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When shit went down, Wally and Roy made sure they were nowhere near the planet. A nice little interplanetary fuckery called for anyone free, and both of them had magically clean schedules, so off they went, praying to every god they knew about (and, with how many holy disasters they had faced between them, there were a lot) to be back after the worst of the mess had blown over.
Even if it meant missing the undoubtedly hilarious face Batman would make when he found out. Not even the chance of witnessing that was worth staying and waiting with bated breath until someone pointed out that, in the end, it was both their faults.
----.----
"So let me get this straight."
"Difficult for me, but go on."
Wally rolled his eyes, chucking a pillow at his little dude, wondering how Nightwing could do this with not one, not two, but three badly adjusted little brothers (and that without counting the girls, though, to be honest, they already had Babs). Truly, a hero of the ages. Arsenal just cackled from his place in front of the coffee table, where he was keeping them company and cleaning his equipment.
"I’m serious. I’ve never seen you this mad without a bad guy to blame for it."
"Well…"
"As furious as you are at them, Bart, they are still the good guys."
"Debatable ."
Wally threw another pillow, and Bart, arms crossed and all but vibrating on the couch, didn’t even bother on dodging. Just moved his particles quick enough that the thing went straight through him.
Arsenal raised an eyebrow at them. "It’s scary when you do that. Like a freaking ghost."
"It’s scary that Tim’s whole family can be this level of neglectful, but you don’t see me bitching at them."
"Only because you know they’ll give you your ass back to you in a silver platter after they are done whooping it", interjected the older speedster, snack bag on his lap, a few more by the ground at his feet, sitting as close to Bart as the whole ‘don’t touch, I bite’ aura he had around him would allow.
"Kinky."
This time, Wally’s pillow was aimed at the archer. Roy just dodged without looking, still cross legged on the other side of the little table facing the couch.
"Real talk now, it’s not like they are jerks on purpose. We all know the Bats are on a whole new level of ‘always busy’, it’s to be expected they wouldn’t have time for social niceties."
Wally winced, scooting a little further away from Bart when he looked up to glare at Roy. That wasn’t a nice look. That was a ‘I can take you to someplace no one would hear you scream in less than ten seconds’ look.
"My seventeen year old best friend managed to finish high school after having to take a year off to go look for his missing mentor, going through several different mourning processes and dodging a frankly creepy cradle robber of a ninja terrorist, all while kicking ass and taking names, taking care of a huge as hell company, and keeping up the intel guy work for the rest of his shitty family. And he still graduated early. The least they could do after the fuckery he was put through by their collective stupidity would be go as moral support, but no. No, other things are more important than such a big milestone on his life. Fuckers."
Wound down after the rant, Bart dropped back on the couch, shrinking in place, oozing contempt from every pore.
Roy raised his eyes to share a look with Wally. Even if the bro code meant they were contractually obligated to defend their respective best friends, there was undeniable truth to Bart’s statement. Jason had gone on killing sprees for far less than Tim’s situation, and God knows Dick would have showed a big middle finger at his mentor and go off world with the Titans as a protest at the slightest fight. All in all, Red Robin was taking it like a champ.
"Jason’s busy with the Torinelli drug cartel thingie", tried Roy nonetheless, loyal as one could be.
Wally nodded. "And Dick had already promised Damian to go on a camping-training trip that weekend..."
"Great. So criminals that aren’t going anywhere and the ‘favorite’ demon child are more important than my best friend’s graduation, which isn’t even a long thing, just a couple hours and a few photos. Awesome. Do you happen to know Batman’s excuse? I mean, I’m sure is equally as shitty as his sons’ excuses, but, you know. Variety and stuff."
Wally sighed, because yeah, point. Were it Bart’s graduation, nothing short of the end of the world would have kept him from going, but, again, he only had one little dude to worry about. Dick’s house was full.
"You’ll be there," tried Roy, dropping his arrow back on the table and resting his crossed arms next to it, leaning forward to look straight at Bart, "you and the rest of the brats, right? Supes and Diana’s babies. You guys may not be related like that, but that’s not necessary for you to be family."
