An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Anyway surprise! This is a mess
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Anyway surprise! This is a mess
It’s been like thirty to forty minutes…
Collecting the Hints alternative reveal, featuring Wally :D
Word Count: 1505 words
I don’t know if I’ve shared this on tumblr already?? Oh well
“Look, you got to hear me out. Let me make my point before you shoot me down.”
Roy was visiting Wally’s home, along with Lian. The girl had wandered off to find the twins, and they were being surprisingly peaceful, save for the occasional yell of “UNO!” that erupted from the other room.
Roy looked Wally straight in the eye, and stated, completely seriously, “I think Nightwing and Red Hood are brothers.”
Roy raised his hand, silencing his friend as he continued speaking, “Remember that time ‘Wing got stuck on an alien planet as a puppeteer translator?”
Wally held back his objections, for the time being, as he shivered, “Don’t remind me. That was terrifying to witness - although, I guess you know exactly how unnerving it was.”
Roy nodded solemnly, “You know that Kori and I got him back. What you don’t know is that Red Hood tagged along with us - and it was Red Hood who came out of the king’s chamber with Nightwing in tow. Not me, not Kori. A seemingly-unrelated third party, who up to that point had never shown much acknowledgement of Nightwing’s existence.”
Wally was frowning now, actually giving Roy's words some thought. Roy continued, “Remember when we first met Jay? Remember when we were all a bit hesitant to allow him with us on a mission, but Nightwing was the one who encouraged us to give him a chance?”
“Not to mention, that time when Batman was presumed dead. Jay went under the radar for roughly the same period of time as Batman was gone. Didn’t you mention that you couldn’t contact Dick during all that, either?”
Roy was getting somewhere, he knew just by Wally’s expression. “Okay,” Wally spoke slowly, which was very slow for a speedster, “The Batman connection is a bit far-fetched, but I can see the Nightwing and Red Hood connection.”
“What do you want to do with this information?” Wally asked tentatively, because he recognised Roy’s scheming face.
Roy smirked.
“We have a theory, Walls. Now, we just have to prove it.”
-
To “prove it”, they had to get both Nightwing and Red Hood in the same location.
“Why are we in Blüdhaven, Arsenal?” Red Hood questioned curiously, his leg propped at the edge of the rooftop.
“Nightwing needed help with a case,” Roy offered, because that was the truth. Dick had contacted him first, asking for an assist, and Roy jumped on the chance to drag Jay along. If the two really were related, then they would probably be suspicious. Roy was unfazed - all he needed was them to slip up once, and he would have the proof he wanted.
Nightwing touched down on their rooftop soon after, and acted surprised at Red Hood’s presence. Roy saw through it - there was something like amusement underneath his acting.
Nightwing briefed them on the situation and plan of action, and before long they were skirting around a shadowed back alley, watching from above as the gang gathered for their nightly dealings.
“I have all the evidence I need to get the gang’s leader in jail,” Nightwing repeated quietly, “We just have to find him, catch him, and drop him off at the PD.”
“Easy for you to say,” Red Hood muttered, “I can’t see your guy, ‘Wing.”
“Keep looking. He’s probably going to appear, soon.”
They fell silent after that, and Roy was silently frustrated at Nightwing’s general silence. Usually he was bantering away, even on a stakeout. Roy felt like he was being played.
Their target appeared eventually, and they were able to catch him out pretty quietly, but the man was prepared. Roy only spotted the blinking red light of an emergency beacon right as several armed men ran around the corner and started to open fire.
“Arsenal, take the gang leader and go,” Nightwing ordered, shoving the man’s unconscious form towards him, “You know where my case notes are. Hood and I have this.”
Roy obliged, darting off before most of the men could realise he was disappearing with their leader. He managed to lose the rest of them among the rooftops, and made a quick detour to snag Nightwing’s case notes from where they were hidden within a wall before dumping both the evidence and the gang leader at the front of the Police Department.
When he rounded back towards where he had expected his friends to still be fighting, he was surprised to find the area quiet. The thugs were all tied up and awaiting arrest by authorities, and he found Nightwing and Red Hood a few rooftops over.
“-you being a revived zombie doesn’t have anything to do with this!” Roy caught Dick’s exasperated sigh, “You are living, breathing, and alive, as far as I’m concerned.”
“But you acknowledge that I’m a revived zombie?” Jay commented back, smug satisfaction mixed into a tone strained with pain.
The conversation died the moment Roy stepped onto the rooftop. Nightwing was wrapping gauze around a knife wound on Red Hood’s leg. His hands were steady even through the occasional grunts that slipped past the injured man’s helmet. When he was done, Dick rested a hand on Jay’s shoulder and squeezed, seemingly in ignorance of Roy’s presence.
Roy huffed.
“If you two aren’t brothers, then so help me, I’ll have to assume you two are secret lovers, or some shit like that.”
Jay barked out a surprised laugh, while Dick sputtered, but he was smiling, so Roy knew the man was not completely caught off-guard.
They opted to head towards the nearest safehouse, before anything else was mentioned.
“First things first,” Jay drawled as he removed his helmet, pointing a finger towards Dick, “He’s adopted.”
Dick made a noise of vague offense, while Jay smirked. Roy furrowed his eyebrows, the many questions in his brain quickly rearranging with this new piece of information.
“Is that a serious comment? Because if it is, then I have questions about that time Nightwing was held captive on an alien planet.”
