Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tim scowled out at the view from the top of Titans tower, now the tallest building standing in San Francisco. At least since all the surrounding buildings had been reduced to pillars of rubble and dust.

The lights were off, and it was dark outside. No stars were visible through the smog despite the lack of light pollution. Tim watched, through his reflection in the wall length window of the tower, and into the empty husk of a city.

He gazed out at the fallen ruins of what was once a city he would’ve given his life to protect, and felt nothing. He remembered what it was like in the early days, with the sky painted orange and the streets painted red. Pandemonium as far as the eye could see.

Tim could still hear the screams, cries, deafening booms of falling skyscrapers. Now they were lucky to hear anything other than a cockroach within a 50mile radius.

Something had broken in him a long time ago, something he couldn’t fix, and something no one else had tried to. The only solace he found in that desolate mindscape was that he wasn’t the only one who had broken in those days.

From the shadowy hallway, Superboy drifted towards him. Silent to everyone but Tim.

“Cassie and Bart are nearly done in the lab.” He rattled off casually as he inspected his fingernails.

Five days ago he and his team had heard rumours of the Red Hood being spotted on the outskirts of Gotham.

At first Tim was confused as to how a living Red Hood had managed to crawl up from the gutter he’d buried him in. At first he thought, maybe the grave just spit him out a second time; but then, after watching him for a day, Tim noticed a pattern.

The same protocol the Batman drilled into him in the event of multiversal travel all those years ago. A smile lifted on his cheeks from where he watched in the rubble. Apparently, old habits do die hard.

He and his team watched, stalked, and hunted this foreign Jason. That red helmet made Tim’s blood bubble. Just the sight alone opened so many old wounds, too many to count.

However, despite his residual anger, he made the team hold back. Afterall, how long had it been since they had proper fun?

But that all changed when the Red Hood emerged from the ruins of the long-collapsed Batcave with a large cylindrical device cradled in his arms.

Tim’s eyes got that twinkle they had whenever he was gathering information, like a predator locked onto it’s prey. Pinprick pupils, prowling forward. Now it was getting interesting…

After Superboy stunned Red Hood long enough for Tim to snag a scan of the mechanic they had what they needed, and Tim’s hunch was confirmed. Blueprints for a multiversal hopper. Cassie and Bart were working on replicating it now.

In the tower, Tim turned to face Conner, who’s expression was difficult to read. Conner had been hurt badly by everything that had happened, but he would walk through hell if Tim told him too, so he stood tall.

“How long?” Tim asked smoothly.

“Three more hours, just to synthesize the reactor core.” Kon drawled as if bored.

Tim smiled, in cruel anticipation as to what was coming.

“Is everyone ready?”

Conner grinned like a wolf and winked in confirmation.

“Let’s go.” He couldn’t hide the sick satisfaction in his voice as he brushed past Conner and towards the elevator.

Young Justice had already shown this world what justice really meant. Now? They would show the multiverse.

This was going to be fun.

Tim’s eye hurriedly scanned the database alongside the report Jason had written up. No matches.

Whatever universe his brother had been sent too it wasn’t one they had anything on. Probably for good reason, Tim shuddered, thinking about Jason’s haunted expression after he returned home. Hearing it recalled from the Red Hood’s unsteady voice was bad enough.

It had been two days since Jason returned from his spontaneous multiversal trip, and dropped the bombshell that Tim would be the one coming to destroy the world before promptly passing out without unloading any other information. Not that Tim could blame him, Jason had been in bad shape.

Burns on his leg Tim recognised as Kryptonian laser marks, bruises and muscle trauma Tim knew only occurred when you collided with something traveling at extremely high speeds. Temporary tinnitus from close proximity to something very-very loud.

In other words? didn’t need to wait until Jason woke up to explain, he already knew exactly who was responsible.

Jason confirmed it when he roused a few hours later. Much less delirious but no less urgent. Somehow, someway, Tim’s old team of Young Justice had gone rouge. And suddenly, one of his worst fears ever since facing that version of himself from the future was realised.