Like the Teen Titans were, went unsaid- the older heroes exchanged a glance, reminiscent of their days fighting side by side under Dick’s unwavering leadership. No matter where they were now, that’s where they both came from.
"Yeah", accepted Bart, but the frown hadn’t left his face. "It’s just. His parents are dead, his ‘foster’ bat-family are dicks. He has us, yeah, but… I wished he could have his family there, you know. Like, if I could adopt him, I would, just so he can have that."
Wally dropped the empty snack bag onto the ground and took a new one, tipping it in Bart’s direction as a peace offering. "I mean, it’s still a month away, maybe one of them would clear his schedule and go? Probably not all of them, but anything’s better than nothing, right?"
Bart harrumphed, hunching even lower in the couch, pout still present.
"If anything else fails", joked Roy, going back to cleaning his stuff, "I hear Kara’s single right now, and Tim’s an emancipated minor. Get them to marry each other, and then your Super friend is technically his brother- or something like that. Political families still counts."
Bart went still for a second, and if Wally were less invested in his snack and more on the thoughtful expression on his face, he might have known ahead of time that his next words were a bad, bad idea.
"And if she’s not on board, you could always ask someone else on your team. Team as family and all that shit, Tim would literally be marrying into the fam. Want some chips?"
But Bart was already gone.
"Huh?", blinked Roy. "Where'd he run to?"
"..."
"...You don't think he…"
"What? No. No, of course not, they aren't so dumb..."
For a horrible second, Roy and Wally crossed eyes again, both remembering the stupid shit they got up to when they were seventeen, and replayed the conversation. Their jokes, that anyone with half a brain would take as that, as silliness. Then came the thought that being stupid was almost a requirement for being a Titan.
With the kind of synchronicity one could only have after fighting side by side for years, they both jumped to their feet at the same time.
"I’ll hit Kori up, maybe she has some alien fuckery to deal with and we can tag along."
"Imma call Supes and let him know we’ll be off planet for a while. Shit, Dick’s gonna flip . He was the big B for a while, he knows stuff. Painful stuff."
"Dude, he at least doesn’t kill. Jay has guns, and it’s his favorite brother we’re talking about."
A shiver went through them when Batman’s reaction came to mind.
"If Kori’s not dealing with something, I’ll ask her to start shit up somewhere far, far away to give us an excuse to leave either way. She’s a goddess like that, she’ll help."
"Good thinking. I’ll start packing."
---.----
The secret meeting was held at one of Tim’s safe houses, because it had enough lead on the walls there was no risk of Superman overhearing them. Not that the owner of the place was aware of it; no one was, besides Cassie, Kon and Bart themselves. Keeping it hush hush was vital for the success of the mission.
"All on board then?"
Kon’s smile could light up a town. "Hell yeah dude. I’ll take care of getting Tim time off from work. Tam knows me and I’m fairly sure she doesn’t hate me as strongly as she does the bats. Fair warning though, she might ask to come with."
"She’s cool, so I’m in. We’re gonna need a witness anyway."
Cassie nodded, fierce smirk and challenge in her eyes. "This is gonna piss so many people. Hey, do you think if we let Oracle in the know she’ll give us footage of the bats' faces when they find out?"
Bart bit his lip. "As crash as that would be, I don’t think it’s worth the risk."
Cassie deflated, but then shrugged it off. "We’ll ask Tim, then. He’s as good as her with hacking, I’m sure he’ll figure something out."
"If he doesn’t kill us first, you mean."
"Don’t be a coward, Kon. I thought you were in."
"I’m not saying I’m backing down, just that we should put our business in order in case he snaps and murders us in cold blood. I know he has it in him, if pushed the right ways."
She nodded, because point. The almost feral look on her face wasn’t gone, though. "Worth it. I'll be in charge of clothes. You reckon there's any chance I can get a dress on him?"
"Sure, if you want him to actually break his no kill rule."
"Fine, but he's wearing white anyway. It goes well with his skin tone."
