Archive of Our Own

Opening his eyes is easy; Dick knows he's in the cave even before his eye's focus. The hum of the machines is too familiar; the infirmary gurney is too familiar; his body remembers even though he can't see. Blinking, he looks around to find his siblings in various stages of consciousness. 

Cassandra is sprawled on the gurney to the right, one leg dangling from the gurney and an arm trying to block the light from the infirmary. Damian is sitting, patting his own face to fully wake up. Jason is drinking a glass of water from the infirmary's filter. Tim is near him, wearing slippers and with his eyes wide open. 

Everyone is wearing compression suits under their uniforms, a quintet of bats dressed in black. 

"Ah, good, everyone's up." Alfred appears in the doorway. "Breakfast is in half an hour upstairs. I brought changes of clothes for everyone. Take a good shower and come up. It's been two nights of rest; it's time to get moving." 

Dick groans, he remembers the decontamination bath after returning and falling asleep on the stretcher as soon as Alfred released him. 

One week—that's how long they were all trapped inside a labyrinth in Gotham's sewers, a collaboration of villains orchestrated by the Riddler. They ended up separated at opposite ends of the labyrinth, and Bruce was in the middle in a kind of cage-like enclosure. Dick doesn't remember how he crossed that hell, but he remembers reaching the middle and them getting out. 

According to Alfred, they had been sleeping for two days, which makes sense; it was hell, but now it was time to shower, eat, and return to normal life. 

Tim is humming as they wash in the showers—nothing loud, just the hum of someone in a good mood. Dick was too; he felt well-rested, and the bruises didn't even hurt. 

He finds Bruce in front of the computer, also looking rested. He's in a bathrobe and without a hood; there's no coffee cup in sight. It seems he just sat down reading the latest news. Dick stops beside him, reading the headline about the villains trapped in a huge mess that lasted weeks. 

“Aside from the physical exhaustion and psychological torture, it was a brilliant plan.” 

“It’s funny that they can work together for something bad and never for something good,” Bruce grumbled. “Heaven, forbid they join forces for Ivy’s environmental cause in a civilized way.” 

“Oh yeah, environmental activism would be a great civilian job for them.” Tim appeared out of nowhere beside them, smiling. He leaned towards Bruce and grimaced at the lack of coffee on the table. “Did Alfred convert you to the tea cult?” 

“You hate caffeine.” 

“I could use some to wake up properly; my head is still heavy from all the Herculean ordeals and such.” Tim replied to Bruce and leaned on the console. “Can I make a call? I need to alert the Titans that I’m awake.” 

“Alfred sent an alert to both Titans teams that you two returned safely, spreading the word until it reached the Outlaws too…” 

“I need to let Cassie know I’m awake.” Tim insisted. "I don’t have my phone with me. I know you’re not very sociable, but I’m like a plant; I need to maintain my connections, or I’ll wither and die.” 

Bruce frowned at the strange comparison but pointed to the console for Tim, who quickly accessed the communications. Dick realized it had been so long since they'd had these moments that used to be so common—the three of them in the cave, Tim and Dick disturbing Bruce's life just for fun. It had been years since it was just the three of them, but Dick sometimes glanced out of the corner of his eye and saw the Robin that Tim had been before and felt a warm feeling in his stomach. 

The boy had come so far. 

Wonder Girl appeared on the big screen, out of uniform, wearing a huge pink hoodie with a rainbow and a unicorn print, ALPHA MALE written in large pink and black letters. Her blonde hair was tied in a high ponytail, cat-ear headphones were around her neck, and a large cup of coffee with whipped cream sat on the table. She wore eye patches. In the background, the Tower was silent. 

Tim smiled at her; Cassie huffed. 

"Ah, you're alive." 

"Don't look so disappointed, I suffered enough to stay this way." Tim tilted his head to the side, an old tic Dick hadn't seen in years, leaning against Bruce's chair. "I'll do the report later, I just wanted to let you know I woke up. It was a really bad week, I wanted to see if everything was alright.” 

Tim would never admit something like that; he rarely showed anything wrong these days, let alone admitted wanting a sign of reassurance. 

Two seconds ago, Dick realizes, two seconds that Cassie stares at Tim without reacting before blinking and returning to normal, two seconds that wouldn't seem like anything, it must have been a transmission delay, after all, but those two seconds are enough for Dick to find what followed strange. 

“Everything is fine. Listen, I’m on duty until late afternoon, can we have dinner together?” she asks Tim. “Are you okay until late afternoon?” 

“I was going to stay at the mansion.” Tim shrugs. “We can have dinner here before heading to the Nest. After a week, I think my leftovers have gone bad, and I don’t want to cook unless Kon comes with you?” 

“Oh no, he’s off planet.” Cassie informed them, typing something into the Tower’s console and grimacing. “He and Empress took Imp for a ride, he got into a nasty fight with Flash again, and we thought it best to put him in space before the Speed Force was affected by the dispute. It was a shit show.” 

Dick shuddered. Wally and Bart fought frequently. There was a reason the Justice League and Dick's Titans avoided the San Francisco team like the plague. Wally and Bart hated each other, the San Francisco team detested Wally, Dick also thought they hated him, but he suspected it was more of a problem with all the heroes of Gotham than anything personal. 

He once swore he saw Rose Wilson shooting at a target with Batman's picture on it. 

"That's the third fight in less than a month, this is getting dangerous." 

"Don't tell me, Sherlock, but you know the rule: don't interfere with family matters." 

"I can't blow up Luthor Corp, I can't spread rumors about Arrowette's mother online, I can't get revenge on the Flash!" Tim complained, shaking his head. He pinched the bridge of his nose and struck a pose. "You're not giving me any options, Elizabeth." 

Cassandra didn't seem impressed; she didn't hesitate. 

“And whose fault is it that this rule exists?” 

Tim hissed like a cat, the blonde smiled, Dick shifted, and Bruce seemed to stir as well. 

“See you at dinner, J. Check the server to see what you missed and don’t do anything stupid.” 

Tim nodded to her and hung up. 

“J?” 

“Jackson, she always calls me that when I use my middle name.” Tim shrugged. “I need my phone.” 

“Where you left it before the patrol.” Bruce replied, and Tim left at lightning speed. “Kids and their technology.” 

“Says the old man with the giant computer.” Dick gave him a disdainful look, Bruce rolled his eyes. “He seems to be in a good mood.” 

