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The fight had only just started, and everything was already in shambles.
Some witch had capitalized on some magical property that had to do with the moon or the water or something or other and used her newfound powers to rip a hole in the fabric of reality, creating a portal straight to the demon realm.
Which was honestly not cool of her.
Every hero they could reach was out in Metropolis, swatting down demons and devils and all sorts of fanged beasts with a frantic fervor that could only be matched by college students right before an exam. Red Robin exhaled heavily as his bo staff collided with a thick demon skull, letting out a meaty thump as he propelled himself over sharp teeth and onto a wiry, furred back.
Holding on to the bucking Beelzebub for dear life, Red Robin grabbed a mini explosive from his belt and stuck to the back of the demon’s neck, leaping off and sprinting to the next monster as it exploded violently. Sweat ran down his forehead in rivers, clinging stubbornly to the corners of his mask. He ducked under a demon as it swung at him, kicking its jaw shut and punting it toward Superman, who readily punched the thing in the face.
Taking a moment to see where he was needed as the heroes steadily overwhelmed the dimensional invaders, Tim locked eyes with a tall, thin figure with red eyes that glowed brighter than the flames that surrounded them.
“Fuck,” Tim said with feeling, knowing a bad situation when he saw one.
The new demon, unlike the others that came before it, smirked, its human-like mouth quirking into a snarl that revealed sharpened teeth. In one smooth movement it turned to him, then burst into a cloud of black smoke.
“Double fuck,” he groaned, scrambling over stray pieces of debris as his mind raced. “Oh mister smoke demon, please don’t come here,” he muttered as he reached for his grappling hook, mentally plotting his escape route toward someone better capable of handling a rampaging smoke monster. A few streets over, he could see Captain Marvel brawling it out with something in the air, the clashing of his fists shaking the sky with every blow.
Okay, so Marvel wasn’t free, got it. Time for Plan B. He grappled onto a building and promptly flung himself off of it with reckless abandon, pressing his com and speaking as calmly as the situation allowed him to.
“I’ve got a humanoid demon on my tail that can turn into smoke at a moment’s notice. Any magic users want him?”
Behind him, the smoke surged like a roaring tide, sweeping over the buildings as it rapidly closed in. A low, menacing chuckle resounded from seemingly every corner of the earth, only growing louder as the smoke grew.
“Triple fuck,” Tim hissed, now fleeing faster. Maybe he should’ve crashed Marvel’s party.
The com came to life as Raven replied, her flat voice as bored as ever.
“On my way,” she drawled. “Don’t breathe in any smoke. That’s like inhaling demon stomach.”
Pulling a face at Raven’s delicate way with words (no wonder Damian liked her), Tim changed course immediately and started heading toward where he saw Raven last. Of course, this is when he quite literally ran into the witch that caused this whole mess, crashing straight into her as she was in the middle of laughing evilly. The two of them tumbled forward in a mess of boots and pointy hats, nearly tipping themselves off of the balcony where the witch had temporarily taken residence.
“Quadruple fuck,” Tim moaned, batting away the pointed hat that was stabbing into his cheek. The witch, a girl whose chubby cheeks and round face belied her youth, screamed angrily and started whaling on Tim with clumsy fists.
“You’re ruining this for me!” she shrieked, tiny feet kicking furiously.
“You’re a toddler,” Tim said back, batting away her punches easily but still managing to get nailed painfully in the shin.
“Age doesn’t diminish her extraordinary power, little bird,” a deep, velvet voice purred. The smoke demon.
Tim inhaled sharply in surprise, immediately regretting it as he tasted acrid, burnt-sugar smoke coat his tongue and throat and his vision went all woozy.
“Quintuple fuck.”
Raven was first to find not-Tim rolling around on a tiny balcony as the witch (or rather, witchling, the kid couldn’t be older than ten) huddled by the door looking on in fear and awe.
Her first clue that all was not right was the raspy moans Tim made with each flail of his body, punctuated by wisps of smoke that exited his mouth with every breath. The second clue was the muttering.
“- and how does he live like this, what the actual fuck is wrong with him, why does his head feel like thissss,” the demon hissed, borrowed arms flopping like a fish.
Raven sighed.
“You didn’t count on him being in terrible physical condition, did you,” she stated, already knowing the answer to her own question.
Nearby, Batman felt a tremble run down his spine as he sensed Tim’s self-neglect finally having consequences of the unforeseen kind for someone else other than him, thank god. He punched a demon in the face victoriously, shaking his fist out with satisfaction.
Back with Raven, not-Tim groaned. “Why are the lights so blinding?” not-Tim asked almost pitifully.
“Sleep deprivation,” Raven answered.
“Why does his head throb so much?”
“Sleep deprivation.”
“And the floating clouds of colour that I know aren’t there?”
“Sleep deprivation.”
“Sleep deprivation?”
“Sleep deprivation.”
Not-Tim wailed, struggling to get to his feet before falling miserably on his behind. “Why do his limbs shake so?! And his mind – oh god, his mind! It won’t shut up! Make it shut up!”
Raven watched not-Tim flop around like Bambi on ice for entirely too long, completely ignorant to the battle that still raged on behind her.
“Are you going to leave or do I have to banish you,” she asked with a hint of amusement, watching as not-Tim resigned himself to rolling across the floor instead of walking.
“I cannot feel his spleen,” the demon said instead, voice quaking in fear. “Why can I not feel his spleen? How can someone be so hungry and thirsty and tired and missing a spleen but still be alive?!”
“Are you going to leave,” Raven repeated, speaking slower and enunciating more clearly, like she was speaking to a particularly dumb bowl of sentient pudding.
“How… how does he live like this?” not-Tim whispered, trembling in fear of something far greater and far more fearful than himself. Clearly this human boy was no mere mortal; he was some sort of god that leapt for the heavens and missed, forever doomed to a punishment of eternal deprivation on earth. There was no other explanation.
Raven sighed and shook her head, otherwise electing to not respond.
The demon keened pitifully, seeping away from Tim’s prone form in a cloud of grey smoke, small and cowed.
“I must leave,” the demon breathed frantically. “We’ve all got to leave! This – this is too much!” The cloud of smoke bobbed erratically, zipping away as fast as it could and yeeting itself back into the portal from whence it came. A silent command rippled across the hoards left behind, and they too turned tail and started the mad dash for the safety of the demon realm.
From his spot on the balcony edge, Tim gave a tired yet elated whoop.
“Take that!” he yelled, pumping a fist in victory. “Turned back an entire demon invasion by myself. Fuck yeah, I’m awesome.”
The witchling looked at Tim as if she had just rocketed through attaining enlightenment, three mental breakdowns, another enlightenment, and was now looking upon her god who just told her to shoot him and dance on his corpse.
“I want to be like you when I grow up,” she sighed longingly.
Raven rolled her eyes and flew away.
BONUS: HAND ME THE KNOCK-OUT STICK
"Tim," Bruce said sternly, a sandwich in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. A thick wool blanket was wrapped around his neck and shoulders like his Batman cape. "You will eat and then you will go to bed."
Tim smiled dopily at Bruce.
"No."
He promptly flung himself out of the nearest window, dropping two stories with cat-like grace and booking it for the Robin's Nest.
Bruce, hindered by the food and blanket, could only stick his head out the window and scream.
"TIM!"