Chapter Text
Chapter 1 (Sunday night, Monday morning)
It was a dark and stormy night. Tim laughed to himself as the traditional opening to most ghost stories about things that go bump in the night entered his thoughts. It certainly was dark and it was because of the storm threatening to break overhead.
But at the moment, he was the only thing going bump in the night.
And it would be quite the bump if he didn’t make some effort to stop the free fall he was currently in.
Well, not quite a free fall as he spread his arms and legs to open the wing suit he was wearing. This was a controlled dive after all. He had a reason to wear this suit rather than his normal one. He needed to land in a very specific place in the most inconspicuous way possible.
Hence the wing suit.
His target was coming up. Tim adjusted his angle and raised his knees, still keeping the wing suit wide open to slow down his descent as much as possible. It wasn’t easy, gliding onto the roof of one of the tallest skyscrapers in Gotham, but this was his task tonight.
He landed with a hard thud, his reinforced kneepads and gauntleted arms taking the brunt of the force, but Tim rolled with it, one, two, three, before finally coming to a full stop on the fourth. He huffed a quiet laugh into the night and grinned. What a rush!
Tim quickly stripped out of the suit, taking a moment to look for any tears in the flaps. He was going to need it again to get out of here. Everything looked good, so he stashed it up against the low wall he was going to make his exit from shortly.
If all goes to plan that is. Tim smirked as he made his way quietly to the rooftop access door. He inspected the keypad lock and pulled a slim USB cord from his gauntlet. His wrist computer made fast work of the lock and Tim slipped inside just before the sky let loose with the rain that had been looming all evening.
Perfect timing.
The tower was 78 stories high and Tim’s interest tonight lay on the 70th floor. He made his way down the staircase quickly, having already sent a worm into the security system to loop the cameras and knockout the motion sensors.
You’d think that one of the largest companies in the world would have better security. Tim slowly opened the door to the stairwell a crack and rolled one of his remote cameras out across the floor.
The coast was clear.
He opened the door just enough to squeeze out and shut it. The doorway was tucked into an alcove just beside the bank of elevators. This was the executive level so the opportunities for cover were slim. The remote camera was left were it was; any motion would send an alert to his computer.
Tim quickly made his way across the open foyer and down the hallway to the CEO’s office. He dropped another camera and took note of where it landed. As much as he’d like to leave a permanent bug on this floor, he knew it was swept regularly so his toys would be found.
And that just wouldn’t do.
The hallway opened up to a wide waiting room with two sets of doors against the far wall. The executive assistant’s desk was on the right and the secretary’s desk on the left. Both desks sported wide double monitors and as Tim walked abreast, he saw the blinking lights of the computer towers.
He ducked to the right and pulled out the USB cable again from his gauntlet. His screen lit up and Tim started searching files, eyes narrowing as he found what he was looking for.
Why bother with the CEO’s locked office and encrypted computer when all the information I'm looking for is on the EA’s more accessible tower?
Files downloaded, Tim made his way back down the hallway, picking up the first remote, then the second as he entered the stairwell again. He hesitated a moment, wondering yet again if it would be worth the effort to plug into the closed server network and be able to access it remotely. It would only be temporary as the servers were also routinely checked for bugs.
No. If I do, then the next time I really need to come here, it’ll be that much harder to get in.
Decision made, Tim ghosted back up the stairs.
At the top, he could hear the sound of the rain pounding outside. It hadn’t been more than 30 minutes tops from the time he landed until now, but the rain was still coming down just as hard as when it had first started, but the wind was still strong. This made his exit strategy a bit dicey as he needed to be able to use the wing suit and glide to one of the neighboring towers.
Tim sighed, then pushed open the door and closed it quickly. The rain pelted him with sharp little stings he barely felt through his suit. Going to the keypad, he turned the cameras and motion sensors back on in the stairwell.
Bracing himself for a frontal onslaught from the rain, Tim ran to the side of the building and climbed back into his wing suit. He looked out across the wide expanse to the tower across the street. It was only 51 stories compared to the tower he was currently on and wasn’t as new. There were plenty of places a well-aimed grapple hook could catch.