“A rarity for any of you these days, especially for him.” Bruce chuckled slightly. “Maybe he just needed to catch up on sleep.” 

Dick agreed. Tim had the awful habit of falling asleep in frankly ridiculous places when he was a teenager. He slept the necessary hours but always seemed sleepy. He once explained that it was due to the time he spent accompanying his parents to work when he was too young for boarding school; he slept in improbable places. It was one of the reasons the Drakes agreed to put him in boarding school—the constant time zone changes weren't good for a child, even more so for one who always had a huge jet lag. 

He always felt better after a nap when he was fourteen; it didn't seem to be any different now at nineteen. 

Jason came from the infirmary with a furrowed brow, already dressed in extra clothes they always left for him in the cave, since he rarely left on his patrols: a set of plain gray sweatpants and jacket and a pair of white athletic shoes. 

“What happened to Timmy? He looks like he saw the green bird.” 

“He had two days of sleep, don’t worry, he was like that before too.” 

Jason doesn’t seem convinced, but drops the subject, mainly because Tim is coming from the locker room with his face glued to the phone. Cassandra walks beside him along with Damian, all in their civilian clothes. 

“Let’s go upstairs to get something to eat, it’s still the middle of the morning.” Bruce gets up and cracks his knuckles, he looks at Jason, “Are you coming for breakfast?” 

Jason doesn't look at him, too focused on the fact that Tim is holding the back of his sweatshirt with one hand while scrolling on the phone with the other. Jason seems a little disturbed by the closeness, but gives Bruce a nod of agreement, and they start moving. 

Cassandra is half-leaning on Damian, still groggy from sleep. The boy guides her arm in arm without complaining. Apparently, Damian's friendship with Stephanie has brought them quite close, and Dick was so relieved for both that he could pray if he were religious. 

Jason walks, Tim holding him by the back of his sweatshirt, using him as a guide. He walks trusting that Jason will lead him through the cave to the right places, even on the way up the stairs he's clinging to Jason. 

Dick almost smiled, but since everyone was in pairs, he was left to walk silently, keeping company with his father, who was dragging his feet, clearly exhausted. 

Bruce was getting old, something they all knew and ignored; he was aging just like the rest of them. Soon the Batman mantle would be vacant again. Dick didn't want that weight back, but he didn't think he'd have the courage to let one of his siblings carry it. 

He'd been there, he'd done that; it was physically painful to think of Damian wearing that cowl. 

Part of him knew that Bruce's Batman should die with him. Gotham had enough bats; the original would retire, and the rest of the pack would carry the work using their own wings. 

Part of him thought Cassandra had the best chance of carrying the legacy. 

Part of him was sure that Tim and Jason couldn't. 

They go upstairs to the dining room where breakfast is served. They help themselves without needing an invitation, hunger finally taking hold of their minds. Cassandra lets out a sound of pure emotion as she chews her garlic bread. Damian seems so relieved to drink his orange juice that it makes Dick chuckle softly. 

Tim is in front of him, helping himself to juice and slices of toast with jam, his cell phone still in hand and a concentrated expression on his reading. 

“Master Timothy…” 

“One moment, Alfred, this is important.” Tim typed something and finally put down his phone. He reached for the toast and swallowed it in two bites. “Is this Kent's jam?” 

“Yes, Martha was kind enough to send it.” Alfred replied before frowning. “If I may, Master Timothy, is the taste so distinct that it’s recognizable?” 

“I helped assemble the jars; I had the smell of the berries in my nose for two days.” Tim shrugged. “I think I could recognize any farm product by now. Before we went into the maze, I spent the whole weekend renovating the henhouse; I came out all pecked, the chickens hate me.” 

“The farm chickens are peaceful.” Damian frowned. “You must have done something.” 

“Oh no, it was Mary Ann. She overheard me telling Ma that it was time to retire her from egg production, so she turned all the chickens against me.” Tim shook his head. “That chicken hates me, luckily Ma lets me stay in the stables more often, they like me.” 

“I didn’t know you were so involved on the farm.” 

“It’s a team effort, we’ve been doing this since we were younger, we used to visit to help once a month, now Ma calls asking for favors.” Tim shrugged at Bruce. “Bart is a great agricultural engineer, we redid the entire farm’s irrigation system last summer, we also installed the solar panels, the plan is to make everything as sustainable as possible.” 

“Jon said the panels power the emergency solar pods.” 

“Yes, we use a bit of alien technology on the whole farm in a way…” Tim explained, then grimaced, turning to Bruce. “Ask Clark for the blueprints, I think you could modernize a lot of things in the mansion, I know the Kryptonian panels reduced the Nest’s energy consumption to practically zero.” 

“I don’t like the idea of alien technology…” 

“That sounded a little racist.” 

Jason choked on his coffee, Dick pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh, Cassandra chuckled softly, and Damian blinked in confusion. Tim didn't seem bothered by the disapproving look he received from Bruce; he just continued eating as if nothing was wrong. 

Man, Dick loved this kid. Few people disarmed Bruce like Tim did. He missed that—seeing the kid annoy Bruce and Bruce to be left speechless. It is rare these days. 

Tim's phone rings. He answers, resting the device on his juice glass. A video call begins. The sound of someone walking is heard, followed by curses and an indignant shout. 

“My God, I hate this family,” a female voice complains on the phone. Tim grins broadly. The girl grumbles, “Put those teeth away. You can't laugh at me when you hate camping as much as I do.” 

“Why are you covered in green paint?” 

“Hunting exercise with color, dad’s having a blast hunting us all in the woods for sport, poor Mia swallowed that crap, I think Connor and Eimiko are the only ones intact so far, but considering the scream I heard a few minutes ago I think only Connor is left and Eimiko is coming to the captured base.” the girl reported angrily. “My hair is a mess, and I have bruises all over my body, I have a commercial next week! Since I’m bored until dad and Connor finish killing each other, I decided to do a quick check, Cassie said you finally woke up.” 

“Yeah, whole and ready for another round.” Tim smiled at her. “Should I expect a call from Greta too?” 

“No, I think the college will only spit her out tomorrow night after the anatomy exam.” The girl replied, a scream came from the back along with another louder scream and a laugh. “Dad got Connor and I think Roy got dad, he went looking for revenge for falling first, dad always hunts him first, he always tries to get us in birth order, strange habit.” 