Jay waved a hand lazily, “I’m telling the truth. Remember what Kori mentioned? Even those aliens were not necessarily tied by blood, when it came to family.”
He paused to catch an ice pack from Dick, holding it to a blooming bruise on his arm.
“Roy, my man, you and the Outlaws are as much of a second family to me as Dickie over there. That’s the thing, though - the team's second family. That guy, loathe as I am to admit it, is my first family,” Jay nodded his head over to where Dick was returning to the couch with an ice pack of his own, beaming despite the bruise forming at his jaw.
“How did you get wind of Dick being, well, compromised?” Roy questioned curiously.
Jay paused, visibly holding back. “We have our means of communication,” he allowed, “But for that case specifically, well - news flies fast through the hero community.”
“Saying that: d’you think you could keep your mouth shut about the two of us knowing each other? We’re planning on outing ourselves soon, sure, but we have a timeline for that shit that I want to keep to.”
Jay was pointedly ignoring Dick trying and failing to make space on the couch for himself to sit on. Jay’s feet were stretched over where Dick was trying to sit down.
“Jay,” Dick huffed, annoyed and amused, “Move your legs. Just because Roy knows now doesn’t give you the excuse to be a brat.”
“You’re right,” Jay grinned, and Roy was surprised at how young his friend looked at that moment, “It gives me the right to be a brat. It’s an express pass, actually. Would be a shame not to use it.”
Dick rolled his eyes, but eventually Jay did move, and he rested his legs back on Dick’s lap so comfortably that Roy was surprised it had taken him this long to connect the two.
He wondered just how long they had danced around him, dropping hints at every opportunity.
“Why keep this a secret?” Roy questioned, gesturing between the two of them, “And please, oh please, tell me Jay’s ‘little brother’ isn’t out there, too.”
“Little brother?” Dick questioned, sitting forward only to be shoved back by Jay, who answered the first question.
“Enemies can use either of us as bargaining chips, if they knew,” Jay explained, “Plus, keeping us separate means that there’s always that element of surprise we can rely on, if it really comes down to it. That, and it’s easier to build our own reputations when nobody’s comparing us to anyone.”
“Little brother?” Dick repeated, an eyebrow raised in question as he stared pointedly at his brother. Roy would have to get used to how familiar the two were, in each other’s presence.
“Little bird,” Jay offered, and Dick grinned. Apparently that was their little brother’s nickname, then.
“Should I be concerned?” Roy asked, brow furrowed in concern.
“Nah,” Jay smirked, “You’ll find out eventually, anyway.”
Now that was not comforting. How many of them were there?
Photographer!Tim draft :D my first attempt at writing Snapshots of Gotham
Word Count: 4043 Words
(that’s a lot,,)
Enjoy!
Little Timmy genuinely loved photography.
It was something his parents had little to no control over. He always hid his camera away from them, only using it when they were not around.
They were never around, not for long.
His motivation for getting a camera was to photograph Batman and Robin, sure, to get that undeniable proof of their existence. However, to get to that point, Tim had first worked himself up from capturing still objects to buzzing insects and bugs, then finally, the Bat and his Bird.
Even after he became Stalker-Tim, he continued to photograph for fun. Gotham’s skyline was hardly taken from the top of towering buildings, after all, and Tim fondly remembered the first time he had waited on a rooftop to capture a sunrise.
Then Jason had died, and Tim stopped photographing Batman. Then Tim became Robin, started to stand by Batman’s side, and a good photographer was never their own subject.
Tim kept his camera gear away. Film cameras were a dying trade, and when Tim needed photos for evidence and cases, all he had to do was take footage from his suit’s camera. Even if he was Tim Drake-Wayne, nobody looked twice when he fiddled with his phone and “accidentally” took a photo of someone with suspected criminal connections.
Now Tim was Red Robin, and Jason had returned, and Jason was his brother. Many things had changed since then.
Tim and Jason had started patrolling together, recently. It was a simple matter of coordinating their days away from their teams, making sure that at least one person was helping Batman in Gotham, if not more than one. As the years went by and the Bats grew in number, a buddy system had been unanimously formed.
“Hey, Timbo, what’s in this?” Jason held up a small box, old and worn but with a very new and very customised padlock - the Bat kind of padlock that only those who recognised it could pick apart. Whatever was in the chest, it was important enough to warrant such a lock.
Tim looked up from where he was dumping his Gotham gear - he replaced a domino with a cowl that casted a silhouette very similar to the Bat himself, and a cape with a pair of gliding wings that would spread out with a quick flick of a switch.
He found it useful as a makeshift shield, and for the many times he found himself falling from great heights. He always had his grappling hook, of course, but gliding was just that much more exciting for him.
Jason claimed that people had taken to calling him Small Bat, for his bat-ear cowl and smaller stature.
Tim’s eyes fell on the box, and he smiled fondly.
“Oh. That’s my camera box. I used to take photos when I was younger,” Tim explained vaguely.
At Jason’s raised eyebrow, Tim let out a small chuckle. “Open it,” Tim encouraged.
Jason shrugged and, in less than five minutes, had the lock picked and opened. He tossed the lock to the side, flicking the chest open. He blinked.
There was a worn camera case inside, flaking leather that was scratched up from continuous use. Below the camera were developed photos, and rolls of what looked to be unused film.