Which was exactly why Tim was currently scouring every information source they had on all known multiverses, searching for any kind of information that would give them an edge. So far, nothing.

He slumped forward planting his face into his palms and swivelling the chair to slump up and pace anxiously.

He ran other the facts in his head, like he had done 100 times since Jason woke.

Evil versions of Tim, Superboy, Impulse and Wonder girl.

Who together, single handedly massacred the Justice league.

And all hero teams that followed.

Scratch that, any group or individual who could pose a threat to them, dismantled or dead. Including but not limited to the league of assassins, the legion of doom, the court of owls, and many more.

Jason had painted the picture. Bodies of heroes pinned down by the dozen. Gruesome displays of power, a twisted future built on the ashes of justice. Blood and fire blazing down the streets, childrens screams. A world reborn from a slaughter. And standing at the top of all that chaos and destruction? Tim.

After Jason had finished, Tim excused himself to think on the roof of the manor. He had too many thoughts, conflicting inquiries. He can’t even remember the last time he’d so much as spoken to someone on the old team. Sure, it was mostly his own fault, what with avoiding all their attempts to reach out. But now, knowing in another universe they turned against the JLA together?

He was placed on monitor duty, they’d have a couple minutes of warning after the bridge was activated, but not much. Someone needed to watch at all times, they couldn’t take any chances of letting these guys get the jump on them. Jason had emphasised it with a stake knife through Bruce’s antique dining table at the mere suggestion that he might be overestimating the threat.

“Look, I know- I know what I saw Bruce!” He’d hollered, yanking the knife out of the splintered oak and waving it in Bruce’s face. “We can’t take any chances, okay? They will come, and they will kill us all!” He’d sounded so desperate to make them understand.

Since his returned he’d acted different. He still wouldn’t look at Tim. In fact, Tim could’ve sworn Jason tensed up at the sight of him, or flinched stiffly at the sound of his voice.

He had no clue what to make of it, so he’d just been pretending not to notice. And trying not to take it personally.

It was another version of him; sure they looked the same but that was where the differences ended. At least Tim hoped it was. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around everything Jason had said.

Not that he’d have time to.

A sudden blaring alarm filled the cave; red lights flashed from the portal deck and Tim leapt up in time to see teal blue electricity crackle across the floor and glass walls. The machine shuddered, hissing and spitting as steam spilled onto the floor from the vents at the base.

No time. They had no more time.

Oh God, Tim wasn’t even in uniform. He doubted the others were either. They’d be rushing to the cave this second.

Focus, you have t-minus two minutes, what can you do? Tim dashed to the wall decked with equipment and snatched a bō staff from the holster. He turned back to the deck, almost stumbling into Damian who’d appeared right behind him. They exchanged a look of affirmation, no time for words.

Dick and Jason bolted into the cave, faces grim, followed closely by Bruce. Tim ignored them, heading for the portal deck and checking the screen bolted to the base, it was glitching in and out of focus, flashing colours, then static. Tim grit his teeth, the design was only a prototype, it could bring the whole cave down!

The five of them rendezvoused in formation, facing the hopping deck that had only grown its fit in intensity. Steam continued pouring from the vents, lapping at their ankles. While smoke swirled around the inside of the cylinder, illuminated by teal lightning and the red blaring of the alarm.

“Remember,” Bruce growled, not removing his eyes from the machine. “We don’t know what they want, but they’re landing in our territory. We have the advantage here, so act accordingly.”

In response, Jason cocked his gun.

All at once the whirring ceased. The portal deck stopped shaking and hissing as the lights from the teal electricity simmered down into crackling spark. The noise of the alarm cut, plunging them all into a deafening silence that bounced off the walls. The scarlet light pulsing in and out carried on like a warning, illuminating the glowering faces of the others besides Tim.