“It’s so he doesn’t risk forgetting one of you.” 

“Well, he kind of forgot about Connor for years, we can’t blame him for being cautious.” The girl laughed. “I need to go, J, call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll steal the jet and get to Gotham quickly, see you in three days.” 

The phone dies, Tim puts the device in his pocket and goes back to drinking his juice, he notices all the eyes on him. 

“It was Cissie, the Queens left on a training trip a few days ago, she’s required to participate to stay in shape.” Tim explained himself, Dick made a sound of understanding, and Jason did too. Roy was frequently at Oliver's training sessions, but the rest seemed confused. “Cissie was part of my first team. She retired a few years ago, but she comes back when we need help, so she stays in shape. She went by Arrowette, she's Oliver Queen's biological daughter, the Olympic medalist.” 

“He's unbearable about it.” Bruce seemed to remember and grimaced. “Every time we meet it's the same thing, ‘my daughter has an Olympic medal,’ ‘my son does volunteer work,’ ‘my daughter is starting college next year,’ my God, he's a pain.” 

“You wouldn't have lasted a day with my mother when I was winning anything at school.” Tim spoke before, any of them could point out Bruce's hypocrisy, because he was exactly the same. What surprised them was that Tim never mentioned his parents: "She kept the framed certificates alongside her and Dad's diplomas; she had everything saved since I formally started my studies." 

There's a second of silence, until Jason breaks it: 

"Are you alright, kid?" 

"Sure, I feel great." Tim smiled at Jason. "Why?" 

"Nothing." 

… 

They are rested, which generates a lot of pent-up energy and leads them all to the recreation room that was built when Dick moved into the mansion. He's returning from his own room where he went to get his cell phone when he finds Tim and Jason in the entrance hall. He stops at the top of the stairs and takes a few steps back to get out of their line of sight. 

“Why are you leaving?” 

“I had breakfast, I've already exceeded my quota of companionship, and you normally would have exceeded yours by now.” 

“I'm stuck here until Cassie arrives.” Tim doesn't justify why he doesn't want to go home. Dick realizes he has no reason to stay; he's in good health and ready to go after all. “Stay.” 

“I can give you a ride to the Nest…” 

“Jason.” His voice becomes serious. “Keep me company until Cassie arrives, please.” 

“What happened in that maze?”

“Nothing.” Tim assures him sincerely. “It's more bearable with you keeping me company.” 

“Can I keep you company at home...” 

“Jace.” 

Silence. 

“Okay.” 

… 

They're in the recreation room, Cassandra is playing Animal Crossing on the Switch stretched out on the sofa, Damian is curled up like a ball next to her playing Pokémon, Titus is lounging on the floor in front of them, Jason is in an armchair reading a book, and Tim is on the floor playing Stardew Valley, leaning against Jason's legs. 

Bruce is near the window reading work reports. 

When Dick enters minutes after witnessing Tim and Jason's conversation, he sighs, everyone too absorbed and individual for his liking. 

“Okay, let's put down the technology.” Dick clapped his hands. “Hide and seek in the mansion, I'll count.” 

“We're not kids, Big Bird.” 

“Come on, Jason, it's basically tradition now, we haven't had this many people in years, Damian barely got to enjoy it.” 

“No, the last time I played this you forgot to look for me, and I spent two hours hiding in the kitchen cupboards.” 

“Look at the poor kid who didn't have a normal childhood, Jason.” Dick pointed at Damian, “You deny the poor wretch the chance to enjoy playing with family?” 

“I’m not poor or wretched, Richard…” 

“You heard the prince, he’s not poor or wretched.” 

“Damian, quiet, you’re not helping…” 

“I can hunt you down.” Cassandra says out of nowhere, “I’ll hunt you down.” 

“You meant find us?” 

“No, I meant what I said.” Cassandra’s eyes gleam, “Fly, little birds.” 

They’re running over each other before either of them thinks, Bruce’s sigh follows them all as they run, and Cassandra’s countdown ends. 

It turns out to be quite humiliating how she returns to the room with one of them at a time thrown over her shoulder as if they weighed nothing. 

Damian is the first to be caught, having hidden in the vents. Cassandra found him and easily grabbed him, dragging him along the mansion's corridors and dropping him in the living room. Indignant, Damian sat next to Bruce, who had the mansion's camera monitoring system mirrored on the giant television in the living room.  

They watched it. 

Dick comes next. Cassandra finds him hidden inside one of the kitchen wall cabinets. How Dick contorted himself to fit in there is a mystery Bruce never stopped to understand, but Cassandra grabs him and throws him over her shoulder. He accepts his fate and is soon unloaded in the recreation room. 

Cassandra hunts Jason relentlessly. Because of his size, people think he's less stealthy, but it's the opposite; Jason knows how to disappear well. The League's extra training made him good at it. Cassandra hunts like a predator; even with the silent filming, they know her feet don't make a sound on the ground, her body doesn't emit any presence. She finds Jason when he's changing hiding places, from the laundry room to one of the upstairs rooms. Jason runs, Cassandra runs and knocks him to the ground forcefully. They hear his scream from afar. She drags him by his feet. 

Tim is missing. 

The problem is that not even Bruce saw where Tim disappeared through the cameras. By the time he finished programming the television, the boy had already vanished. Cassandra walks through all the rooms on the first floor before starting a frantic run from one side to the other. They can hear a noise similar to laughter and moving footsteps from a few rooms away. The cameras don't catch Tim in his game; Bruce suspects he succeeded where Damian failed with the ventilation. 

Cassandra finally catches him. He's balanced on the second-floor stair railing, his body facing away from falling. Cassandra stops at the end of the hallway and runs. Tim laughs loudly; the sound travels off the walls. He doesn't jump; he runs down the railing with masterful balance and performs a somersault at the end to land on the ground. Cassandra, on the other hand, jumps from the second to the first floor and manages to land on top of him. 

She's a little too competitive. She brings her last prey, who is still laughing, over her shoulder and drops Tim to the ground. 

"I think we can stick to a team game that doesn't involve my younger sister humiliating me." 

"Coward." 

They end up playing Minecraft on a shared server; the shouting is better than humiliation. 

Jason still has an uneasy feeling; Tim's movements on the stairs reminded him of something, not the same, but very similar. He's not surprised the boy disappears so easily; he once mentioned in passing about training with Shiva and that he learned many things by observing the Assassins of Ra in the past, but the way he moved on the stairs? It's nothing like Robin's or the League's movements. 