Bart extended his first for her to bump. "Now you're talking. I'll be the extraction man and take him to the place."
Kon crossed his arms, looking conflicted for the first time. "We can't go the classic way about it, because a fake name would mean he won't take seriously what we're trying to do, and if we use his real one in a formal document, it'll hit the news before the ink has a chance to dry. And then he'll kill us for sure."
"You're awfully worried about him drawing blood, Blue. What gives?"
"He's scared shitless of Cassie and you're too adorable to hurt, but me? I'm the one he's gonna focus his rage on, and you know how he gets when at his limit."
Cassie snorts. "He can't live without you, you dork. I think we are all safe. And anyways, the plan is to make him too drunk to walk on a straight line, he wouldn't be able to hurt us."
"You say that", interjected Bart, getting up from where he was crouching above their carefully spread, color coded sheets of plans; Tim would be so proud, "but I've seen the dude drop kick someone with a broken leg once. He can fuck shit up no matter the situation."
"True… still, we are doing it, right?"
"Oh yeah, for sure, I just wanted everyone aware that it might be our last big bang."
"Then we better make sure it's one hell of an explosion, am I right?"
"Hell yeah."
"This is gonna be so crash!"
----.----
The entire thing had gone something like this.
On friday, Tam made Tim turn around and head back home the second he showed his face at the office, claiming the bags under his eyes clashed terribly with her new Prada handbag and she’d rather had it than him around. In Foxspeak, it meant ‘go the fuck to sleep or so help me God’. Tim would have fought back just on principle, but Tam had him at a standstill, because the spleen thing could very easily reach Alfred’s ears if he crosses her, and no one (him) wants that. As if to make sure he would obey, she demanded they share the car that would take her to the airport (did she have some meeting out of Gotham? He couldn’t remember) and dropped him at his Perch on her way there.
He wasn’t actually planning on sleep, maybe work some of his cases from home, start patrol early, possibly tracking Jason down to offer his help for the drug cartel thing. Confused by the unexpected way his morning had gone so far, he was woefully underprepared for a flash of red and yellow to whisk him from his living room the second he put his carrier bag on the ground.
It was only years from using his team as glorified uber drives what kept him from nerve striking Bart on reflex. Knowing whatever he asked would be lost to the background sound of super fast travelling, he merely slumped over the thin shoulder he was thrown over and waited till they reached their destination.
Which… he wasn’t expecting Vegas.
The next few hours were a blur of his team explaining they had planned this gateaway as an early graduation party, hugs and a few grateful tears on his part, and booze. So much booze. He was trained by Batman, he had a bigger than average resistance to… well, everything, and still, he got so, so wasted.
Saturday’s hungover was cured with more booze. They hit casino after casino, danced over tables, payed a bar owner to close for the night and let them work their way through his entire supply, went to some neon party at someone’s exceedingly large hotel suite (the guy wasn’t getting his deposit back), his cellphone was thrown on a fountain after Cassie got sick of it going off again and again with Dick’s predetermined ringtone, drank some more, were kicked out of yet another casino...
At some point Tam appeared (a very drunk Tim had hugged her and spun her around so fast her stilettos went flying and almost blinded someone), and they all went back to the hotel, where Kon basically manhandled him into a white suit. More booze when Tim started asking questions, followed by a two hour long stay at some park were Cassie, Bart and Kon took turns holding his hand, and then each others’, with Tam saying something about bonds, and family, and sickness, and health in the background, Kon muttering something in kryptonian and making Tim repeat it, Cassie dropping to one knee and sprouting some Amazonian speech, Bart jumping on his back after his own speech (futuristic laws and all) was done, then more booze, partying and….
Well, everything was a blur, before and after that.
They woke up saturday morning with the worst headache, in a undignified puppy pile back at their suit, minus Tam who apparently had her own room. Kon’s TTK took care of the blinds and Tim blinked awake at the sound (Robin instincts), looked at his sleeping friends and then went back to sleep, head pillowed by Bart’s butt, with Cassie’s knee denting his ribs and Kon’s arm thrown over his neck, completely disregarding the three rings hanging from his shiny new necklace.