“You had a film camera? I thought a techno-geek like you would have a digital one,” Jason commented, setting the chest down and gingerly removing the camera from its casing, squinting at the numerous marks on it.
The side of the camera was bashed, dented, but the lens was intact. Jason looked back down at the chest’s other contents, realising belatedly that an old model of a Batarang laid on top of the developed photos. It was a model from his time as Robin.
He sifted through the photos, and his jaw dropped in surprise.
The photos were from the same era as the Batarang - he knew, because he recognised himself as the person pictured in red, green and yellow in the photos. There were also photos of Batman and Nightwing, Nightwing wearing a version of his Gotham uniform with much brighter blue lines, almost neon.
“Surprised?” Tim’s voice jerked Jason back into his surroundings, his eyes flicking up from the picture to his brother.
Tim was wearing a smug smirk as he continued, “I used to stalk you guys as a kid. Snuck out of the house at night and found ledges to hide in and wait for the Bats to appear. I figured out your patrol routes, confirmed the Robin myths, heck, I even found out Batman’s secret identity. I held that over B’s head when I forced him to make me Robin - it was one thing to sneak around them, but it was another to know private information.”
Tim had already insisted early on that he was not his Replacement, that he had forced his way into the family, but now Jason felt like he had missed out on a lot of details Tim’s brain had labelled as “unimportant”.
“You rascal,” Jason grinned at his brother, “You managed to hide from Batman before you even got any Bat-training? You even took photos of him, me and Big Bird without us knowing? Dammit, Timbo, you were a Bat before you even became a Bird.”
Tim blushed furiously, but he still managed a smile. The kid was getting better at receiving positive feedback.
“Thanks. I - uh, well, you can keep some of those, if you want. They’re photos of you, after all, and I bet you guys don’t have many pictures like that,” Tim gestured to the chest with his hand, his eyes holding something wistful as he fingered his camera.
Jason had an idea. He grinned widely, and Tim looked up at him with narrowed eyes.
“Don’t give me that look, Tim. This’ll work in your favour, trust me!”
Oh, sure, Tim trusted Jason in life-and-death situations. It was just that he had discovered, between boredom or entertainment, his brother often chose entertainment - in the form of messing with his siblings.
“Let’s make a trade,” Jason grinned, eyes sparkling with that look he got whenever he was about to set off explosives, or prank any one of them, “If you can photograph the brat and Dad during their patrol without them knowing, you’ll be getting free food from me for the next month whenever you want. Bonus points if you get photos of them tripping, or something.”
Tim tilted his head, so much like a bird that Jason wondered whether they all did the same thing, “And what if I get caught? Damian would kill me.”
Not literally, thank goodness, but Damian would still be incredibly pissed off. He would probably not be allowed to see TItus for the next three months, if Robin found Red Robin taking photos of him from afar.
Jason shrugged, “Free food, Timbo. Take it or leave it.”
Tim pursed his lips. He was relatively confident in his own stealth, enough that he felt like he actually had a chance in getting a few clear shots of the kid and Bruce. Besides, what with their anonymity in Gotham, there were little to no photographs of the Bats in action when they were younger. He had taken a few of Dick, and many of Jason, but Damian? Not yet…
“Alright,” Tim agreed, because even if he got caught, he could at least develop whatever he already managed to capture, and Damian would have at least something to commemorate his time as Robin. It was important that the kid had something to remember how far he had come, in the future.
-
Jason burst through the door of Tim’s apartment, no less than thirty minutes after Tim had returned home from a mission with his team.
“Can I help you?” Tim questioned drily, making a mental note to sweep his apartment for the hidden bug that had most definitely informed Jason of his arrival in Gotham. He would either remove it or leave it be, depending on how intrusive the bug was.
“Up and at ‘em, Timbo,” Jason grinned, “We got a camera to buy, and camera film to find. You won’t believe how stupidly rare old camera shops are, nowadays.”
Tim blinked up at his brother, from where he was still slumped over on his couch. He was in a scruffy sweater and track pants, nothing like Tim Drake-Wayne the CEO. It seemed to be the appropriate attire for their excursion, because Jason was dressed in a ratty hoodie and jeans, and the bike he was led out to was Jason’s “civilian” bike, the one he used for normal travel and transport.
“We’re… getting a new camera?” Tim repeated Jason’s earlier statement, trying to conceal his internal excitement by stuffing Jason’s spare helmet on his head. Jason barked out a laugh, his eagerness bleeding through his muffled voice despite his best efforts. “Yeah, Timbo. You hardly use your cash, anyway, so we’ll have no problem getting you the best camera for the job,” Jason chuckled at Tim’s excited twitch, his hands wrapping tightly around his torso as Jason sped onto the road.
They came to a stop at a small corner store along a nondescript street. The store was run by an old man who was happy to show the brothers his products, and more than happy to converse with Tim about “camera shit”, as Jason had so aptly named it.
They spent much longer simply talking to the store owner than actually buying the camera.
“Mr Cameraman mentioned something about a dark room?” Jason questioned, as they sat down in a fast food restaurant a few streets down, Tim having carefully stored his purchases in one of the hidden compartments of Jason’s bike.
Tim nodded, wrinkling his nose as Jason stuffed his french fries into his milkshake, “Yeah. We need a completely pitch-black room to develop the photos in. Otherwise, the film won’t be able to be used if it’s exposed to light. We’ll need to make our own dark room, given what we’re trying to photograph.”