The bats tensed, weapons drawn, breathing stilled. Tim braced his posture, adjusting the death grip on his staff. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Dick bouncing on his heels, pumping himself up. He glanced around, eye’s darting back and forth, snagging on dancing shadows in the fog.

What remained of the spitting blue static died. Tim could’ve sworn the temperature in the room dropped; he could see his breath.

They waited.

Before anyone could say anything, two balls of red light, accompanied by a searing laser sound split though the smoke. Superboy’s eyes shone red, revealing four silhouettes stood on the deck, the middle ones cape billowing.

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

They’re here was his last thought before the world turned upside down.

Chapter Text

Tim coughed as the breath was knocked from his lungs. Forced by something heavy and dense slamming into his chest, sending him flying backwards and skidding to a stop on the rough cave floor.

Black dots swarmed his view of the cave celling, he wheezed on his back like an upturned beetle, trying to make sense of the yelling voices and flurry of movement.

He pushed himself up, using his staff as a crutch, struggling to get a grip on the scene. The other bats were shifting around, darting back and forth as if they were furiously looking for something. Between them, zipped a red and white blur, weaving between them but never touching.

Tim moved to intervene, help, do something. But stepping forward caused a stunning pain to ebb from one of his ribs. He stumbled, one of his hands raised to clutched at his ribs, reevaluating. Damn it Bart!

Impulse was clearly teasing the bat’s, never landing any blows that could do significant damage. Disconnected laughter echoed across the walls of the cave. Toying with them, that’s all it was.

Jason had his gun drawn, and was yelling incoherent threats, but he couldn’t risk firing it without hitting another bat. Tim knew he knew that, unfortunately, so did Bart.

While Tim struggled to think up a plan, despite still being stunned and wincing, clutching his side where Bart had rammed him. Impulse kept the bats occupied, herding them like cattle.

His eye’s drifted up to the deck, where the other new arrivals stood like omens.

Cassie was there, with a distracted grin on her face as she watched, seeming to enjoy the panic beneath her.

Kon was there too, and oh, he looked just like Tim remembered, except Kon never looked so cruel. He stood tall with his arms crossed; a satisfied scoff escaping his haughty stature.

But while they laughed, the other Tim watched. With an expression Tim had only ever felt, never seen. He was in uniform, but the Red Robin cowl was down, giving him a perfect view.

He was calculating. Where Conner and Cassie looked on with amusement, finding only entertainment in the suffering of the Bats - the dark version of Tim watched for knowledge. He was collecting information, based on how they fought, communicated, worked together. He was filing it away, analysing how to use it in his favour.

Tim only knew this because he himself had done it so many times before, it was practically second nature.

His breathing picked up as he hyped himself to dive back into the chaos, but before he could, the dark version of him turned his neck sharply, like a bird of prey, staring directly at him.

Tim felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise; he fought the urge to stumble back. The other him didn’t look away - didn’t even move, Tim couldn’t be sure he was breathing.

Wordlessly, like a panther, Tim watched him leap off the deck.

In that same moment Superboy followed, clasping their wrists together and gliding over the Bats. Tim had to turn to keep an eye on them as they soared overhead. They landed with deadly grace, Wonder girl joining them to their right.

Red Robin whistled sharply, before the note cut off there a whoosh of air brushed past Tim and Impulse had suddenly joined them.

No one moved. He sensed the other Bats besides him and felt a little braver. They’d reached a stalemate; Tim’s family faced with a twisted version of Tim’s old team. Faces he didn’t recognise anymore.

The atmosphere in the cave was so tense the slightest movement could’ve popped it. Tim almost didn’t dare breath.

Red Robin was the first to speak.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and make it clear this isn’t personal.” He drawled, toying with his bō staff.

“Speak plainly,” Batman ordered, “What do you want?”

A flash of irritation sparked on Red Robin’s face.

“Same warm welcome I remember so clearly.” He snarled. Flexing his shoulders.

“Whatever happened in your universe. Leave it there.” Batman continued. “You have no need for vengeance here.”