That was a problem for sober Tim to solve.
---.----
Monday morning, Tim went back to the office, Tam by his side, acting like everything was perfectly fine.
Dick called after lunch asking about his whereabouts that past weekend, claiming he was missed during patrol, but backed down when informed he was actually relaxing with his friends. Bruce didn’t ask, probably had tracked him down the second he couldn’t find him and let him be after realizing he was at Las Vegas.
Everyone that saw them walking down WE’s hallways would have swore a trail of classic music followed them, graceful and elegant.
In Tim’s mind, however, the background sound was the kill bill sirens and blaring red lights.
Tam felt like a queen, coming back after conquering treacherous lands.
Tim felt like Jason may have been onto something when he died.
----.----
When the Big Day (capital letters included) arrived, and Tim got into the stage to accept his diploma (Honor Student, of course), his eyes automatically went to the loud, rowdy teenagers, sitting as close to the front as possible, cheering and smiling.
He was far enough that it could’ve been a trick of the light, but he thought he could see all three of them going misty-eyed. His own eyes watered when he shook the headmaster's hand and posed with his diploma for the cameras (Wayne Heir Graduating would be trending on every magazine by dinnertime), his friends never stopping yelling his name.
When the time came to throw the little hats, he catched by the corner of his eye how Bart held both Cassie’s and Kon’s hands, keeping them from flying in their emotion. If one paid close attention, their feet actually were floating juuust above the ground. They were just so genuinely excited for him, it was… it was amazing.
After as little smalltalk as possible with his classmates, he sneaked away into some hidden spot, away from prying cameras, and waited. Sure enough, his best friends were there barely ten seconds later, and using that same speed, they swept him off his feet. Bart was the first, latching to his front, Kon a close second jumping on his back and hugging his head. Cassie, ever the showoff, threw her hands around the three of them and spun them around as if they weighted nothing to her. That was probably the case.
"You did it, you did it, you did it!!!! Oh my god, this is so crash!!!"
"Not that we had any doubt, with that big brain of yours. Making a girl so proud."
"Speak for yourself. Personally, I feared the worst. This is Gotham, after all."
"But nothing happened! And you GRADUATED!"
Tim let out a laugh, allowing himself to just feel joy. Letting them see him like that, as payment for being the most awesome friends (family) in existence, he returned the hug, squeezing back as strongly as his non meta arms could.
Then, a voice behind them that he absolutely didn't expect. "Congratulations, Master Timothy."
Without letting any of them go, Cassie turned around, so they could all see Alfred Pennyworth, in his Sunday’s best, looking proud and warm, his eyes glazed over with nostalgia when they landed on his young charge. One of the young men he had the honor to watch grow into the amazing person he was today.
Even more surprising, he held a tablet on his arms, screen facing them, with a familiar figure there, white streak and leather but no firearms, probably cautious of possible civilians around.
"Hey, baby bird. Sorry ‘couldn’t be ther’ p’rsonally. Hope ya don’t mind me an’ Alfie crashing like this."
"A-Alfred? Jason? What… I thought you were in Russia!!"
The man on the screen scratched the back of his head, visibly uncomfortable but determined.
"Am, actually. But it’s yer big day, babybird. Wouldn’t missit for the world."
Tim’s already watery eyes just overflowed.
-----.----
It took a month for shit to hit the fan. Tim was honestly impressed, because things rarely went his way, and getting more than a few hours to mentally prepare for Disaster? Unheard of. What a shocker.
When it did went down, it was in large part because he was milking the ‘no metas in Gotham’ rule that kept his team at bay and allowed him to go days without sleeping. Kon would say it was karmatic retribution for ignoring their orders to relax and take it easy. He would protest, but really, how to deny the truth; if not for his sleep deprivation, his secret would have gone a lot longer without being unveiled.