Here goes nothing. Tim took a few steps away from the edge, then made a running leap forward.
He dove for a moment, angling his body towards the next building. Opening his arms and legs, the wind caught him and pushed him further forward, building upon the momentum from his jump and propelling him further across the void.
Damn rain. Tim wasn’t going to reach the building with just the suit, the rain was coming down too hard, so he pulled out his grapple and let himself fall past the edge of the roof. Twisting so that he faced up, he shot out the line. It caught easily and the decel line took the brunt of the tension as it snapped taught.
Up we go! He hauled himself over the edge.
Turning around, he took a moment to look back at the building he’d just left, reeling in the decel line on his grapple gun with an efficiency from frequent use. The rain made it a bit hazy, but the company name was still brightly lit.
Wayne Enterprises.
Tim smirked and gave a jaunty salute to the tower.
Despite the rain, it had been a good night for Stray.
*****
From the roof of a neighboring skyscraper, a figure in a red helmet lowered a pair of binoculars.
“Very impressive, pussy cat,” he muttered. “You’re all grown up now. Time to see if you can play with the big kids.”
The Red Hood turned away and made his own exit from the rooftop.
Looks like I get to go to school in the morning.
*****
Tim Drake yawned widely as he made his way down the steps of the auditorium style lecture hall. Morning classes were always the worst. Thank god I’m the TA though. It’d be even worse if I had to sit through this and try to take notes.
At 22 years of age, Tim was a graduate student at Gotham University and already a year into his program, having graduated with his undergrad degree in computer sciences earlier than the rest of his class. His Master’s was going to be in cyber security.
Not that there was a lot the program could teach him that he didn’t already know.
Today’s lecture involved a powerpoint, so Tim pulled up the overhead and got the presentation up on the screen. He took a clicker from his bag and set it on the podium.
This was an introductory class and Tim hated it. He had to sit through this once as an undergrad and now he had to do so again as a grad student. The things I do to keep a cover. Tim’s nightlife as Stray needed to be kept separate from his day life as a working grad student struggling to make ends meet. He more than made enough as Stray to cover the full costs of his Master’s, but covers were there for a reason.
Bad enough he had degrees in computer science.
As the lecture started, Tim found himself thinking back to how it all started.
*****
Stray was the protégé of Catwoman who’d came into his own not as a jewel thief, but as an information dealer. Tim’s trade was secrets. He worked mainly in Gotham, but he had the pulse of a few other major cities around the world. Gotham was home. And more fun.
Because Gotham was home to Batman and Oracle. Bruce Wayne and Barbara Gordon.
It was during his first year of following Robin and Batman that Tim encountered Catwoman. He’d been hanging rather precariously off the side of a billboard trying to get the right angle. He got it, but in doing so, he slipped.
A strong hand grasped his wrist and pulled him up.
“Well, well, what do we have here? A little kitten chasing a bird and a bat?” purred a silky smooth voice.
Tim opened his eyes to see Catwoman blinking back at him, a small smile on her face. “Umm…it’s not what you think it is?”
“And what do I think it is, kitten?” she asked as she hauled him up and over the edge of the billboard, sitting him down and taking a seat next to him. Her purple bodysuit was almost black in the night. Tim could see her eyes gleaming at him.
He scrunched his young face in thought, then said brightly, “I’m just testing out the low light exposure on my camera.” He smiled.
Catwoman laughed. “Nice try, kitten. Good job with sticking to a partial truth, but you forgot situational awareness.” Her gazed turned hard. “And the fact you’re out here in the dead of night with a rather expensive camera when you can’t be more then 8.”
Tim quickly went on the defensive. “I’m 10! And I’ve been doing this for almost six months now.”
Catwoman looked impressed. “Six months and he hasn’t caught you yet?” No need to say who he was.
“Nope.” Tim looked down at his dangling feet. They were at least six stories up, perhaps seven when counting the height from the billboard. It didn’t faze him, not like it used to when he first started following Batman and Robin.