“That’s step two, then,” Jason declared, pointing at Tim with a milkshake-drenched french fry, and popping it into his mouth, “Make your walk-in closet into a dark room. I don’t get why you have that place if you’re not about to use it for your clothes.”
Tim had a considerably smaller set of drawers for his actual clothing. The walk-in closet only held his business suits. Tim shrugged, because even he himself wondered that some days, but now he was glad for the extra space that could be so easily converted into the room he needed for his - hobby? - to fulfil this bet.
Tim was trying hard to deny how excited he was to return to something he lost when he became Robin. It felt right, to pick up a camera again after he left the Robin post behind.
-
Tim felt a little ridiculous, wearing his camera strap over his Gotham uniform. At least Jason had not made a big deal out of it, which was a good thing.
He was supposed to be out of Gotham already, so he was officially not on the roster of Gotham vigilantes for that night. Unofficially, Oracle had agreed to ignore him unless the Bats absolutely needed assistance, and had also wished him luck for his endeavour.
“Have fun patrolling alone, RH,” Red Robin smirked at Jason from across the roof. Jason grinned back, flipping his red hood over his head.
“I’ll see you next time you’re in Gotham, Double R,” Jason stated, because Tim really was leaving Gotham right after his “patrol”, “And I better be the first one you show your photos to!”
“Just as soon as I get them developed,” Red Robin promised, and soon they were grappling away in opposite directions.
It was not difficult to find his little brother and adoptive father.
Robin was crouched on a rooftop, Batman watching with his arms folded in front of him, as the boy tried to coax a stray cat out from behind an air conditioning vent with a handful of treats. Tim raised his camera to his face and began snapping away.
He took other photos, too. Photos of the duo grappling into the night. Their back profiles against the Gotham night sky, the Wayne Enterprises logo in the distance. Batman’s rare smile, directed at Robin, after they apprehended a group of men planning kidnappings.
He returned to his apartment satisfied, despite needing to pack up immediately and leave town to join up with his team on time. His successful night was worth the hours of sacrificed sleep.
-
The next time he was back in Gotham, he first spent time developing his films and recovering from injuries - as much as he could keep up with his meta-human friends, he was still twice as vulnerable - before he called Jason, since he had destroyed his brother’s original bug.
He chose to ignore the man slipping another bug into his door frame as he walked in.
“So, how’d it go?” Jason grinned, “Seeing as I heard nothing from the brat, I’m assuming you succeeded?”
In response, Tim held up his personal favourite shot - Batman talking to the Commissioner, with Robin looking down on them from a higher rooftop. Tim had to make use of all his old tricks to get that shot lined up.
Jason whistled appreciatively, nudging Tim with a grin, “I hope you got some juicy ones, as well. You’ll need something on hand when the kid discovers the art of blackmail.”
“Oh, I assure you, I’m keeping some of these for myself,” Tim nodded sagely. He then touched his camera softly, lying on its side on his small dining table. Tim hummed thoughtfully, “What are the chances of me catching Dick off-guard?”
“Extra month of free food if you manage that,” Jason quipped. Tim perked up, “Speaking of which…”
“Yeah, yeah, you hungry monster. You should be real glad that I brought my own ingredients. Remind me to stock up your fridge, because I can’t feed you free food without anything to cook, dammit.”
Red Robin managed to photograph Nightwing the night after. Oracle had badgered Tim into sending her a photo of Damian feeding the kitten, which was his ticket to being ignored for another night.
He managed to get the moonlight just right to show the blue accents of Dick’s Gotham costume. He was flipping in one, doing a handstand in another beside an unimpressed Robin, and grinning openly at Batman, who himself had a small but genuine smile.
He then proceeded to attempt stalking the Red Hood himself, despite him knowing about his camera sneaking.
He caught the Red Hood swinging a kid onto his shoulders, the bubbly child latching onto his red hood and tugging viciously at it.
After his first “red hood”, just a piece of cloth covering his head and neck, Jason had since received a similarly-coloured hooded. buttonless trench coat of sorts that blended into the blackened bricks of alleyways. It had the leathery consistency of his Red Hood jackets. Personally, Tim thought it made him look like a character from Assassin's Creed.
Jason spoke softly to the kid, and started walking down the street, the child babbling happily as all children tended to do. Tim watched from afar, lowering his camera and simply smiling at the scene, at his brother following a child’s directions back to his home.
When Jason arrived at the kid’s house, the light was on in the window. Jason set the child down, looking on as he stumbled his way over to the front door. He blended into the nearest shadows as the child banged noisily on the door, calling for his mother at the same time.
The door swung open, and the child was embraced by a teary-eyed woman. The child talked animatedly about Jason, describing his cape and his hood, then turned and startled when Jason was nowhere to be seen. The mother smiled fondly at her child, ushering him in. She turned back to the empty street and spoke, loud and clear, “Thank you for my son.”
Tim chose not to photograph the man smiling in the shadows as the door closed.
He did, however, snap a photo of his brother tripping over a stray grappling line at the end of the night.
-
Tim slid onto a couch in the library and waited. Cass came through soon after, having returned from Hong Kong for a short visit.
Cass regarded him with a soft smile. “Little brother,” she greeted, and Tim grinned, “Hey, Cass.” Tim patted the seat next to him, and Cass flipped herself over the back of the couch and onto the cushion, landing with a soft puff of air. She had learnt that from either Jason or Dick, but Tim bet it was Jason. He liked vaulting over things almost as much as Dick.
