’re gambling on a dead man walking.”
Tim tilted his head. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m betting on someone who already knocked out one of your teeth and is coming back for the rest.”
Sionis’s jaw twitched. For a second, the mask of calm cracked.
Tim stood slowly, stretching like he had all the time in the world. “Besides. I didn’t come here to negotiate.”
Black Mask blinked. “Then why are you here?”
Tim slowly and deliberately stepped toward him. For once, he didn’t feel a trace of fear. Only purpose.
He stopped just in front of Sionis, leaning in close enough to see the first flicker of uncertainty behind the villain’s mask.
“I was setting up a bomb with a drone,” Tim whispered.
A split second later, the floor beneath them shuddered violently as an explosion rocked the building. Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls and floor.
Sionis surged forward, reaching to grab him—
But he was already too late.
The window behind him shattered as Red Hood came crashing through, gun raised. A shot rang out, and Black Mask screamed as the bullet tore through his hand.
Sionis stumbled back with a snarl, clutching his bleeding hand. His other reached instinctively for the gun at his hip—
But Red Hood was already moving.
Another shot rang out. The weapon skittered across the floor.
Tim didn’t flinch. He watched, eyes sharp behind the mask, as Jason stalked forward, gun still trained on Black Mask.
“Surprise,” Jason said coldly. “Courtesy of your favorite tech support.”
Tim stepped to the side, letting Jason take the lead. His voice was calm. “Your servers? Torched. Your comms? Hijacked. Your men? Disoriented and leaderless.”
“You’re done,” Jason added, kicking Sionis’s legs out from under him. The man hit the ground hard, gasping.
Black Mask tried to spit something back, something cruel and smug—
But Tim cut in, tone ice-sharp even through the voice modifier. “You should’ve known. I don’t hide behind Red Hood.”
He crouched down, just enough for their masks to meet at eye level.
“I work with him.”
And for the first time, Black Mask didn’t have a retort. Just shallow, angry breathing.
Jason let out a low whistle. “Damn. Remind me never to piss you off.”
Tim stood up, pulling a flash drive from his belt. “You’ve said that before.”
Jason chuckled. “Then I’ll just make sure I stay on your good side.”
Tim dropped the flash drive in front of Sionis. “That’s your full criminal record. Along with all the evidence tied to it. You’re going to turn yourself in to the GCPD or—” He glanced at Red Hood.
“—I’ll find you,” Jason finished, voice cold. “And leave you six feet under. Permanently.”
Tim didn’t wait for a reaction. The job was done. No more words needed.
He turned, stepped through the shattered window, and disappeared into the dark — leaping effortlessly to the next rooftop, shadows swallowing him whole.
×
Tim was perched on a rooftop across from the wreckage of Black Mask’s office.
Below, the GCPD had blocked off the streets, scrambling to deal with the fallout.
Behind him, Red Hood landed with a heavy thud, his footsteps deliberate as he walked over and crouched beside him.
“B-man’s nearby, if you feel like introducing yourself,” Jason said, voice low.
Tim didn’t look away from the scene. “What now?”
“We’re just getting started,” Jason replied, and held out a juice box.
Tim took it silently, puncturing the straw and sipping without a word.
“There are still plenty of villains left,” Jason continued. “Gotham doesn’t run out of problems. But for now? We take over Sionis’s ops. Keep the pressure up. Keep moving forward.”
Tim hummed quietly in agreement.
Jason glanced at him. “You did good, Zero.”
Tim blinked, clearly surprised. He turned to look at Jason, but didn’t say anything.
Jason looked away, giving him the space to sit with the words.
After a moment, Tim let out a soft, almost reluctant, “...Thanks.”
A peaceful silence settled between them until Tim stood, crumpling the empty juice box in his hand.
“Let’s go meet Batman,” he said calmly.
Jason stood too, brushing dust off his pants. “Don’t have to go far.” He tapped his comm. “Don’t scare him.”
Bruce landed behind them with a soft thud.
Tim turned, blinking as he took in the figure of Batman in person — larger than life, but somehow quieter than expected.
Jason nudged Tim lightly. “C’mon. B-man doesn’t bite. But hey, if you want, you can bite him.”
Batman let out a familiar grunt.
Tim gave a small, awkward wave. “Hi. I’m Zero.”