Red Robin honest to God laughed, but there was no humour in it.

“Is that what you think this is?” He asked darkly, twirling the staff in his hand.

“Is it not?” Batman inquired, voice like ice.

Red Robin’s jaw clenched it something like resentment, before a calm washed over him and his face returned to that chilling controlled neutrality.

“The fact you have to ask?” Growled Red, “Proves that I’m right.”

“So what’s your endgame?” Dick jumped in, interrupting whatever reply Batman was acting to say. “Killing us? The Justice league?”

Red smirked. “Something like that.”

“I hate to point it out but you’re outnumbered here.” Jason drawled, sounding almost bored. Tim could have kicked him. “How exactly do you plan on doing that?”

Red’s smirk deepened into something ugly and twisted. “The fact that you think that,” He spat, “Is exactly why you deserve this.”

The room definitely just got colder, Tim wasn’t imagining it. His eyes darted around, watching the other Bats’ expressions turn from stern to confused, as thick beige smoke spilled from the vents in the cave walls.

The others whipped around in confusion while the smoke grew in intensity, filling the cave to the brim as if they were in a silent sandstorm. But Tim stood still, frozen, as the pieces clicked together

Of course.

In such a dark, twisted universe she would never have been cured.

“Secret…” He murmured in horror.

“Good you remember her.” Red praised. “This will be fun.”

Through the dense smoke Tim could barely see past his arms. His training would only get him so far against metas in these conditions, not to mention the only equipment he had was his staff. He gripped it tight, spinning on his heels. Past the fog he could hear muffled sounds of blows landing, the scuffles of footsteps and yelling.

Out of nowhere a gloved fist swung at his face. Tim ducked, falling to his knees and shooting out his staff to trip his attacker but they were too quick. Jumping up with revitalised energy Tim went in for the offence. He struck quick and fast, melding welts from his staff with high kicks. Channelling everything he’d learnt from Lady Shiva to Ra’s Al Ghul.

Secret’s smoke was clearing now, but she’d achieved her desired affect.

Tim was momentarily distracted by the view of the battle before him. Superboy had Jason’s arm twisted behind his back, laughing while Jay struggled and snarled insults; scrabbling at Conner’s hair and face.

Wonder girl and Dick were locked in an intense one on one, with no clear indicator of who was in the lead.

And Bruce and Damian worked in tandem trying to trip up Impulse who, from what Tim could tell from the red smear that dodged their attempts, was just keeping them occupied. Playing to his strengths, knowing Batman could take him out if he actually engaged.

That split second wasted on observation earned Tim an elbow to the cheekbone just below his eye. He staggered back, doubled over, dropping his staff to clutch at his cheek. He hissed as an eye-watering sting exploded across his face, dissolving into a pulsing throb.

Red Robin cackled in a way that was so clearly Robin. Tim glanced up at him, seething.

Red kicked his fallen staff towards him; the bar of metal rolled to a stop at his feet almost tauntingly. Red gesturing at Tim to pick it up.

He removed fingertips from his cheeks and noted with irritation how they came away stained a slick red from his busted cheek. More motivated rage filled him.

Tim lunged forward, reaching for his staff and striking in time to block another one of Red Robin’s hits. Their staffs clashed against one another, Tim could’ve sworn he saw sparks.

They were face to face, noses almost brushing. Tim could see the pupils of Red’s eyes and the sadistic predator-esque twinkle in them.

“You know, I’ve fought evil versions of me before.” He pushed harder, gritting his teeth and adjusting his footing. “Safe to say I was never very impressed.”

Red snickered mirthlessly. “If you’re comparing me to that fool, then you’ve already lost.”

They separated as one, mirroring the others movements. Tim went to disarm his opponent but Red seemed to know every move he made as he made it. They disarmed each other, fluidly catching the others staff and continuing with their battle. Metal clashing against metal.