“I’m telling you first because I know that you’re the last person I could sneak up on,” Tim explained, Cass tilting her head in both question and acknowledgement, “I’ve been going around with a new camera, getting some photos of everyone out on patrol. Do you mind if I take pictures tonight of you doing your thing? I won’t interrupt you or anything, but I know you’d be able to rat me out if I tried to do this secretly.”
Cass paused in consideration, then nodded happily. “You already tailed the others?” she questioned, and Tim smirked smugly, shoulders set in what Cass would definitely identify as pride, “Yeah, I did. I even managed to get some shots of Damian. I can show you some of those, after patrol.”
Cass smiled, and pecked Tim on the cheek in assent.
Black Bat was harder to keep up with than any of their siblings. She was the best of all the Bats, something even Damian admitted to. When she wanted to hide, she could and would disappear off the face of the earth.
Tonight, however, she was patrolling with Spoiler, and between the only two of the Bats who openly talked to civilians and superheroes as Bat-affiliates, who were the exceptions to Code Bat, they were hardly trying to be sneaky.
Steph loved Batgirl, and she could do the stealth needed for the role just fine - but sometimes, she preferred striking up conversations beside civilians as opposed to in the shadows, and she loved working with the Birds of Prey as well.
Tim suppressed a chuckle as he watched the two girls drop by a twenty-four hour store for ice cream, this apparently being a routine of sorts. He guessed that from the way the employee startled and lit up at their presence, but was generally unsurprised at their appearance.
He snapped a picture of them eating ice cream against the greying rays of dawn.
Later, when Steph had retired to her house, Cass beckoned Tim out of the shadows. She pointed to his camera, tilting her head, “Show me how to use it?”
Tim showed her where to aim and where to click, and as he cast a glance over the roof’s edge, a soft snap sounded from beside him. Tim turned back to see Cass holding the camera, pointed at him, with a soft smile. She then glided over to him, pulling him back off the edge of the roof, and raised the camera like she was taking a selfie. Tim was sure that the camera caught his small smile.
-
Tim rode his bike right to the door of Wayne Manor, and proceeded to remove a chest from his bike’s storage box just as Alfred opened the door. His camera was slung across his shoulder like a sash, and the chest was a new one, simple polished wood with a rather obnoxious black bat logo on its side. It was a gag gift from Tam, who was bewildered by how oblivious the greater superhero community was of the Bat’s relations. When questioned, Tim just shrugged, “We all have our own distinct fighting styles. If you stripped us down to our basics, though, we’re all built from the same mould.”
A Robin-shaped mould, at that.
It was thanksgiving dinner. Even Steph was there, her mother taking an extra shift during the holidays. Tim waited until the dishes were cleared and everyone had moved to the sitting room before he pulled out the wooden chest, placing it dramatically on the coffee table at the centre of the room. His siblings were perched on the arm rests of couches and sofas, or just perched on the head rest itself, with only Bruce and Alfred actually occupying the seats like normal people.
Tim smirked inwardly when he realised Damian had begun copying them, as well.
“What’s this, Timmy?” Dick questioned, swiping the chest off the table in one smooth motion. “Hey, let everyone see - consider this my pre-Christmas gift to all of you,” Tim snatched the chest back, placed it back on the table, and flicked it open, stepping aside and watching the changing expressions on their face, emotions openly expressed in the comfort of their home.
The first photo on the top of the stack was Cass and Steph’s one. It was followed by one of Cass’ selfies, and Tim was definitely smiling in that one.
“Oh, man, when were you spying on us?” Steph’s tone was admonishing, but she was smiling brightly at the rare picture, coupled with its beautiful backdrop.
Jason grinned sharply, meeting Tim’s eye with a raised eyebrow. Tim met him with a mirthful smirk, as the next picture appeared - Jason brooding on a gargoyle, overlooking the city. “Dammit. I didn’t notice you,” he muttered to himself, tilting his head at Tim. Good job, the look said. Tim beamed.
The next photo was one of Dick’s, caught in mid-air with an upside-down smile, halfway through a flip. His big brother pulled him into a tight hug, marveling loudly at the way he had captured him despite the dim lighting of the night.
Last but not least was one of the original photos, the reason he had gone on this photo spree: Robin and Batman, leaping off a building together, along with the photo at the GCPD he had showed Jason early on.
Damian’s eyes widened, then narrowed in his direction. There was no malice, only surprise, and something like acknowledgement of his stealth skills. Bruce smiled warmly, and met Alfred’s eye, who had yet to comment.
“Why don’t you store all these photos somewhere, Alfred? I know you treasured Tim’s photos of us back in the day,” Bruce collected the photos and deposited them back in the small chest, handing it to Alfred’s capable hands.
“Of course, Master Bruce. I only ever get to see each of you with your own teams, and never as a collective,” Alfred’s soft gaze turned towards Tim, “I am glad to see you are picking up old hobbies, Master Timothy. I always wondered what happened to your love for photography.”
Tim shrugged shyly under the curious gazes of his family, “I got busy, I guess,” he shared a smile with Jason, “But the promise of free food was more than a good motivator.”
The chatter of the night continued on, and eventually they fell silent as they watched a movie together. They took shifts for patrols, those who came back settling in for whatever part of the movie they had returned to, swapping with the next shift who reluctantly left the room behind.