The psychological terror of laughing and running seems like Tim that Jason knows; he likes to play around sometimes, and Jason can't count how many times the kid has caught him by surprise—he's hard to catch. 

But Tim doesn't move like that. 

Tim also doesn't share much about his personal life; he would never talk about his closeness to the farm or the good memories with his parents. This is making Jason uneasy. The way he asked for company, Jason couldn't refuse him. Whatever Tim's reason for torturing himself by spending more than one meal with Waynes, Jason was curious and wanted to know. 

He looked at him strangely, but Tim was laughing at Dick complaining to Damian. He fell silent and kept his brother company, ignoring the way Tim had scratched his cheek five times in the last ten minutes. 

… 

Dinner is served at six. Cassandra Elizabeth Sandsmark arrives punctually. She exits the Zeta, greeted by the current Batgirl, and follows her upstairs. She leans over to Tim and kisses him on the cheek as she passes his chair. 

He seems fine, stable, a victory compared to the madness of the first few times Junior took the lead. Over time, his personality has become increasingly sane, and they believe he will be completely dominated by Tim in a few years. He himself said he retains more memories now than before, a good sign. 

Or whatever lies they tell themselves to justify the fact that Tim would drag that chain for the rest of his life. 

“How are you?” 

“Physically, emotionally, or mentally?” 

“Overall?” 

“Needing a cigarette.” JJ was sincere, Cassie laughed, she had taken a pack for him from Tim's room in the tower, JJ would probably smoke it on the way home. “Jason smokes that Marlboro Red crap and Cass smokes Lucky Strike, Dick says he quit but I think he still smokes in secret, the hypocrite.” 

“Since when you smoke?!” Bruce blinked, completely surprised, then shook his head and turned to Cassandra and Dick. “You told me you quit, Dick!? And you, Cassandra?!” 

“Wow, a very judgmental tone coming from Mr. Cigars every Friday.” 

“I’m a grown man!” 

“Just like everyone else in this room except the kid.” Jason nodded towards Damian. Bruce stammered, Jason turned to Tim. “And stop talking shit about my cigarettes, you ungrateful brat, you think I don’t know who steals my packs from the cartel?!” 

“I’m helping you quit smoking, I throw them away.” 

“I practically don’t smoke, and you know that!” Jason complained, throwing his hands up. “And you don’t smoke often either; I think it’s been months since I saw you put a cigarette in your mouth.” 

“Tough week.” JJ shrugged, turning to Cassie. “Do you mind if we fly a bit?” 

“Any destination in mind?” 

“Kansas?” he asked. Cassie readily agreed; it would be less than an hour’s flight. JJ showed the classic signs of Tim’s exhaustion, so he’d probably sleep halfway there, maybe even wake up like Tim. “Thanks.” 

Cassie nodded without speaking. She focused on the piece of meat being served for dinner. She wasn’t startled when JJ picked up the knife and started playing with it, twirling it between his fingers. After tiring, he began to eat, cutting everything into tiny pieces. JJ could never eat much, always small portions, a reflection of the long hours he’d gone without eating during the torture. If he ate too much, he’d vomit it all up before the meal was over. 

In the beginning, they learned that JJ couldn't eat much, nor could he be exposed to bright or flashing lights. Loud noises should be avoided to prevent startling him. He also has no pain threshold, so they needed to be extra careful of any possible injury, since JJ never complained. 

He is always armed with knives, and at first, it wasn't strange that they would wake up with JJ holding a knife to their throats. After that, they discovered that he can't sleep alone, so some meta always sleeps with him to hold him when nightmares happen. 

JJ is a good shot; they hide any object that could be used as a firearm, and they also revoke Tim's credentials for access to the Tower's work areas. 

That was in the past. Now, JJ is good enough to impersonate Tim without problems. Nobody notices when they switch, as long as he doesn't experience any triggers like being directly exposed to the Joker's venom, receiving an electric shock, or seeing the Joker and Harley Quinn in person. JJ manages to fool everyone. 

He never fools any of them, not when they were the ones who were there during his most violent arrivals. It's as easy as breathing to notice the change; JJ has mannerisms that Tim no longer possesses—the look, the tilting of his head, the more mischievous tone. JJ is a version of Tim that has stopped in time, in a way. 

“Are you having some kind of allergy?” Damian asks JJ. Cassie observes the small movement of blinking and tilting his head an inch to the side, a habit Tim had when he was Robin. He made many rehearsed movements to give credibility to the urban legend of the bird boy. He hasn't done that since he donned that cursed red costume. When he returned to Robin's colors, he didn't continue with cryptic mannerism. “You've been scratching your face since we woke up.” 

JJ lowers his hand; his nails had been distractedly brushing against the corner of his lip for a few seconds. He shrugged. 

“Allergic reaction, the domino glue melted a little when I was running from the flamethrower thugs, I washed it off and reapplied it when I could, but I think I had a reaction.” JJ grimaced and looked at Cassie. “Who would have thought the skin around my lips would be so sensitive?” 

“I brought your antiseptic ointment.” She rolled her eyes. JJ smiled contentedly. “Any new injuries I should know about?” 

“Oh no, I avoided most of the fights, ran and lost them in the maze most of the time. Most were villain henchmen with elaborate weapons, like the flamethrower and big mallets, like Dr. Quinzel’s old hammer. A lot of Joker guys from what I could tell, some Riddler guys too.” JJ shrugged. “Most started running when they realized which Robin it was.” 

Cassie translated, Joker's henchmen, who made JJ relive the times he tried to escape and was caught before the brainwashing was complete, when JJ took the lead he must have hunted the idiots like the madman he was, they'll find some henchmen with nasty burns. 

“You need to stop terrorizing the villains.” 

“A little too late, it ended up proving effective, almost none of them target Damian.” JJ smiled, he avoided laughing so as not to be discovered “The Riddler loves me.” 

“Oh yeah, I remember when you made him cry.” Dick frowned “I wish one of us could scare Scarecrow.” 

“Call Bart, Deathstroke fought him alone and never bothered us again.” JJ took a sip of his juice “Apparently the guy can handle any absurdity except a tiny teenager sticking his hand inside his body for vibrations and holding his organs, who would have thought.” 