“It’s good to meet you, Zero,” Batman said, steady and unreadable. “You’re notoriously hard to get a hold of.”
“I try,” Tim answered without missing a beat.
Batman studied him for a long moment, unreadable beneath the cowl.
“You did good work tonight,” he said at last. “Tactical. Efficient. You minimized casualties.”
Tim didn’t respond right away. Compliments always felt like puzzles — like he had to figure out what they really meant before reacting.
“I had help,” he said eventually, nodding toward Jason.
Jason gave him a brief, approving glance.
Batman didn’t look away. “I’ve seen your digital signature on half the security breaches in Gotham over the last year. Oracle flagged you as a ghost — someone smart enough to stay off our radar. That takes skill.”
Tim shifted slightly on his feet. “Are you gonna arrest me?”
Jason tensed at that, but Bruce only answered, “No.”
Tim blinked.
“We don’t waste potential,” Bruce said simply. “Especially not the kind that can blow out a city block and still leave the paper trail clean.”
Tim exhaled, just once. His shoulders dropped half an inch.
“I'm not joining your team,” he said, carefully.
“I didn’t ask,” Bruce replied.
Jason gave a low chuckle. “That’s Bat for ‘we’re inviting you anyway.’”
Batman didn’t confirm it, but didn’t deny it either. “If you want resources, access, or backup, the offer is there. You’ve proven you can operate independently. That’s respected.”
Tim considered that for a moment. He looked out over the city, glowing dim beneath the chaos.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
“That’s all I ask,” Batman said, and then — with a final look at both of them — he grappled away, disappearing into the night sky.
Silence lingered between them.
After a moment, Jason looked at Tim. “Uh, do you want to be alone? Or—”
“I want to think,” Tim said as he started to leave. “See you later.”
“Yeah, see you later,” Jason replied, watching him go.
×
Jason woke to the sound of the alarm shutting off.
Half-asleep, he grabbed the gun from his bedside table, instincts kicking in.
The door swung open, and Roy stepped inside.
Jason kept the gun trained on him.
“Jay, chill. It’s just me,” Roy said calmly.
Jason blinked and lowered the gun. “Who climbed in?”
“Why would you automatically assume someone broke in?” Roy asked, raising an eyebrow.
Jason stared back, unamused. “With my family? Roy, is that even a question?”
Roy shrugged. “Zero climbed in, disabled the alarm, then got confused when he saw me on the couch.”
Jason put his gun down and ran a hand through his hair. “Of course it’s Zero.” He got up, walking past Roy. “Get started on breakfast.”
He made his way to the living room and found Tim sitting on the floor, waiting.
“Could’ve called,” Jason said as he sat down on the couch. “What do you need?”
“Take me to Wayne Manor. I want to show Batman and Oracle my finished glove prototype and nanotech bo staff.” Tim said simply — more like a demand than a request.
Jason rolled his eyes slightly and stood up. “And here I was thinking it was something more dangerous.” He headed to the kitchen. “After breakfast.”
Tim got up and followed him. “What are you having for breakfast?”
Roy was already cooking scrambled eggs.
“Food,” Jason said sarcastically.
Tim rolled his eyes and sat down on the kitchen counter. “And here I was thinking you'd eat nails and gun parts for breakfast.”
Jason handed Tim a juice box. “I'm not giving you caffeine. You’re overcaffeinated at 16.”
Tim rolled his eyes and aggressively stabbed the juice box open, beginning to sip it. “Sure, Dad .”
Jason choked. “I told you not to call me that.”
Roy laughed. “Wow, Jay, I didn’t know you got a new sibling.”
“It’s been a while since Jay became my brother,” Tim said nonchalantly, despite Jason’s dumbfounded look.
Roy put plates of food in front of both of them “Less talking and more eating”
×
Jason drove the car straight into the Batcave — no reason to bother going through the entire house.
He parked and climbed out.
Tim hesitated only a moment before stepping out of the car.
Steph came rushing down the stairs and practically tackled Tim, almost making them both fall. “You could’ve called me for Black Mask ass-kicking!” she said, hugging him before punching his shoulder.
“I was sorta in a rush to get it over with,” Tim responded, trying to break free from the hug to no avail.