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got some talent of your own.” Catwoman’s voice turned thoughtful. “I’ve been watching you almost all night. You’re quick, but you’re also very smart in choosing places where you can see without being seen.”
Tim shrugged. “I don’t want to be caught.”
“Sometimes being caught is half the fun.”
Tim turned to glare at Catwoman. “I’ve seen you with…with Batman,” he whispered, almost as if by saying Batman’s name he’d instantly appear. “You let yourself get caught just to tease him.”
Catwoman’s eyes widened. “How long do you usually watch?”
Tim blushed. “I stop when you two start kissing. Adults are gross sometimes.”
She grinned. “You may not mind so much when you get older,” she purred.
Flustered, Tim looked at Catwoman directly. “Are you going to tell on me? To him?”
She was silent for a moment. “No, I’m not going to tell him. But, I’m also not going to let you run around by yourself anymore without some training. You’ve got the makings of something special and I’d hate to see that go splat on the pavement.”
“I don’t want to be a thief though,” said Tim in a small voice.
“Oh, kitten. I’m not going to teach you how to be a thief. I’m going to teach you how to be a cat that always lands on its feet.”
Tim smiled at the memory of his first meeting with Selina. She was right, she really did teach him how to land on his feet. He’d been right though too. She did teach him how to be a good thief. Picking locks, slight of hand, misdirection. It was when she started showing him how to break into security systems they discovered his particular talent for technology.
Stray (he hated being called kitten by anyone other than Selina) discovered he had a knack for computers. And, according to Selina at least, it went all downhill from there. Tim spent almost all of his free time learning different computer programs, coding, and even started writing his own programs. It was fascinating work, especially once he got the confidence to start hacking into other computers and networks.
What started as a hobby was quickly turning into something more.
Selina encouraged Tim’s new skillset, at first thinking he would use it to help make her night job easier. But Tim was adamant he would not use his computer skills for petty crimes. At his core, Tim still thought of himself as a good person who was going to use these skills for a noble cause.
Of course, Selina took it was a challenge to see what Tim considered worthy causes. He flat out refused to hack into bank accounts of known crime bosses to move funds around so that they ultimately landed in Selina’s offshore accounts, but he would break into said accounts and make large anonymous donations to various charities.
He’d help take down the security system at a museum where stolen art was being displayed. They’d enjoy the pieces for a few weeks, then send it back to the original owners.
It was during one of these heists Tim first met the second Robin, Jason Todd.
Catwoman and Stray were at the Gotham City Metropolitan Art Museum late one night close to the end of an art exhibit featuring a series of sketches from Michelangelo, Raphael, and other Renaissance artists. Tim had discovered that three of the sketches had been stolen back in World War II from a Jewish family interred at one of the concentration camps in Germany. He felt the descendants deserved their family’s art back.
Selina agreed after reading the information Tim unearthed.
This night, Stray perched on the roof of the museum, just inside the rooftop access door and connected into the museum’s security system through an alarm panel. Catwoman was two floors down, her job to collect the sketches and Stray’s to turn off the alarms on the cases, as well as keep an eye on the security feeds for any guards.
Or a Bat and a new bird.
Which made it all the more embarrassing when Stray heard from over his shoulder, “Whatcha doin’, pussy cat?”
The boy nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise, whirling around to see Robin crouched a few feet away. He wore the same uniform as the first Robin, red tunic, scaly green shorts, a yellow cape and green boots. But even at 14, the new Robin wore it well, confidant and cocky, bright like Robin should always be.
Stray quickly recovered, a trait Catwoman worked hard to cultivate in the boy. He smiled widely. “Nothing much. Recovering some stolen property.”
“Really?” Robin said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t believe Stray at all. “There’s other ways to do that, ya know.”
“I know, but the proper authorities have had their heads up their butts for the last 60 years or so. Time to speed up the process.”