“What?” 

“Yeah, he came with this story of ‘Rose is my daughter, I need to know who she’s hanging out with, blah blah,’ spent about thirty minutes dealing with Bart, never came back to the Tower, avoids our team like the plague.” JJ dismissed the subject with a nod. “We have a Plan A, Bart was a much less violent option.” 

“What’s Plan A?” 

“Fight until Arsenal arrives, Roy just needs an opportunity to shoot that guy in the head.” JJ shrugged. “Troia too, but we’re closer to Arsenal, so he gets the first chance.” 

“Yeah, that makes sense, I didn’t know he was targeting you guys.” Dick grimaced. “His problem has always been with us.” 

JJ nodded. Cassie noticed Jason’s suspicious face but didn’t comment. From what she could tell, none of them realized it wasn’t entirely Tim at the wheel, but she understood Jason’s strangeness. Tim never talked about San Francisco, it was always general details, never the absurdities. It was always “Yeah, giant frogs were crazy, but everything turned out alright.” Never a “We had an ant infestation in the Tower because Bart forgot a stash of jellybeans in the vent.” 

Always work, never anything personal. 

He was giving away too many clues, and on purpose. 

“J.” Cassie lowered her cutlery with a soft clinking sound. “Maybe we should go, I think you need to rest a bit.” 

“No, it’s okay.” JJ replied, turning to her, his hand reaching for her knees under the table, a comforting squeeze, but stronger than Tim’s and with digging-in nails. JJ always clung to everything. “I’m not tired.” 

“You…” she stopped, searching for the right words so as not to raise suspicion. She couldn’t formulate anything, so she cleared her throat, circled JJ’s wrist with her fingers, and gently pushed him away. “I am tired.” 

“I’m not, I feel like I have enough energy for a whole week…” 

“J…” 

“It’s not tiredness,” he says softly, JJ’s body leaning towards her. Cassie doesn’t even move as her friend’s chin rests on her shoulder, his whole body pressed against her arm. He raises his hand to cover his mouth and avoid lip reading, whispering almost without moving his lips, “It’s okay, Tim said it’s fine.” 

“Really?” Cassie raised an eyebrow, careful with neutral words so as not to raise suspicions. “What exactly was said?” 

“He said he has no more reason to hide,” JJ confessed almost without moving his lips. “He finally understood that it’s about him, nobody should tell him who knows or doesn’t know.” 

“Hm, I thought the secret was to avoid further disagreements.” Cassie frowned; it was Tim's version, nobody knew, to avoid unnecessary fights. At the time, Dick's relationship with Bruce was tense; he wanted to avoid a catastrophic fight, and Stephanie didn't need to live knowing that either. It would be more fuel to the fire that was already the family scene and the vigilantes, and mainly to prevent Dick from blaming himself. "To prevent people from feeling guilty." 

"It's not very important now, he won't admit it, but you know he's resentful. I think it's a form of punishment for all that madness," JJ explained. He leaned away from her and kept his tone low, signaling a private conversation between them. JJ reached for a knife and twirled it between his fingers again. "A noble justification that will conveniently shake all those who shook him in the past. It's perfect, don't you think?” 

"He should deal with that in therapy." Cassie grumbled, “Listen, I’m not against it. We’ve been telling him for years to start traumatizing people back, but are you sure? As far as I know, it’s a good time for everyone. Is it worth it? Isn’t it just a spur-of-the-moment impulse due to the terrors of the last week?” 

“Don’t be altruistic now, Cassandra.” 

Well, at least she tried, even without much effort; she did her part. She cleared her throat and returned to speaking in her normal tone, raising her voice so the whole table could hear. 

“What am I? Your emotional support?” 

“Technically,” JJ confessed, the knife sliding through his fingers, stopping dangerously close to his wrist. “Also, to get me out of here if necessary.” 

Cassie could handle one or two Gotham vigilantes, three depending on the combination, but there was no way she could get both of them out of there without serious injuries to both sides. Not with all the Waynes together in a house that had vigilante equipment. Anita was a much better option with her teleportation abilities. 

“And how are you going to do that?” 

“Oh, I thought I’d take it slow, you know? Explain it to everyone and all that.” JJ scratched the corner of his lip with the knife, he chuckled, something brief and low, “But I’m so annoyed, screw it, forget about taking it slow.” 

Cassie gently pulls the knife away from the boy's cheek, feeling all eyes on them. She knows this is the moment everything falls apart. As a precaution, she keeps the knife for herself, also keeping her out of JJ's reach; he was good at throwing things. 

“Tim?” Bruce called calmly. “Explain what? What made you angry?” 

“None of them noticed!” JJ exploded at Cassie, and she reflexively put her hand on his shoulder to keep him seated. “Like, how the hell didn’t they notice? I’ve been giving all the signs that something was wrong since I woke up, all my actions… Jason realized something was wrong, but I think he thinks I’ve ben replaced by some shapeshifter, which is a good guess, because it’s happened before…” 

Cassie watches Cassandra’s hand reach for a dinner knife; she sees the exact moment Jason discreetly puts his hand behind his back, probably a gun; Damian grabs the knife from the table without disguise; and Dick keeps his eyes fixed on JJ, just like Bruce. 

“It’s frustrating that everyone just accepted my clues as old habits returning, I mean, I haven’t done half of these things in years!” JJ complained, turning to Cassie, “It’s heartbreaking. Jason was the only one who didn’t know me before, he only knows me now and noticed how strange I was. My God, Cassie, if I’m replaced, will any of them besides Jason notice?” 

“You’re being dramatic.” 

“Oh, sure, calling the psychiatric ward patient dramatic isn’t very heroic of you, Wonder Girl.” 

She rolled her eyes. Tim was technically a psychiatric patient, even if his medication was tapering every few months and he was close to an experimental discharge from therapy, he still saw a psychiatrist once or twice a month. 

Still, he was incredibly dramatic. 

“If you’re not Tim, who are you?” 

JJ turned to Bruce, his eyes burning with anger. He leaned forward and grinned from ear to ear, making the skin patches wrinkle at the tips. 

“Why don’t you guess, Batsy?” 

Cassie pulled him back into place the second it took for the revelation to hit Bruce like a brick, his eyes widening slowly. Cassie watched with a certain glee as terror took hold of the man. 