Between hacking into Lexcorp, running the dna samples he took during patrol half an hour ago on the database and finishing his report of the night, he was out of fucks to give. Damian bitching on his ear was the last drop.
"...And your mere presence here is an insult to Grayson's legacy. He founded it, Todd died for it, what did you even contribute to it?"
A slow blink. Tim was aware his brain to mouth filter was as good as gone, but tired as he was, he just didn't care.
"Besides providing the brains on this whole fucking operation? Pants, I guess. Common sense. Ninja skills commended by your own grandfather, the king of ninjas. Virtue, too, since Dick is a verified hoe and Jason slept with your/"
"C'mon Timmy", cut in Dick, Nightwing suit halfway down his chest, when Damian's face was turning an alarming shade of blue, "aren't you a little old to be fighting a kid?"
"Who are you calling kid?!"
Typical, big bro to the rescue. Tim was too tired to be disappointed that once again Dick was siding with an eleven year old bully that kept harassing Tim. Never mind that he had been minding his business before Damian came to bark at him.
"Boys", chided Bruce and, huh, Tim had said that out loud. Whatever, not like it wasn't true. Fuck them.
"Fuck you", he told… Bruce? Dick? Definitely Damian, too, so... "all."
"Tim!", gasped Dick. Still half naked. Standing right by Damian's side.
That kid was going to have a very uncomfortable sexual awakening any day now.
"SHUT UP, DRAKE! YOU ARE DISGUSTING!"
Wow he really needed to stop talking out loud.
"Tim", and now Bruce was walking towards them, frown firmly in place, "you are obviously too tired, if you can't control what comes out of your mouth. Go to sleep."
Tim hissed at him. Dick looked too shocked to answer but Bruce, somewhat used to that reaction of the sleep deprived teen, loomed even more.
"I'm an emancipated adult. I control your company. I live on my own. You're not the boss of me."
Now even Damian was looking at him open mouthed. Whatever. The computer pinged with his results, just as his phone did with his 'The hubbies and waifus' group chat.
"What's gotten into you, kiddo?", now Dick was worried, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Still half naked, that was an important detail.
Tim shrugged him away.
"Fucking demon spawn coming from nowhere to fuck with me just for the hell of it puts me in a bad mood, I'm weird like that", he deadpaned, replying to the group chat one handed. "And the rest of this fucked up team siding with him just because he's a bad word away from a violent psychotic break doesn't help. Fuck off and let me do my shit, and I'll be out of your hair before you know it."
And then, with a sneer, ignoring both Bruce's and Dick's flabbergasted expressions, Damian said what would be Tim's down fall.
"Go to hell, Drake."
A ping made Tim look down at his phone and he replied without thinking, one hand tapping away at the screen. "Wait, let me ask my wife."
A beat of silence. One sneer, one grunt, one surprised gasp.
Bruce made a half step towards him. "Tim, what/?"
A ping.
"She says no. Hang on, let me get you a second opinion, just to be safe."
"Timmy, what do you mean/?"
Another one.
"Husband number one says no, too. Husband number two hasn't replied, probably asleep or traveling somewhere, but two already win by majority. It seems it's a ‘no’ on going to hell for me. Bummer, it would have been funny seeing your homeland, brat."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"Aaaaand that’s my cue to interrupt", announced a new voice above them all. Kon, phone at hand, looked down with half amused, half guarded expression. "Someone hasn’t held their end of the deal and slept eight hours, huh, bud?"
Tim, ignoring his family that hadn’t yet recovered from the bomb, shrugged. "I slept eight hours. This past week. You never said they had to be consecutive hours."
The super just sighed and landed long enough to haul a too tired to resist bird in his arms. "I can see you aren’t getting any sleep in Gotham. Let’s go back to the Tower, Cassie wants us to see The Princess Bride with her again."
"Don’t lie to me, you liar."
"Bart wan/"
"Look at my face and tell me the truth."
"Okay, I want to see The Princess Bride again", he conceded, taking flight towards the closest exit, sleepy bird cocooned in his arms and TTK. "Later, bats!"
"..."
"..."
