Chapter Text
As Tim wasn’t a morning person, waking up was never easy. Today, he would just make a quick appearance downstairs to let Alfred know he was awake before heading to the cave. Bruce was meeting with Lucius, and with Dick and Damian still at the penthouse, this meant Tim had the cave for himself for once. The cave and the manor and Alfred’s cooking, and he would definitely take advantage of that.
Still in his pyjamas, he trudged down the hallway, almost running into Alfred on the stairs. “Good morning, Master Tim.”
“Morning.” Tim yawned and rubbed his eyes. “Say,” he started, not quite sure whether he was still half-asleep or if Alfred actually carried a shotgun. “Are you armed?”
The butler chuckled softly the same way he had when he’d suggested posing as Tim’s dad at Brentwood. “I would say so.”
“Okay.” He scratched his stomach, thinking on that. So Alfred was running around the manor with a shotgun. Okay, Tim could deal with that. It was too early to deal with further deduction, so he needed to ask. “Why?”
“It seems there has been some noise from one of the unused rooms and I was about to investigate its origins.”
“With a shotgun?”
“With a shotgun.”
Alfred watched him patiently as Tim pieced all this together in his sleep-addled mind. Suddenly, he was wide awake and his body instinctively moved into a defensive stance. A quick glance down the hallway made sure they were alone and no one tried to attack them. “You think there’s someone in the house?”
“I do not know, but I am of a mind to find out.”
Tim gave him short nod, turning on his heels. “I’m in. Let’s see who’s stupid enough to break into our home.”
He took point, listening for any noise along the way. It wasn’t until they had almost cleared the hallway with the master bedroom at its end when something clattered in the room at the far right. Carefully, Tim positioned himself at the door, Alfred at the other side, armed and ready.
Neither of them was prepared for what they found inside Jason’s old room, though. Inside was a boy, lanky, like he’d just had a proper growth-spurt, with nothing but one of the drapes around his hips.
“What the…,” Tim sputtered.
“Pants, man. Pants would be a great start.” The kid glared at him before his gaze fell upon Alfred. “And then you can explain me who you are and what you’re doing here. - Crap, when was the last time you slept? You don’t look healthy, Alfie.” His anger was back on Tim in full force. “Okay, scratch pants,” he said, because the kid that nicked Batman’s tires was more pragmatic than anything. “You are telling me right now what you did to Alfred and then we’ll see how relieved you’ll be when the boss finally stops me from feeding you your teeth.”
Barking out a hysteric laugh, Tim leaned towards the butler, his eyes never leaving the kid. “You know, I might not remember correctly, what with being pretty young and all, but… that’s Jason, right?”
Alfred Pennyworth had been with the Batman since the start. Since before the start to be precise. He had been through many strange adventures and his resilience was legendary, yet the sight of this boy made him choke, and Tim bit his lip, regretting his crude inquiry. Alfred had loved that boy. The boy that died.
And came back – No, that Jason hadn’t come back. That Jason had died. And was now standing between the old furniture, rummaging through what had been left of his things in search of pants.
“You’re kidding, right?” Not caring for the sagging cloth, Jason pushed his hands on his hips, his eyes focused on every move Tim made. “How do you know me?”
“How old are you?”
“Fourteen. Maybe. Now back to the important stuff, pretty boy. If you’re in any way responsible for what happened to Alfred, I’m gonna–”
– “Feed me my teeth, yes, I know. Been there, done that.” Waving the kid off, Tim tried to recall every instance of age regression he knew of. There was that time years back with Klarion, and of course both Kon and Bart had age-related issues, but Jason was neither clone nor speedster.
Beside him, Alfred leaned the shotgun against the doorframe, stepping inside the room without another word. He was in front of the kid in no time at all, hugging him as hard as his old body allowed.
If anything, Jason wasn’t reacting like Tim had expected. He wasn’t shocked or hesitant, he just wrapped his arms around the old man, burying his face in his shoulder with a smile. He kept his eyes on Tim, but didn’t move away when he asked, “Are you okay?”
And Alfred laughed in return, pushing Jason’s shoulders back to look at the boy. “Yes, Master Jason, I am. What about you?”