“Cassandra, take Damian to the cave and ask Alfred to come up, log Tim out of the system.” Bruce didn’t take his eyes off Tim. “I know you two won’t listen to me, but I’d appreciate it if you could go down there and make sure everyone’s safe.” 

“Oh, for God’s sake!” JJ complained, turning to Cassie. “Can you believe this guy?! I’ve been around you guys for years, B. If he wanted to do something, he would have done it already!” 

“He’s not going to attack anyone.” Cassie assured Batman, then turned to Cassandra. “I’d get the kid out of here, this isn’t a conversation for children.” 

Damian opened his mouth to protest, but Bruce was already standing. JJ flinched toward Cassie, letting out a small scream of fright. Dick quickly grabbed his father's wrist tightly and stood up as well. 

"Someone better start explaining," his voice was serious. Bruce sat down again, and Dick let go of him. He turned to Tim, "Who are you, and where's Tim?" 

"Hi, I'm Junior. Everyone calls me JJ." He waved. "Nice to finally meet you formally. I mean, I've known you for years, but you don't know me. It's weird. We've spent so much time together." 

"What?" Bruce's voice was a whisper. "What do you mean?" 

"And where's Tim?" 

"Recovering." JJ shrugged. “He got tougher after the craziness of the European trip, but the maze finished him off, poor guy. Still, I think he’ll wake up soon; it wasn’t worse than the desert. I think. It wasn’t that much physical damage, you know? It’s just that he’s been exposed to so many triggers together for years. The fear and laughing gas are okay, but the electric shock was a bit much. Maybe the clown-faced thugs were the icing on the cake too.” 

Dick is looking at them with something Cassie would describe as silent hysteria. Cassandra keeps one hand on Damian and her eyes fixed on Tim. Jason must have realized his gun disappeared at some point, so he’s leaning back in his chair looking at Cassie and Tim with a concentrated expression. 

Damian is so shocked by the absurdity that he’s holding Cassandra’s hand without realizing it. 

“I’ve been trying to desensitize him with some playful shocks,” Cassie told JJ, adding to the table, “Exposure theory or something.” 

“Well, it worked with Bart and the sushi, I think it’s worth a try.” JJ scratched his cheeks again. “I’m out of bandages down there, I’ve been using this one for almost three days, my God, it itches so much.” 

He turned to Cassie with tears in his eyes. She sighed and gently peeled off the bandage, revealing the familiar white line. Tim was paper white, and yet the scar was still familiar—an irregular line that ran from the corner of his lips and extended four centimeters toward his ear. 

It had shrunk two centimeters over the years. The scar-healing ointments from Anita’s grandmother’s books, combined with the expensive dermatology treatments Cissie and Greta had him undergo, made the scars very different from the deep red lines etched into his skin that he had at the beginning. 

They were reaching the point where reconstructive plastic surgery would be possible. “It doesn’t look so bad.” Cassie assessed, lightly touching JJ. JJ hissed in pain; the area was red, but it seemed like a reaction in the surrounding skin, not the lines themselves. “Ointment will ease the discomfort; it’s not infected like the other times.” 

JJ turned his face to the table to see. There was a collective gasp followed by the sound of the knife Damian holding under the table falling. Dick mumbled something incomprehensible. Cassandra’s hand was trembling, and Damian moved his chair slightly closer to her. 

Jason seemed to have switched off, just staring at JJ with a blank look. 

“JJ, there was no need for this…” Bruce took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “Tim won’t like this…” 

“Sorry, I thought the torture scars were ours, not yours?” JJ dismissed Bruce with a wave of her hand, “You’ve controlled this narrative long enough, Bruce. Tim agrees with me; he said I could show up next time, said he doesn’t care anymore. He hasn’t cared since he went to Europe, but he kept quiet for the sake of family harmony, but he told me I could talk when I got back behind the wheel. I haven’t shown up in over a year.” 

JJ’s last appearance was a traumatic event for everyone involved. The argument she and Tim had, the exact moment JJ took the lead, and Cassie realized that the argument (and all the deaths, if she were honest) was hurting Tim so much that his mind was converting grief into the pain of torture. 

That Cassie was what was holding his mind back from breaking, and that now she was throwing a hammer at the glass, she remembers the anger she felt at not being able to yell at Tim for all the shit he had done and for the shit he was trying to do by going after a ghost that might or might not exist, a Batman who might be alive. Remember that JJ didn't even stay long, he barely took the lead before Cassie swallowed her anger, hugged the boy, and comforted him back to his senses. 

When Tim woke up, Cassie was still seething with rage, but she told him to do what he had to do, gave him a tight hug, and sent him on his way, because that bitter blessing was the most, she could offer. 

“You were lucky he killed you.” Jason's voice makes everyone jump. Cassie looks at him and pretends not to notice her trembling leg under the table. “You told me that once when you were high from anesthesia and I was stitching you up. You told me I was lucky, is that why?” 

“He tortured me for a little over a month along with Harley.” JJ explained, scratching his cheek, “He messed with Tim’s head with a combination of torture and chemicals, he broke his mind to create a sidekick. He was jealous of Batman and Robin, and Harley wanted a family. I was the result of the experiment, the son, JJ, Joker Junior.” 

“Dissociative Identity Disorder?” Dick asked cautiously, looking at Cassie. “Is that it?” 

“Something like that, but not exactly. After the torture, they synthesized an antidote for the chemical part of the damage; his body was completely cleansed. This allowed his mind to regain control and inhibit the behaviors he learned as JJ. As long as his mind was alert, JJ's mannerisms were controlled.” 

Cassie tried to think of how to explain the madness that was Tim's psyche. “Every now and then we saw glimpses of unusual behavior. We discovered this when we started living together at the resort and saw him without the patches. He explained what happened, and we finally understood why he always burst into laughter whenever he was shocked. JJ wasn't something 'alive' at the time, just mannerisms activated by triggers.” 

“So how did he become like this?” Damian asked, confused. “This is clearly a complete personality.” 

“This?!” JJ complained indignantly. “I have a name!” 

“Excuse me, how did Junior become a complete personality?” Bruce, determined to ignore the absurdity of the situation, Damian rolled his eyes. “Tim has one of the sharpest minds I know, he would never let this get this far.” 