Cassandra appeared from the shadows and gently pried Steph off Tim. “Welcome,” she said calmly.
Tim nodded slightly, looking around the cave. “This place looks different from what I imagined.”
“More or less impressive?” Jason asked.
“I thought there’d be more tech stuff,” Tim said simply.
“That’s deeper in the cave,” Steph said with a grin.
Tim rolled his eyes lightly. “Sure,” he muttered.
Jason stretched his arms. “Alright, where’s this tech you’re dying to show off?”
“You’ll see,” Tim said. “Let’s get Batman and Oracle first.”
Cass nodded silently and disappeared into the shadows to retrieve them.
Before long, they’d all gathered in the center of the Batcave.
Jason lounged on the worn leather couch, Bruce was powering up the comms, and Steph and Cass were chatting off to the side. For the first time in a long while, Tim felt… almost comfortable.
The screen flickered to life, and Oracle’s camera came on.
Tim blinked.
It was Barbara Gordon. He wasn’t shocked — if anything, it just made sense.
“Hello, Zero,” she said with a warm but analytical tone. “I’m Barbara Gordon, also known as Oracle.”
Tim gave a small nod. “Tim Drake,” he said evenly.
That made Bruce pause.
He turned, eyes narrowing, brow furrowed — recognition flickering across his face like a ghost from a case long gone cold.
Tim stepped forward, unfazed by the attention. “Right. My prototypes,” he said casually, pulling out his phone.
With a few swift taps, the screen lit up — and then the air around him shimmered.
A quiet hum filled the Batcave as a cloud of microscopic nanobots surged out from the device, swirling around him like a living storm. Within seconds, they latched into place — forming a sleek, matte-black suit over his frame. A gleaming bo staff extended into his hand, its weight perfectly balanced.
He reached into a side pocket and calmly slipped on his mask, the final piece snapping into place.
Then, with a flick of his wrist, the staff dissolved into mist — only to reassemble itself in his other hand, smooth and seamless. Controlled. Precision-engineered.
Tim looked up, mask in place, eyes calm. “So,” he said, “what do you think?”
For a moment, no one spoke.
“Show-off,” Jason muttered, but there was no heat behind it — just a flicker of pride in his voice.
Barbara leaned forward slightly on her screen, eyes sharp behind her glasses. “That’s nanotech?” she asked, already analyzing the cloud of particles with laser focus. “Self-assembling, wireless control, adaptive reformation… You built this yourself?”
Tim gave a small nod. “From scratch. The gloves have a built-in holographic computer, onboard USB, and a virtual machine for virus scanning. Sensors in the palms help control the nanotech. My domino mask includes a neural interface — it improves control response when assembling the bo staff.”
Steph let out a low whistle. “Okay, that’s actually badass. I thought you were exaggerating with the ‘prototype’ thing.”
Cass tilted her head, watching the nanotech shift again — then gave him a quiet, approving nod.
Bruce took a step forward, arms crossed. “Impressive. I’ve known nanotech is the future, but even my R&D division hasn’t made this kind of leap yet.”
Tim just shrugged. “It made the most sense to me.”
Barbara smiled faintly, a spark of admiration in her voice. “Looks like we’ve found the best nanotech expert in Gotham — maybe even the world.”
Steph turned toward Tim, grinning. “So when are you becoming an official part of the team?”
Tim hesitated, eyes flicking briefly to Jason.
Jason met his gaze with a familiar calm and shrugged. “Up to you, kid. You’ve already got a place with me.”
Tim didn’t smile — not quite. But his eyes softened. “Let’s just say… I’m open to discussions.”
Cass glanced at him and signed ‘Today?’
Tim’s expression shifted. “I want something first.”
Jason looked at him curiously, then turned toward Bruce. Bruce gave a short nod. “Anything, Tim.”
“I have a friend,” Tim began, his voice steady. “She’s… mute. After an accident.” He left out the part where it had been Bruce’s fault. “I want her to have a safe place to live. And full medical coverage.”
“Cheri?” Jason asked, quiet now.
Tim gave a small nod. “She was there for me when no one else was.”
“I can do that,” Bruce said without hesitation.
Tim nodded again, “Thank you.”
“Thank you for trusting us, Tim” Barbara said, “even after some misunderstandings.”