“60 years? You’re kiddin’”. You could take a kid off the street, but you can’t take the street out of the kid. Robin still sounded like the street rat he was born as, despite being Batman’s protégé for the last six months. Stray had followed the news avidly when Bruce Wayne adopted a new son, Jason Todd. He knew it was just a matter of time before a new Robin would appear.
“Nope,” replied Stray, making a point to pop the “p”.
Robin scooted a step closer, watching Stray closely. “You’re the kid that’s been hangin’ around Catwoman for the last year or so.”
Stray tilted his head to the side, playing coy. “What makes you think that?”
“The cat ears on your hood for starters. B has a file on you. He knows who Catwoman is, but can’t figure you out.” Robin grinned, showing a lot of teeth. “I think it’s time someone did.”
And with that, Robin lunged towards him. Stray quickly yanked his laptop from the USB connection, hitting the panic button to alert Catwoman as he did so. He tucked and rolled, narrowly avoiding Robin’s outstretched arms.
He gained his feet quickly, sliding his laptop into a specially designed pouch on his back. He started running across the rooftop, booking it for all he was worth. Robin was close behind him.
As Stray neared the edge of the building, he caught a glimpse of the narrow high wire he and Catwoman strung there earlier. He’d practiced this a million times now, but this was the first time he’d ever had to run across with someone hot on his heels.
No time like the present. Stray jumped up onto the ledge and ran out across the expanse. Behind him, he heard Robin shout “Holy shit, you’re fuckin’ insane!”
As he reached the other side, Stray turned and looked back at Robin. He was standing on the edge of the museum roof, hands clenched in frustration. Apparently he’d not quite gotten to this part of his training yet. Stray grinned cheekily and flipped Robin a jaunty salute before running off.
Later that night, he and Selina celebrated a successful heist with a tub of vanilla ice cream and admired the sketches she’d been able to recover before Batman had swooped in.
“You did good tonight, kitten. Way to keep your head in the game,” she’d praised Tim, cuddling with him on the sofa of her apartment. He loved cuddle-time. It was so rare he’d get any form of physical affection from his parents when they were home.
“Thanks, Selina.”
Stray and Robin met often after that night. Robin seemed to take it as a personal challenge to catch the younger boy who always managed to just elude his grasp. It quickly turned into a game, especially once Robin realized Stray often ran without Catwoman. They were friends of a sort and often found themselves helping each other get out of (and into) trouble.
One night, about a year and a half after they’d first met, Stray found Robin sitting alone on a rooftop, legs dangling over the edge of the building. The older boy looked depressed about something.
Stray sat down next to him, just out of arms reach, like always. Though that had to be a bit further away now, as Robin recently hit a growth spurt. “What’s up?” he asked softly.
Robin didn’t say anything for a minute, then sighed. “B and I got into a fight. He benched me.”
“Garzonas?” Stray asked. He saw the news from the night before.
“Yeah. He doesn’t believe me. He-he really thinks I pushed that asshole off his balcony.” Robin shook, clenching his fists in his green gloves. “I wanted to. Christ, I wanted to after what he did. But he fell on his own when I jumped out at him.”
Stray waited a moment, then said quietly, “You didn’t try to save him.”
A long pause. “No.”
“I’ve always known that not everyone can be saved. Good people die just as often as bad people.” Stray thought for a moment about the Flying Graysons. The bright lights and pageantry of the circus, of that night, forever seared into his memory.
“I-I know,” choked Robin. “But he doesn’t see it that way! It’s all black or white for him. He doesn’t know what it’s really like, doing whatever you can just to survive.”
Robin had told Stray long ago about his life in Crime Alley, growing up with an often-absent father and a sick mom. Begging and stealing just to get by. He even confided that he’d started prostituting himself not long before Batman found him. Stray was shocked, that Robin, his hero, could have done that.
But Stray ran these streets too and knew the dark and grim reality that faced Gotham’s poorer residents. Gotham was not a nice city and he long ago recognized he was incredibly lucky to have a home to go to each night, even if it was devoid of warmth and love.