“Yeah, dunno. A little dizzy. Pants would be nice.” His smile soon turned into a frown. “But seriously, Alfie, you’re looking kinda old. Not to be rude or something, but you look like you’ve aged ten years over night.”
“Not quite a whole decade, I assure you. Now, let us see about some clothes.”
“What about him?” Jason’s frown deepened when he looked over Alfred’s shoulder.
“I live here,” Tim protested. “Sometimes.”
“No you don’t. I don’t know you and you sure as heck ain’t living here. Because I’d know.”
Alfred was too unsettled to handle this situation, Tim decided, pointing his thumb over his shoulder. “Could you go see if the horror brat has some clothes that fit him?”
To his credit, Alfred only hesitated a moment, giving him a nod and Jason a quick pat on the shoulder. “Of course, Master Tim. I’ll be right back.”
He let the butler pass before closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wood, his arms crossed. How did you tell the guy that hated you he had been de-aged? Or rather, how did you tell a maybe-fourteen-year-old he was actually an adult with a gun fetish and so much anger in him he’s constantly taking it out on his loved ones?
“Quit staring,” Jason sneered, a faint blush on his cheeks.
“I – I didn’t. Oh my God.” Tim slapped a hand over his eyes and laughed. That kid had been his hero for years. And now he was just a naked brat. Fun. “Oh, boy. Look, Alfred is indeed older than you remember him.”
The way Jason moved, the drape would fall from his hips pretty soon; he tensed up for a moment, but quickly loosened his muscles again, ready to fight. “I knew it!”
Throwing his hands in the air, Tim groaned. “It wasn’t me, okay? I wouldn’t even know how. – Hey, ever seen Back to the Future?”
Handling confusion tactics was obviously something Bruce had yet to teach this Jason. “Um… yeah. Why?”
“Time travel.” Tim pushed himself off the door, taking a quick step into the room which proved to be a mistake. Spooked, Jason’s foot got caught up as he stumbled back; he fell, effectively landing on his ass with a curse. He didn’t try to get away a second time when Tim crouched down in front of him with a smile that was only half smug.
“Oh, sure, laugh at me and lose that pretty face of yours, I dare you.”
“Time travel,” Tim pushed, opting to just sit down with Jason on the ground. As expected, the kid was having trouble coping. Feeling uncomfortable or insecure, the adult Jason resorted to violence and defiance, directing attention away from him; the younger Jason did much the same, only with more balls than confidence. “You’re smart, Jason. Look around this room - Is this where you went to bed last night? Think for a moment.”
“Dun wanna.” Because he had already pieced it together. He just didn’t like the picture it painted.
Tim raised his arm slowly, making his intentions obvious as he put an arm around the kid’s shoulder. It was a surprise when Jason latched onto him, but it was a pleasant one. When he felt him shake, Tim squeezed the kid close and teased, “You’re pretty trusting.”
“I’m not dumb. Alfred called you ‘Master Tim’, that means either you kinda inherited him along with this place, or you’re somehow family.”
“Not just a friend of his?”
Jason snorted. “I know you rich cats, friends are ‘Misters’.”
“You are smart.”
“Told you.”
The shivering finally stopped and Jason relaxed against him until Alfred opened the door. He jumped up almost immediately. “Thank fudge, clothes.” He didn’t realize the precarious situation until the drapes had already fallen on the floor.
Tim laughed. He couldn’t help it, and he knew he should feel bad about it, but there was Jason Peter Todd, standing buck-naked in front of him, looking back over his shoulder like an angry little tomato. Alfred had to put a hand on his shoulder to stop the kid from going for his throat this time, clothes or not.
To a certain extent, Tim was annoyed that Damian was still younger than Jason. And smaller. Which meant Alfred had actually gone to his room in order to get clothes that fit the now fourteen-year-old. Well, ‘fit’ in the literally loosest of terms.
They had relocated to the kitchen where Alfred made them pancakes that Jason devoured with glee. As he often got sick when eating something more substantial than coffee, breakfast was hit-and-miss with Tim these days, though, and he opted for a much slower pace than the kid. Jason was already on his fifth pancake when he noticed Tim had not yet eaten his first.