Finally, Dick snapped back to reality, although the background noise in his head was one would expect in suspense movies right before the assassin jumped a unsuspecting protagonist.
"...did he say ‘husbands’? As in, married?"
"..."
"AS IN MORE THAN ONE?"
----.----
"Batman, here we are. It’s been a time since you last called an emergency meeting. Is everything okay?"
"Were you aware that our children eloped together?"
"...what."
"As in, my third kid, your first one, Diana’s second, and Barry’s… grandchild. I’m not exactly sure about who married who, but there was more than one wedding and they have a group chat called ‘hubbies and waifu’. Whatever that means."
"..."
"..."
"That’s my girl. I always told her, go big or go home."
"Diana, no."
----.----
Cassie’s phone went off again with her specific Diana ringtone again, and she gave up, turning it off and throwing it on the pile with Kon’s, Bart’s and Tim’s (the last one had four all by himself, so it was quite a big ‘phone tower’; Hah, pun intended).
"You’re gonna freak out so badly over this when you actually wake up", she informed Tim’s fluffy hair.
Said vigilante only released a cute little snore, face buried on her lap, legs thrown over Kon’s, one hand that had fallen from the couch resting on Bart’s head where he sat on the floor in front of them.
"Well, they were going to find out one way or another. And this was probably among the best scenarios."
"How? This was probably out of Tim’s ‘worst case’ nightmare list."
"I was there and saw their faces. I didn’t even know Batman could express any emotion other than ‘cold’ and ‘overflowing with rage’. That image will bring me joy in future distressing times, I’m sure. My patronus memory, if you will."
"I’m soooooooo jealous, dude."
Cassie snorted, carefully not moving an inch, fingers cradling through Tim’s hair. Over her dead body would he ever cut it, now that it was finally long enough to make itty tiny braids all over it, her favorite therapeutic iddle work.
"We’ll make Tim give us footage when he wakes up. He has to provide for us, after all."
Kon let his arm, resting on the backrest of the couch, fall over Cassie’s shoulders. "Be sure to include footage from after we left, too. Nightwing’s ‘As in more than one?!’ part was solid gold."
"No kidding, I want that as my ringtone for you and Tim", chimed in Bart, carefully moving Tim’s hand back to the couch and then running to the kitchen. "Ice cream?"
"Do you even need to ask?"
---.----
By the time Tim woke up, the hero gossip network had done it’s thing, and everyone with a costume was aware of the news. Even Cissie, who was officially retired, and Zachary Zatara, away on his shows and usually out of reach, had called, the first one to offer congratulations and ask if the thing was real emotionally-wise, the second to just laugh at them for full six minutes before hanging up.
He did text them later, asking when the celebration ceremony would be.
"It’s not a bad idea", mused Cassie, showing them her phone screen with the magician’s text. "A party, I mean."
Tim, from his place working a case on the Titan’s main computer, tuted. "Batman might actually kill me for that. I think we’ve survived this far only because there are no written records making this official, and a part of him must think this is some elaborate prank."
"It’s not", insisted Bart, head poking out of the kitchen, "we are family now, officially. No take backs."
Their Robin shifted in place just enough for them to see his smile, a gift on itself. "I know, guys, and the sentiment is much appreciated. But from a legal standpoint, it’s not that different from what a few kids on a playground could do while playing family. Only place this could stand against judgement would be the future, some ancient Amazonian tribe, or Krypton."
"Doesn’t matter, as long as it’s true for us. And, I mean, we didn’t want to cut your options if you ever wanted to actually get married the classic way."
This time, their bird actually turned around, a warmth on his expression that he usually reserved for his team. It made them feel special like nothing else.
"Yeah, I know. Thank you for that. It was really considerated."
As if they would drag Tim into something like legal marriage without previous consent. The fact that he even felt the need to thank them for showing him basic human decency was making their blood boil with the need to punch a bat on the face.
Kon flew over, the high chair preventing him from draping himself on his best friend’s back, but not from hugging his neck and messing his hair.