It was as the credits rolled that Tim was nudged lightly awake.
“Do you think you could take photos of Titus? I would use my phone, but they’re never of good quality,” Damian whispered, expression hesitant and young, something he rarely saw from the boy. It spoke volumes of how far Damian had come, how much he had grown, to be able to show vulnerability to his least favourite sibling.
Tim smiled, “I used to take photos of some stray dogs on the streets. Getting shots of a well-behaved dog like Titus will be no issue.”
Damian smiled, small but bright, before turning away and mumbling a goodnight.
They always found themselves sleeping together in the sitting room after movie nights, after all.
After Code Bat is out, I just imagine Tim getting called by Jason or something, and Kon, because of superhearing, hears the end of the call:
”See ya soon, Babybird.”
Tim hangs up and is about to say something but Kon just has the widest grin on his face. “Babybird?”
I consider this the “first draft” for Code Bat - the one where the concept actually solidified into something semi-coherent. It takes great inspiration from other “Justice League meets the batfam” fics that I’ve read (honestly, the whole series takes inspiration from those).
Word count: 916 words
Enjoy!
This is stupid, he thinks, as he watches the scene unfold.
It had been years. Years of hiding the existence of his partners. Years of pretending not to know each one of them, every time they rose out of the shadows. Years of working with them and the League, and hiding the fact that they knew each other more than people thought.
They had just managed to get through a worldwide crisis without revealing their connection. The biggest partnership between youths and adults yet, and still everyone remained none the wiser to where each of the Gotham vigilantes had come from. Nightwing was known to be from Bludhaven, not Gotham. Red Hood was known to have made a fuss in Gotham, but that was about it.
Red Robin had simply appeared and joined the team now known as Young Justice, and Robin had been kept hidden in Gotham until now, with the new moniker of Shadow to join the newest team of young heroes.
The youths had been invited to the watchtower to tend to their wounds and rest. Each of them were sprawled around the massive meeting room. Batman scanned the room discreetly, checking for each of his kids. Red Hood was leaning against a pillar in the shadows, Bizarro and Artemis close by.
Nightwing was story-telling with Donna on the couch. Cassie - Wondergirl - was on the floor and leaning forward, latching onto every word they said. Kon-El was mildly interested, leaning against the side of the couch, while Red Robin perched on the arm rest beside Nightwing, seemingly occupied on his laptop. Minute, split-second nudges and touches reassured both of them of the latter’s presence.
The Birds of Prey were in their own corner, Dinah introducing Oliver with varying degrees of success. Black Bat sensed his gaze and gave a discrete signal that they were unharmed. Tired, but unharmed. Batman gave a sharp jerk of his head and moved on.
Robin was talking to his new team, Jon - Superboy - and Blue Beetle. They were babysitting Lian, if the way she was grinning happily on Jon’s shoulders was anything to go by.
Then-
“Waffles, anyone?”
Spoiler strolled in with a plateful of waffles stacked precariously high, quickly making the rounds and offering the fluffy dough to everyone around her, the speedsters stealing more than one every few moments. Bart had now positioned himself onto the other side of the couch, Wally ruffling his hair as he tried to nab the waffle from his hand.
He was just about to accept a waffle himself when a chime erupted in his ear.
“Heads up, guys. Arkham breakout.”
A collective groan resounded from everyone connected to the same private comms. “Do you need all of us?” Batman rumbled, ignoring his children’s theatrics. “Well, no, not really. It wouldn’t hurt for more than one person to come, though.”
There was a very pregnant pause, as each of their teammates cast confused and baffled glances at each of them. It had not been the first time they heard the robotic tinge of Oracle coming through their comms, after all. “Do you need any of us?” Superman questioned, walking up to Batman with Diana in tow, “I know you usually don’t allow metas in Gotham-”
“I work alone,” Batman intoned, against his better judgement, “We can handle Gotham ourselves.”
Nightwing snorted. Go figure it would be his eldest who finally lit the spark.
“If you work alone, who’s this ‘we’? Batman needs to check his pronouns, right, Hood?” Nightwing’s smile implied he knew exactly what fire he was stoking.
“Just because I don’t butcher the English language doesn’t mean I’m the go-to for grammar errors, ‘Wing,” Red Hood drawled from his corner, drawing confused expressions from both the Outlaws and the Titans. Batman resigned himself to the secret finally seeing the light, as all the bats and birds chirped a “Yes it does” back at the red-helmeted man.
“Remember that time you caught me up at 3am writing a report, and complained about my phrasings until you knocked me out and grammar-critiqued the whole thing by yourself?” Red Robin piped up, “Not to mention that time Robin had to write an essay about Shakespeare and you-”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it, now stop exposing me,” Red Hood drawled, “Why don’t we talk about that time Spoiler painted your suit eggplant purple?”
“It was iconic!” Spoiler cheered, as Red Robin groaned and slumped off the arm rest, landing comfortably against Nightwing’s shoulder. Nightwing was still watching Batman, gauging his reaction. He seemed to find what he was looking for, because his face split into a wide grin.
“Arkham breakout guys, remember? Why don’t we all go? The Rogues won’t know what hit them when we’re done with them,” Nightwing stood to his feet and stretched. Everyone else took that as their cue to make their way towards the Zeta tubes.
“Superman, alert me if anything happens,” Batman ordered, before sweeping his cape and following after his family.