“You on a diet or something?”
“No, I’m just–”
– “Preggers.” Jason grinned, syrup smeared on his cheek and another bite already on the way to his mouth.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Tim laughed and Jason seemed so smug not the be the butt of the joke this time.
He shoved the fork in his mouth, pushing the fruit bowl towards Tim. “C’mon, eat some. We want the baby healthy, don’t we?”
“Oh my God, you’re such a brat.”
“Ja, well, I aim to please.” And he just had to have learned that sleazy look back on the streets.
Laughing together felt good, felt right, although both of them knew the situation was anything but. Even with Bruce’s arrival drawing near, Tim couldn’t bring himself to change the conversation to a more serious topic. Not with Jason actually happy and confident and Alfred smiling almost serenely.
“Hey, I need to put on some real clothes.” He stood from his chair, ignoring the kid’s snicker. “Be back in a bit.”
Tim wasn’t dreading this conversation so much as he was dreading not being able to see Bruce’s face. To not be physically there when he got the news. Still, the moment he came home, Bruce would see Jason. The younger one. Just one year before they had lost him. And Tim didn’t want Bruce to run into that situation unprepared.
He stared at his cell where he had left it on the desk this morning. Bruce would want to know the how and why and Tim hated having nothing to tell his partner other than ‘Surprise! Your dead Robin is back’. He couldn’t even provide a solution, not even suggest how they should go about it, yet, but time was running out. Bruce would come home, and he needed to know before Jason jumped him.
Bruce answered the phone, telling Lucius this would just take a moment and Tim could hear him close a door. “All right, what is it?”
“Are you sitting? Because I think you should sit down for this.”
“Bad news?” And that was Batman, right there, growling in his ear.
Tim barked out a laugh. Batman might really not be the right reaction to this. “Yes and no. Kinda? Just tell me you’re sitting down, because I can’t think of a good excuse to tell your employees why their boss sits on the floor in the middle of the day. - Actually I can, but I don’t think it’s ethical to pay someone to play pregnant for you,” he added with a wary smile.
The reply he got was an irritated noise, but Tim knew him well enough to know he complied. If only to get him to spill.
“Jason’s home.”
“Is he injured?”
“Not really. He’s in the kitchen with Alfred and I think you can’t actually hurt yourself much by inhaling pancakes. Also, he’s fourteen.”
Had anyone else held onto the phone, it would have clattered to the office floor. But this was Batman. So all he did was breathe.
Tim recognized the exercise, Bruce’s attempt to calm down. Funny how he didn’t think to question this information. Then again, he rarely questioned information coming from Tim.
“He’s okay,” he assured Bruce. “Felt a bit dizzy earlier and confused of course, but he’s fine now. Happy with Alfred. He recognizes Alfred and he knows where he is. I also breached the topic of time travel.”
“You didn’t.” There was a certain quality in the tone of his voice, a warning of sorts; but Tim was over being intimidated by Batman for years now.
“I did. He’s holding up great. Better than expected.”
“He’s strong.”
Tim smiled. That kid downstairs? That was Robin, his hero. “He’s the best.”
Bruce cleared his throat, fumbling with something that sounded suspiciously like his suitcase and keys. “Does he know what happened?”
Tim still shook his head although he couldn’t be seen over the phone. “I don’t think so. Bruce, I haven’t had the heart to ask him, yet. I want to… I want to wait until he’s met you. He might need you.”
“All right,” he exhaled audibly. “I’ll be home soon.”
After they hung up, Tim changed quickly, throwing on some slacks and one of Dick’s Gotham U sweaters before daring to get back downstairs.
Jason was helping Alfred with the dishes, animatedly chatting away. Watching them, Tim leaned in the doorway, thinking about the whole thing again. It wasn’t so much disturbing or annoying to have Jason here as it was unexpected. But if it was time travel…
Tim turned away from the kitchen abruptly, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialling Babs’ number. “Hey, O, I need you to check on Jason right now.”
“Hello to you too, birdboy. What has he gotten himself into this time?”
Tim bit his lip. Babs would soon know anyway, but if this was time travel and there still was an adult Jason around, that guy didn’t need to know just yet.