“The first time JJ showed up when we were sixteen, he arrived with his old personality. He tried to impersonate Tim to return to Gotham, but it didn't work, he attacked us, we had to contain him.” Cassie remembers that terrifying night in her room, when Tim woke up and she realized that wasn't his look. “It took weeks until we could come to an agreement. Lots of talking, medication, and therapy until we had this civilized version of JJ. That first time he was behind the wheel for almost a month, since then we get a visit from him whenever Tim goes through something that triggers him or when something throws him so off balance that his mind thinks he's being tortured again and pulls out the characteristics that made him survive that time. 

It's the moment of silence when everyone thinks the same thing. 

“It was you.” It's Dick who voices the general sentiment of the table; he's looking at Jason. Dick has always been quick to anger, something Cassie always noticed from Tim's stories. The accusation comes armed with anger and resentment, "Jason..." 

Jason seemed to have had a breakdown, staring wide-eyed at JJ and pale as a sheet. 

"Oh, for the love of Hera, he's not that important!" Cassie complained, rolling her eyes. She fixed her gaze on Bruce. "Want to guess what happened to him at sixteen that made his mind lose control and allow JJ to return with such force? What could have happened for the stress to be so great that his brain confused it with torture? You remember, right? It was your courtesy after all." 

It's a sweet moment when absolute horror crosses Bruce's eyes and completely disarms him. He falls back in his chair, looking at Tim with terrified eyes and so much guilt that it makes Cassie smile. Well, all the suffering he endured would be too little. 

Because she remembers Tim trembling at her door after the ordeals of his sixteenth birthday, she remembers dragging him inside, the days that followed of him whispering and trembling every time one of them approached, she remembers the trembling and wide eyes, the constant "Is this real?" whispered every few hours, she remembers the end, when Tim's consciousness faded in a faint and he woke up minutes later as JJ. 

It's one of the moments when despair truly hit her as a heroine, it was there that Cassie had a new shock of how dangerous their lives were. 

"What is she talking about, dad?" Cassandra's voice is calm, controlled, and deceptively soft. Bruce is still stunned, so she addresses JJ, "What's wrong, Junior?" 

“It’s our business, you have to talk to Tim about it when he gets back, it’s up to him to explain if he wants to.” JJ waved his hand, but gave her a serious look. “And don’t bother asking if he doesn’t want to talk.” 

“Surely you don’t expect us to accept all this nonsense without a concrete explanation?” Damian seemed shocked. “Timothy isn’t here because of that…” 

“Don’t be dramatic, kid, I’m right here, it clearly makes no difference to you.” JJ clicked his tongue, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been switching with him for years and none of you ever noticed.” 

“It’s impossible.” Cassandra stated. “Either Dick would have…” 

“You didn’t succeed today when I gave the most obvious signs in the world, do you think you had a chance when I was actually acting like Tim and not a time-stuck version that you both seem to take for granted?” JJ wasn’t being cruel, he was being sincere. “I’ve been ahead for weeks, and nobody noticed anything.” 

“You knew about this?” Richard regained his composure and faced Cassie. “The Titans, do they know about this, I mean, Junior?” 

“Well, yeah, I mean nobody besides me, Bart, and Conner knows exactly what it is, but they know Robin gets a little weird sometimes because of something. Everyone’s kind of gotten used to it; he and Rose have shooting competitions, they call him J, and everything’s fine.” 

“Are you saying that a personality who was the Joker’s sidekick is walking around with Titans credentials and nobody knows about it?” Richard seemed on the verge of a nervous breakdown. “Cassie, this is…” 

“We’re not irresponsible, Richard. Megan looked at his head. Tim goes to therapy once a week, he’s medicated. JJ was adapted and doesn’t have free access to the Tower; he’s not alone for a second when he’s awake.” Cassie interrupted, rolling her eyes. “We know how to handle Tim’s weirdness better than anyone. Obviously, we notify a senior hero in case something gets out of control.” 

“Who?” 

Bruce's voice is icy; he's searching for a name, the colleague who betrayed him. 

"Tornado." Cassie shrugged. "Ma Kent kind of knows too. It was totally unintentional, let's be clear, but the day we could hide something from her is yet to come. She's known about scars for ages. Tim almost never wore the patches there. JJ took the lead one bad night, went downstairs to get a drink in the kitchen, Ma grabbed him and served him tea. When Kon came down, she asked if that was the guy who onw the scars and almost scared them both to death." 

"How did she notice?" Cass asked cautiously. Cassie doesn't know why she's torturing herself like this, but she's not going to sugarcoat it. "Why didn't he wear the patches at the farm?" 

"Tim only wears the patches in Gotham and at the Tower if the whole team is staying there. When it's just us, he doesn't wear them." Cassie explained, “Ma has known about the scars for years. She noticed that JJ walks quietly and Tim tries to make noise as a courtesy to civilians, so when he suddenly appeared in the kitchen and seemed terrified to see her, she held him back a little, a few words, and she knew it wasn’t him.” 

She watches Cass flinch at the truth, and part of Cassie feels empathy, and part of her wants to say good for her. 

“To be honest, Clark kind of figured it out first,” JJ explained, Bruce turning his head so quickly his neck cracks. “He’ll die saying he didn’t, but one of the first times I dealt with the League back then, he looked at me all weird. Years later, when he saw the scars for the first time at the farm, he knew. He recommended my therapist the best doctor in Quadrant 14.” 

“Apparently, JJ’s heart beats differently than Tim’s. It has something to do with smell, too.” Cassie grimaced. “We try not to delve too deeply into the heightened perception of Kryptonians so we don’t lose sleep.” 

“It’s very sexy…” 

“NO!” Cassie covered JJ’s mouth with her hand, receiving a playful bite followed by a lick. “For God’s sake, spare us, there’s a child at the table.” 

JJ chuckled, throwing his head back. It was a somewhat hoarse sound, unlike the Joker's shrill laugh, as if Tim's rich-boy laugh was mixed with a hoarseness. 

"Did you take the lead during Tim's trip?" Cass asked with a hint of curiosity. "At any point?" 

"Unfortunately, he was not very determined at that time and didn't give me a chance. I tried several times to step in to test Ra's immortality personally, but no. 'We're not going to kill my brother JJ's grandfather,' and I was like, 'He wants to kill us!' and Tim would say, 'No, he wants to recruit us.'" JJ acted out the argument with himself, rolling his eyes. "He was so focused, I didn't have space, agonizing. Actually, this trip is the reason I believe I'll disappear in a few years. Tim went through that shit, and his mind didn't pull me forward. It's an evolution. I'm sure I'm only out here now because he was caught off guard by many triggers at once." 