“Hold on! All of you are from Gotham? And all of you know each other? I’ve never seen any of you interact before!” Wally was waving his hands, gesturing wildly to all of them.
“Surprise?” Signal shrugged, “You’ll get used to it. Took me a while, trust me, but I’d never have it any other way.”
“Batfamily out,” Black Bat saluted serenely as the Zeta beam fired up and sent them each back to Gotham. The room was left in a stunned silence.
Reveal draft! An alternate Out of the Shadows scene, and Wally finding out in a different way (mentions of Dick’s death, and hand-wavy Spyral tech)
Word Count: 1872 Words
Enjoy :)
Code Bat started because of Robin’s safety, and it seemed it would end because of Robin’s safety, as well.
The villains had coordinated an attack in each of their respective cities - Central City, Star City, Metropolis, and Gotham City. Batman knew he was on his own.
He was just glad to have his partners with him.
The giant robot had been rampaging through the streets, piloted by Mr. Freeze, and it took all of the Bats working together to bring it down. The robot fell to the street with a thundering crash, and Batman swooped down to secure Mr. Freeze.
“R, here,” Robin rasped through the comms, and Batman knew instantly that something was wrong. His youngest son sounded strained, and there were soft sobs coming from somewhere near him, “There is a civilian trapped under the robot’s chest - a young girl, around seven. I am,” there was pause, a gritting of teeth, “I am trapped as well. My leg is immobile.”
Cursing over the comms - Jason, Bruce registered, - before Oracle was directing him to Damian’s exact location.
“I saw her in the way of the robot, and I merely had time to dive under a car with her,” Damian was explaining evenly, “The car’s body sustained most of the damage, but my leg has been wedged. The civilian will be easier to extract, first.”
Bruce frowned tightly, but he knew Damian was right. Help the unharmed civilian out, and then Bruce could deal with his injured child.
“Signal, standby to assist,” Batman ordered, and set about finding an opening he could use to reach them.
There was no Superman who would be able to assist him. Not now, because he knew Superman would still be fighting in his own city.
“Signal, grab the other end.”
Batman barely saw the movement, the boy’s invisibility cloak turned on, but he heard Duke’s small grunt, informing Bruce he was in position.
“On three. One, two, three-”
They hefted the chunk of metal up, and Batman could hear Robin coaxing the young girl to crawl towards the newly-formed exit. A small head soon popped out onto the sidewalk, quickly stumbling to her feet and towards where a woman cried out in relief.
“Robin,” Batman grunted, “Are you able to move?”
“No,” Robin replied, frustration layered over pain, “There’s still pressure over my leg. I… I can’t lift it up.”
“Don’t try,” Batman ordered, even though he could feel his arms straining, trembling from holding up the opening, “Black Bat. Can you crawl in and see if you can help R?”
A black blur dove into the dark underbelly of the metal scraps.
“Lift another piece,” Black Bat informed, “Will need someone outside, someone inside.”
The implications settled into them, a split second of reflection.
“B,” Nightwing’s voice trailed through the comms, “B, let us come down.”
They needed more people. They were on the rooftop, hiding, but more than ready to give up the shadows. The answer was obvious.
“Hood, help Black Bat lift from the outside. Red Robin, help to identify the right location. Nightwing, help secure the opening. Batgirl, be ready to help Robin.”
Batman’s partners - Bruce’s children, each established and formidable in their own right - descended around him. The Signal uncloaked himself, moving so that Nightwing could take part of the load. Red Robin directed Red Hood using the robot’s configuration, before he dived underneath the wreck to help Black Bat. Batgirl had spread her cape on the floor, and had retrieved the first-aid kit from the Batmobile.
Batman was aware of the crowd forming a distance away. Batman was aware of the phones pointed at them, recording the first real sighting of the Bats, out of hiding, in broad daylight. Bruce was also too preoccupied with rescuing his son to truly care.
“In position?”
Several short and quick confirmations.
“On three. On, two, three-”
The metal creaked where Red Hood hefted it up, and Batman could hear Robin’s pained hiss as Red Robin and Black Bat shifted him towards the exit. Batgirl disappeared underneath for a brief moment, emerging with a handful of dust-covered Robin.
Jason lowered the metal at Tim’s count-off, and Tim and Cass slipped out of the small air pocket. Bruce counted off for Dick and Duke, and they closed the opening, each turning quickly towards where Steph was looking over Damian’s leg.
“There is definitely something broken,” Steph grimaced, when she met Bruce’s eye through their cowls, “We should get him back to the Batcave.”
Nothing more needed to be said, Batman quickly collecting his kid and pacing back to the Batmobile. Nightwing kept pace with him, and Batman passed Robin to him.
“There were people filming,” Damian croaked out, grimacing as Dick shifted his hold.
“I don’t care,” Dick declared, cradling his brother, “And you shouldn’t, either. We were meaning to appear to the public sooner or later, anyways.”
“Nightwing and I are heading back first with Robin,” Batman sounded into the comms, “The rest of you-”
“We’ll take care of the robot and Mr. Freeze,” Red Robin agreed. Then, softer, “Just take care of Baby Bat.”
“Shut up, Red,” Robin mumbled.
-
Tim smiled to himself even as he strolled back towards the collapsed robot. He searched for the centre of the robot, where Mr. Freeze had been, and plugged his hologlove into the control panel.