“Found him,” Babs said, keystrokes audible in the background. “According to his signal, he’s in front of the safe house on the corner of Kane street. That’s curious.”
“What is?”
“According to his signal, he hasn’t moved in over ten hours.”
Tim glanced to the entrance where he already heard the ignition of a Porsche die. “Have BG check on him, I’ll call you back.”
“Tim, what’s–”
He hung up on her, opening the door before Bruce put his key in the lock. “Do I want to know how many investors Brucie has just stood up?”
“Where is he?”
“Still with Alfred.” Bruce pushed past him, eager to see his son, but Tim held him back. Tightening his grip on Bruce’s forearm, he kept him in the hall while he closed the door quietly. “Calm down, you’ll just spook him.”
Bruce shot him an angry glare, but stopped trying to rush. “I need to see Jason. Right now.”
With a sigh, Tim crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I asked Oracle to check on the adult Jason - if there is one. Time travel dictates that there should be one, but if there isn’t, we have to look into more mystical explanations, because I don’t think hormonal imbalance accounts for the loss of almost ten years.”
When Bruce just kept staring, Tim sighed. “All right, we’ll go see him, but afterwards, I want you to contact Booster Gold and Zatanna, tell them to be on standby, just in case.”
This time, he got a reaction, but it wasn’t much; just a change in his partner’s gaze, the way he was looking at Tim. If anything, Bruce’s eyes showed betrayal. “You want him gone?”
“We’re not talking about this now.” Tim bit back his anger at that. They didn’t know anything, yet, so they had to prepare for everything. That’s what Bruce had taught him, for fuck’s sake.
“You–” the man caught himself. “I want to see my son.” He didn’t exactly storm the kitchen when Tim gave him his okay, but it was a close thing.
“Bossman.” Jason jumped upon seeing Bruce. He let his father hug him, almost crush him to his chest, returning the gesture and laughing a little startled.
“Woah, slow down there, big guy. I… What’s wrong?” The kid sounded more insecure than he had the whole morning and Tim didn’t like it. He wanted to protect him, wanted him to feel safe. That was his dad, the man who had been almost driven insane by his death.
Catching Jason’s gaze over Bruce’s shoulder, he pushed all that down. Jason was happy, startled but more amused than upset.
“Nothing,” Bruce said. “Everything’s all right, Jay. Everything is fine.”
If Tim hadn’t actively worked for exactly this smile ever since the start of his career, he might have been a little jealous as Bruce only had eyes for his son. Thus, he didn’t feel bad leaving the kitchen to make another phone call. “What do you have for me, O?”
“Jason’s gear, that’s what I have for you.” Barbara sounded amused, already drawing her own conclusions. “Say, what reason is there for a trained vigilante to leave his gear outside his safe house. Alongside his clothes. And we’re talking every piece you’d normally wear on your body. Did you know Jason has Wonder Woman boxers?”
Tim snorted. “That’s common knowledge. Anything on traffic cams or some other way to know how those clothes landed there?”
“How about we answer my questions first, kiddo.”
“He didn’t implode, if that’s what you’re asking.” Barbara laughed, but Tim knew her long enough to know her patience was running a little thin. “I don’t have the details, that’s what I need your help for, but for the situation at hand… Would you believe me if I told you he’s fourteen right now?”
“He’s not.”
“Sure is.”
His friend fell silent, thinking it over. “And you want my help in turning him back. From sweet summer child to the Red Hood.”
“First, I want to know what happened to him, then I’ll decide how to proceed.”
She contemplated his words, a soft hum escaping her. “You decide, huh. - I want to see him.”
Tim cringed. “Babs, no.”
“Tim.”
“I don’t - Barb, we don’t even know how long he’ll stay that way or if he’ll remember anything that happens now when he’s back to normal. I’m not - I’m not comfortable with showing him off to the extended family like some pet.” He chuckled humourlessly. “He’s going to kill me when he’s older again.”
Barbara made him wait a little. “I’m getting footage and anything one could consider blackmail.”
“I can’t say ‘no’, can I?”
“You could try.”
Sighing, Tim pushed a hand in the pocket of his pants. “All right. But only because he’d never hurt you.”