Stray let himself scoot closer, sitting close enough his hand settled on the ledge right next to Robin’s. The older boy hesitated a moment, then grabbed it, holding tightly. He laughed darkly. “You never let me catch you, pussy cat.”
“It seemed like the right thing to do tonight,” Stray said lightly, tightly holding Robin’s hand as well. He ignored the nickname. It always irked him, but Robin never called him anything else.
“I’m…I’m going to go away for a bit. I found a box with some of my mom’s things in it. It…it has my birth certificate. There’s another woman’s name on it.”
Stray gasped. “What? Who?”
“It’s a bit water-damaged. The only part of the name I could make out is “Sandra”. There’s an address book too. It belonged to my dad. I found three names in it that start with S.”
“You’re going to go looking for them.” It wasn’t a question.
Robin nodded.
“Do you want my help? I’m good with computers and hacking records.”
“I know, but…I want to do this on my own. I need to do this on my own.”
Stray nodded. “I get it. If you change your mind…” He started digging through his utility belt (a much slimmer design than those the Bats wore) and grabbed a piece of paper and a pen. He wrote a phone number and a name and handed it to Robin.
He looked at it a moment, surprise showing on his face, then at Stray. “Tim?” he asked.
“If you call me Timmy, Jason, I swear I'll throw you off the roof."
The look of surprise on Robin’s face grew, turning into shock. “You know?”
Stray nodded. “I’ve known since I was 9 years old. I haven’t told anyone what I know, not even Selina. I’m never going to tell.”
Robin huffed a laugh. “That’s just fan-fucking-tastic. Stray knows who Batman and Robin are and we never had a clue.”
“You do now,” said Stray quietly.
Robin looked at the piece of paper, then at Stray. “Yeah, I do. Tim Drake.”
“Jason Todd.”
The moment passed as both boys started laughing.
A few days later, Jason left Gotham to search for his mother. He’d accepted Tim’s help in getting his airline tickets ready for him and booking a hotel in Israel.
A month after that, Jason was dead.
*****
Tim shook himself out of his memories just in time to catch the end of the lecture. He hated the morbid turn his thoughts turned to, but it was hard to not think about Robin, Jason, when remembering his early years as Stray. He idolized Robin for so long, dreaming he could be friends with the boy. First Dick, then Jason.
And thanks to a chance encounter with Catwoman, he’d gotten the opportunity.
He collected the homework from the students as they passed it along to the front rows and remembered to snag the clicker from the professor before she wandered off with it. He already had the grading key for the homework assignment, so, with an open morning ahead of him, Tim set out for a nice quiet spot just outside the library he liked to go to when he had a few hours between classes. His next one wasn’t until after lunch.
The oak tree was big and sprawling, with thick branches just perfect for sitting in. He liked to think this was his way of getting in tune with nature.
Wanting to get the tedium out of the way, he started grading.
An hour quickly passed. Tim was almost done when he came across a piece of paper that didn’t resemble the homework assignment. It was on a piece of printer paper and folded in half, like a lot of people did, so Tim didn’t think twice about opening it until he saw it was a note addressed to him.
Drake,
Word is you’re the fat cat on campus to go to when someone needs to learn something no one else is supposed to know. You help me, I’ll help you.
RH
Beneath the signature was a phone number.
Tim’s blood ran cold, his skin prickling as goose bumps rose across his arms. The note was ambiguous enough to the casual observer, but the fat cat reference made it pretty obvious who it was really for. Stray.
Someone knew he was Stray. Knew his real name. Knew where he went to college. Knew his schedule enough to slip a note directly to him without him even catching on.
Shit.
Tim shoved the papers, including the note, into his messenger bag and climbed out of the tree. As he started walking, he felt the tell tale prickle up the back of his neck he got when he was being watched. But when he paused to casually look around, there was no one there.
*****
He missed the figure standing in a fourth story window in the library. Jason Todd stood there a moment longer, watching Tim until he turned a corner.
“You won’t run very far, pussy cat.” He turned and walked away.