“What’re you doing?” Jason asked, and when Tim tilted his head with a frown, added, “Black Bat’s handing Mr. Freeze over to the police. Batgirl’s treating the little girl’s injuries.”
Tim hummed in acknowledgement and answered Jason’s question, “The robots in the other cities look pretty similar. If there’s a chance that they’re all connected… ah, there we go.”
Tim fell silent as he hacked through the robot’s functions, and tapped his final entry with a satisfied grin. He met Jason’s eye a second time, holding up three fingers with his free hand.
He counted down from three to one, and when he reached one, Oracle’s voice echoed through their ears, “Robots in the other cities have all shut down, seemingly at random. A warning would have been nice, Red.”
“Dramatic delivery, O,” Tim replied, “And besides, I set them to shut down standing up. No one else is getting stuck under scrap metal, today.”
Black Bat met them at the streetside, with Batgirl.
“We should go,” Batgirl nodded towards where people were edging closer to the robot, “The crowd’s getting too curious.”
“And we better get back before Supes catches wind of what happened out here,” Red Hood added, and Tim agreed. Superman would come running if he knew something had happened in Gotham.
“Race?” Black Bat suggested, a smile playing across her lips. The other Bats grinned.
-
“It’s been a while since we’ve just hung out like this, hasn’t it?”
“It has,” Dick agreed with a smile, “Probably too long, if I’m being honest.”
Wally chuckled, and they fell into a comfortable silence. For once, Wally’s home was quiet - Irey and Jai were with the newer Titans today, getting used to being around others their age with abnormal backgrounds. It had been Dick’s idea, to introduce them to the younger Superboy and Roy’s daughter - plus some new faces that Wally had yet to form his opinion of.
They talked about random things for a while - Dick had moved away from Blüdhaven to be closer to family, Irey had become the new Kid Flash, Bart back to being Impulse.
Wally thinks about everything that had happened, thinks about that time when Nightwing disappeared off the face of the Earth, and asks his friend what had happened. He gets a pinched expression in response.
“Long story short,” Dick explained with a grim smile, “I got unmasked on live television. You don’t remember it, because that time I spent off radar ended with me reversing that event. Or, well, not reversing it - making everyone forget about it is closer to what happened.”
Wally tries to think of the event, what should have been imprinted in his mind, but he pulls a blank. All that was left were the impressions of a thought - like someone burst the bubble of perception surrounding his friend. A deep-rooted shock that felt like…
“You died, didn’t you?” Wally blurted, before he could reel back his tongue. It was the same set of messed-up emotions he had when Donna had died - she came back to them, but there were still the hints of unresolved trauma, buried deep inside him.
Dick stayed silent, and the shock grew roots and pulled up a memory - his eyes catching on a television screen, wanting to look away but feeling rooted to the spot. Bright blue eyes blinking in stubborn resolve at the camera, even while tied up and heavily injured. Lex Luther talking to a reporter, bringing the awful news that...
“Dick,” Wally breathed. Dick blinked, and was suddenly engulfed in an armful of speedster, clinging to him and shaking - not vibrating, but shaking in residual fear.
“You died. Holy shit, man,” Wally whispered, and tightened his hold further. Dick returned the hug, pressing his face into his friend’s shoulder, trying to reassure him that he was present and alive.
“I’m alright now, Walls,” Dick stated firmly, “I wasn’t even dead for that long, actually. Just a few moments, but we decided to hide that I was still alive, just in case people came snooping.”
“A few moments doesn't make it any better,” Wally hissed, and Dick could feel him pause, from where he was still wrapped around him. “We?” Wally repeated.
“What do you remember?” Dick shot back. Another pause. “You’re Dick Grayson,” Wally stated, and after one last squeeze, finally pulled back from the hug. Dick smiled and removed his sunglasses, and Wally took one look at his face and sighed roughly.
“You were Batman?” Wally smiled tightly, “No wonder you went dark on me.”
“I’m sorry,” Dick blurted, and cringed, “It’d have been hard to keep up communications with anyone during that time, so I made new connections as the ‘new Batman’. While I was kind-of dead, the only person I really talked to was B, because of the nature of my mission at the time.”
Wally sat back down and took a moment to process everything. “Bruce is your Dad,” Wally stated, and Dick snorted at Wally’s shocked expression. “Hey! Believe me, this is a revelation,” Wally flailed his hands, “I mean, we always knew that Batman had kids, and yeah, we knew about Black Bat, but you? His kid?”
Wally frowned, “Your childhood stories were from the circus, then.”
“Yeah,” Dick confirmed, “I only told stories from my biological parents. You probably only heard one or two stories that were about me and B, and Jay.”
Wally narrowed his eyes.
“Is the whole Wayne family like you?” Wally gestured helplessly, “Like, all of you are vigilantes? I know you mentioned everyone’s been through combat training, but, there’s more of you?”
Dick laughed, “You haven’t seen the news, have you?”
“News?”
Dick showed him the most played video from Gotham - the robot fight.
“That’s you,” Wally gaped, “And those are your siblings?”
“Yep!” Dick chirped, grinning at Wally’s shocked expression, “Can you place their names?”
Names?
This blew my mind, honestly <3
@snoctober actually made the website that was described in Chapter 6 of The Little Things! It has such a lovely aesthetic and it’s even better than what I imagined :D
Thank you so much, this really made my day!! It looks incredible <3 <3 <3