"Back at my point", cleared her throat the amazonian, "your former mentor can suck my metaphorical Freudian dick. We could throw a party, and it would only be different from a normal one because marriage celebrations include gifts, which I’m totally for. I haven’t seen Zatara, Cissie, Greta and Anita in a while, and Miguel, Raven and Gar might murder us for not telling them about our plans and not making it up to them with a party. No ‘adults’ out of the team, or mentors, invited, enough alcohol to re-drown Atlantis, fancy food bought with Bat’s credit card…"
"You are right, it does sound kinda nice", hummed Kon, floating just out of Tim’s range when former Wonder Boy tried to slap his hands away. Silly bat, always denying affection.
"All in favor?"
"I don’t know...", giving up, Tim went back to his case files. "I have a lot to do this days, and there’s a lead that might take me to Asia…"
"Isn’t Cass there? Ask her to take over it for you, as a marriage present or something. C’mon Tim, do it for the gifts. Imagine what Zatara might get for us. So crash."
"If it’s a magical object, I won't want it anywhere near me. We bats don’t have the best track record with that stuff, and I swear to god if I get deaged I would use my non-prosecutable age to murder someone. Probably Zatara himself."
"Adorable as that might be, it totally won’t happen."
----.----
"....can you repeat it one more time? Slower, though. I think I’m getting hearing problems."
Raven, through the video call connecting the Cave with the Tower, didn’t seem fazed by Nightwing’s slightly threatening tone.
"I said, the team had a party, everyone got drunk, and it was fine for a while. I was watching over them, but then I needed to use the restroom. When I got back, someone had gotten ahold of Zachary’s gift for Tim, Cassie, Kon and Bart, and…"
"Why for those four?", asked Hood, standing right by N’s side. He had came in during Raven’s first explanation, and felt like there was something he was missing.
"It was a marriage gift. Moving on…"
"A what?! Since when is Lil Red married? The fuck happened while I was in Russia?!"
"...someone had gotten ahold of the gift", Raven kept going, cool as a cucumber. On the background behind her, teen heroes were running back and forth, people were screaming and something was smoking, "which happened to be some sort of magical artifact. Zachary wasn’t really aware of what it did, he just randomly choose it from among his collection of magical tools when he remembered at the last possible time a gift was mandatory for a wedding party. I returned from the bathroom and everything was a mess, the couch was turned upside down, a pipe had burst, the tv was on fire and Tim had been de aged."
There was a battle scream, in a distinctly childish voice, somewhere on the room out of view of the camera, and Raven’s eyes left the screen for a second as if looking at it.
"Was that Red Robin?", Batman, because of course he was listening in, started typing at the console, frantically trying to get a new angle to see what was going on on the Tower.
"He’s unharmed, and everything is under control."
Another scream, this time louder.
"...that didn’t sound under control", mused Dick, apparently still processing the information. Bruce typed faster. Robin gripped his sword tighter, as if readying himself for a war.
Jason still looked utterly lost.
"Marriage? She said marriage? AND YOU ASSHOLES KNEW ‘BOUT THIS?!"
"He’s… throwing a tantrum", the woman ignored him, still looking only at her former leader. "Something about using his age to kill Zatara without being convicted. I’ll need to leave now, I only called to ask you to take over Tim’s cases while we solve this issue."
"Wait! Rae, if Timmy’s a kid, he needs to be with us. We are his family, it’s our jurisdiction."
A green bird suddenly landed on her shoulder, halthing whatever response she might give. Gar pecked her on the cheek lightly before turning his beak their direction.
"Husbands and Wives get priority, N, you know that. Cassie, Kon and Bart are looking after him, and keeping him from killing Zachary, while the rest of us research how to turn him back. Zach is actually trying to contact his cousin, maybe the great Zatanna will quicken this process. So, yeah, no Bats allowed on the Tower until then!"
"But/!"
A loud crash, followed by a wail, made Gar wince and Raven’s head to snap to the side and growl.
"Whelp, gotta go, Tower out!", a ‘Tim!’ could be heard in the background just before the screen went dark.