“So, you think he’s healing?” Bruce asked, immediately intrigued. “That you’re going to disappear completely?” 

“Yeah, I guess so.” JJ shrugged. “I think he’s been through worse than torture, and if he survived it, he doesn’t need me anymore. I don’t think I’ll disappear, just fall asleep until some catastrophic trigger wakes me up, but does not vanish. In the end, Tim assimilated a lot of my behavior and personality; there will still be a little bit of me left.” 

JJ flexed his hands and fell into a melancholic silence. Cassie knew this firsthand; for years she had watched JJ blend into Tim in some way, whether it was the hideous habit of ordering sugary drinks, sleeping with knives within reach, or the way he threw his head back when he laughed. She thought JJ would completely merge into the patchwork quilt that is Tim’s personality, and that way the two of them would have peace. 

Part of her thinks it didn't happen sooner because Tim couldn't accept the fact that JJ had killed someone; he considered himself far superior to his colleague, refusing to process it all. But Tim's trip through Europe served to knock him off his high horse of morality and make him recognize that he himself had made choices almost as questionable as JJ's in shooting his torturer. 

“I thought you would have shown up during the Darkest Night.” Cassie hummed. “You know, with everyone coming back…” 

“Thank God no, I hate dealing with zombies.” JJ turned to Jason. “No offense, you're cool, one of the reasons I stayed quiet, very focused on preventing Tim from throwing himself into danger.” 

“Someone has to do it…” Jason stops talking and shakes his head to clear his mind. He turns to Cassie. “So we sit and wait for Tim to come back?” 

“Well, yes. I’ll take him to the farm for a few days, if he takes too long to come back, I’ll let you know…” 

“That doesn’t seem right.” Richard murmured. “That’s not right.” 

“There’s nothing that can be done.” Cassie shrugged. “Everything’s already been done.” 

“Literally everything.” JJ agreed, flashing his best manic grin. “You know why Jason wasn’t my trigger for creation? Because the Joker isn’t going to come after me. So I knew it wasn’t him. dad’s dead and Joker is too afraid of me to try anything.” 

“The Joker isn’t dead.” Jason disagreed immediately. “He’s in Arkham.” 

“My father is dead, I killed him, a clean, precise shot to the head.” JJ smiled at Jason. “The Joker in the asylum is the one who killed you; the one who raised me was a different one.” 

“Two of them?” Richard blinked, confused. He turned to Bruce. “There were two?” 

“Jerome, the twin of the one who’s imprisoned. We never managed to find any record of him or the other; we know nothing.” Bruce explained. “They usually acted together in more complex plans that required the Joker to be in two places at once. Jerome wasn’t like his brother; he was discreet and enjoyed controlled chaos, a psychopath. They were so good at being the Joker that nobody, not even Dr. Quinzel, knew about it.” 

“When the Joker was arrested and couldn’t escape for a while, Jerome assumed the main identity and started working to free his brother. That’s why it took them so long to find me. How could the Joker be a suspect if he was in prison?” JJ explained calmly. “I shot him in the head, brains everywhere. The Joker doesn’t mess with Tim because he knows that if things get physical, he won’t hesitate to pull the trigger, at least that’s what he thinks. 

He will hesitate. Cassie always knew that. Tim doesn’t kill; he values life above all else. Tim doesn’t kill, that will never change. 

“We never managed to find out anything about them, not even the Joker’s name. We only knew Jerome’s name because it was stitched onto one of the clothes, and there were letters exchanged between the two explaining their kinship.” Bruce concluded defeatedly, “Jerome is dead.” 

“You killed him.” Jason seemed completely detached, his voice robotic, and he stared at JJ emotionlessly. “You…” 

“Want to know a secret?Tim always wanted to tell you this, but he never managed to justify those words, so listen to someone who has the right to speak on this: killing him won’t change anything.” JJ’s voice was bitter. “It doesn’t change anything, Jason. I won’t lie, it’s a good feeling knowing that guy can’t hurt me anymore, but it doesn’t change the fact that he already hurt me.” 

Richard got up from the table and practically ran out of the room, his hand on his mouth and stomach making it clear he was going to vomit in some bathroom on the first floor. Cassie thought it was a bit dramatic, but who was she to judge? 

“A little too dramatic.” JJ wrinkled his nose and turned to Cassie. “Shall we go? I think I’ve terrified them enough.” 

“Sure.” Cassie stood up and JJ followed her. “Thank you for the meal.” 

“Wait, can’t he stay?” Damian surprises them. “He said he knows us, but we don’t… It’s only fair, isn’t it? To know who he is?” 

Junior lets out a shrill laugh, this time identical to his father’s laugh. Jason takes a deep breath, Cassandra tenses her whole body, and Bruce looks desolate. 

“It would be nice, Baby Bat, but you’ll have plenty of time to interrogate Tim. My time here is limited.” He smiled, somewhat calm, and resigned. “I want to spend time with my friends. I don’t know how much time I have left. I want my family.” 

Junior patted Bruce on the shoulder as he passed him; Cassie followed with a farewell wave. 

They walk together to the exit, ignoring Alfred standing outside the dining room, motionless, clearly digesting everything he heard and his share of the blame. JJ offers er his arm mid-walk, and they go out into the gardens and face the night sky. 

“Kansas?” 

“Yes, I have to settle things with the chickens.” 

JJ climbed into her arms, like a bride would, his head resting comfortably against her neck. He inhaled deeply the scent of Cassie and smiled. 

“You came, thank you.” 

She squeezed him in her arms and took off. 

... 

From: Timbird 

Hey, the chickens still hate me. 

-JJ 

(Blurred photo of Tim holding Mary Ann in his lap and almost getting pecked in the face) 

Jason looked at the photo. It was the day after the bombshell revelation. He was holed up at home, brooding over everything, sleepless all night, tossing and turning in bed, Tim's scars in his dreams, the evil laugh in his ear, and now the boy was texting. 

“I want my family,” JJ had said. For some reason, Jason was included. 

Trembling, he forced himself to type. 

From: Jace 

They must have nightmares about your face. Leave the animals alone, weirdo. 

Since you're taking up the front of the line and have time to bother the poor chickens, look at the files on our case with the Huntress and send me your opinion. 

...