"..."
"..."
"..."
"...Anyone gonna fill me in?"
"Drake eloped thrice over without informing us and has been living in sinful unworthiness with his three partners since last month or so, that we know about. Probably more."
"...Partners?"
"You heard her. The speedster, clone and amazonian."
"..."
"..."
"Dickie, how t’fuck did ya allow’is to happen?!"
"IT’S NOT LIKE I WAS ASKED FOR MY BLESSING, JASON!"
"B, what the utter hell, ain’t ya supposed to keep track of this kinda shit?!?"
"..."
"Don’t bother, Father has been broken since learning of Drake’s mistake, and will go unresponsive at the most inconvenient times."
"..."
"Fuck, I need a drink. Also, ’m going there."
"You heard Gar, Jay", pointed out Dick, "we can’t just walk in there, and the Tower is legally his. We have to be smart about this, plan this through, and/"
"Yeah, no, he said ‘no bats’", gesturing at his gun holsters, he started to walk to where his bike was parked. "RIP ya’ll, but I’m different. See ya."
"..."
"..."
"Tt. Useless. I’ll go back to training. Father, Grayson, should you two, as the plebeians say, ‘snap out of it’ and come with a good plan to get Drake back under our tutelage, I’ll be by the mats waiting."
"..."
"...Don’t look at me like that. I raised him for a few months tops, but he’s your kid, not mine. Same with Tim, and Jason’s entirely your fault."
---.---
Meanwhile, back at the Tower, Kon let out a screeching ‘Tim!’ before diving out and catching the baby bird in his arms, halting his fall from the ceiling rafters where he had been climbing. Behind him, Cassie let out a relieved breath.
"God’s above, you almost gave me a heart attack. Okay, new ground rules, this two little feet stay on the ground."
Tim, as proudly as a three year old toddler could, frowned at him.
"Don’t patwonize me, Kon. And lemme go, I havta cacth Zac/ Zat/… Magic-boy."
Bart materialized by their side, arms looping below Tim’s armpints to carry him to the recently put back to its correct place couch. He dropped there, tiny bird in his lap, cooing all the while.
"Aww, you’re precious."
" I could still huwt you", pointed the toddler, resigning himself at being manhandled.
"I know", replied Bart lovingly, softly stroking his turf of hair.
Somewhere on the side, Cissie clapped her hands, getting rid of the dust there.
"Okay, I putted out the fire, so now I’ll be heading home. This magical bullshit is out of my ‘retired’ comfort zone."
Cassie landed by her side and gave her a quick hug, while Greta walked up to them. "I understand, thanks for coming."
"Give us a call when this is solved, we can have a coffee while you complain about your husbands. And… child, now, I guess. God, it was already weird calling Tim your husband, but now he’s a baby and it's doubly weird. Figure this out quickly."
"Will do. See you guys later."
One by one, they all left, some offering their support (appreciated, but not needed, thank you, we’ll manage), some still laughing. In the end, only the Core Four, Gar, Raven and Miguel remained. Zachary probably was there somewhere (if he dared leave without helping them fix this, he was dead meat), but out of the enraged toddler’s sight, which. Wise.
Even if said little human being was pint sized and cow eyed, he was probably still the most dangerous person in the room, unarmed or not (you know what, scratch that; if time with Tim taught them anything, was that no bat was ever unarmed. Even bare handed, their own bodies were weapons).
"...So... What should we do while we wait for Zatara’s solution?"
"I vote movie night. It’s not like we can keep on drinking, with a kid in the room/ Auch! Pointy elbows, Tim!"
Kon swooped in, picking Tim from Bart’s not invulnerable lap and cuddling to him on the couch by the speedster’s side. Tim knew better than to hit the boy of Steel without proper equipment, so he let himself fall back against the broad chest. Cassie, talking to the older members of the team on the side, smiled softly at them before returning to her conversation.
As mad as his current situation made him Tim couldn’t bring himself to pout too much. It had been a fun night, all things considered.