They exchanged blows, fighting ruthlessly. Tim didn’t hold back, he didn’t need to, the other him was matching his brutality effortlessly. It was like fighting a reflection.

Even then, Tim was taking more hits than he could land, it was so clear that the other him was drawing this out. He couldn’t keep going for much longer.

“What do you really want?” He wheezed, parrying a hit and leaping back to dodge the one that followed immediately after. “Why are you here?”

“I’m not explaining myself to the likes of you!” Red sneered and lunched forward, jabbing Tim in the gut.

Tim gaged, but recovered quickly.

“I am you.” He pointed out. “Maybe I’ll understand. Why do you want to kill the Justice League?”

“I don’t just want them dead;” He scorned, “I want them wiped from existence!”

Red yelled, punctuating his words with a blow to Tim’s knee that sent him crashing to the floor. He heard a pop and his joint gave way, refusing to hold any weight. Tim cried out, clutching his leg and looking up at Red with his staff raised high above his head. Ready to deliver the final blow.

“And now that you’ve gifted me your machine? We can erase them from every universe. One. By. One.” He tensed his arms, preparing to crack Tim’s skull open with his own staff.

“Wait!” Tim pleaded, “If you kill me you’ll be stuck here.”

It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make Red hesitate. He paused, looking almost taken aback, confusion washing over his expression. Then he looked angry.

Faster than Tim could react he switched positions. Shoving the tip of the staff under Tim’s throat as a very clear threat.

“What are you talking about?” He hissed, digging into Tim’s neck.

“The machine,” He wheezed. “It’s just a prototype. It was never meant to be used. Jason was sent to your universe by random. If you kill me now, it’ll remain unfinished, and you never be able to travel to another universe unless it’s your universe of origin.” He hacked, coughs wracking his body as the staff intrusion was removed.

“You’re lying.” Red decided.

“You’re smart enough to know I’m not.” Tim countered, grasping at his throat.

“Fine.” Red scoffed.

He glanced around, lowering his staff, before whistling a two-tone note.

At once, Tim’s body locked up. He couldn’t move, like he’d been vacuum sealed so tightly even breathing was laborious. The tips of his sneakers grazed the floor as he was lifted into the air and joined by the other Bats, also trapped by the same invisible force. They drifted to a halt in front of Conner, who was grinning smugly.

Tim had almost forgotten how annoying his telekinesis could be when you were on the receiving end.

Red Robin, Wonder girl, Secret, finally showing herself, and Impulse stood in a line, watching. Tim couldn’t help but wonder if Anita and Cissie were here too, waiting somewhere in the shadows.

This was the first chance Tim had to get a good look at them.

Impulse was buffering, his small body phasing in and out of sight. Electrical sparks crackled from Cassie’s fingertips, and Diana’s lasso was coiled neatly around her waist. Greta bobbed slightly above them, looking more ghostly than ever. Kon’s hair was longer, he had dark stubble grazing his jaw, his jacket was shredded, adorned with more spikes and chains than ever.

Then Tim looked at himself properly for the first time. His skin was pale, not the natural pale he always got comments on, but a sickly pale. On top of that, two scars carved into his cheeks. Faded, maybe but visible to the trained eye.

None of that mattered now though. Tim spared a glance at his family lined up besides him.

The bats were at their mercy.

Chapter Text

Cissie really hated teleportation.

Don’t get her wrong, she loved Anita’s powers and they’ve come in handy more than once. But the residue dizziness, the nausea, the disorientation – she was an expert marksman, you cant blame her for hating the feeling.

She blinked away the whirlpool of movement in front of her eyes and sighed, fiddling with the wires of the caves security system. From under the panel where she lay on her back, quiver discarded to make the task easier, she could hear Anita huff.

“Are you nearly done?” She snapped.

Cissie resisted rolling her eyes. Anita had always been hardnosed; that’s the one thing that’s never changed.

“Nearly,” She called back, struggling with a particularly stubborn wire.

“I could have done this in five seconds.” Anita grumbled, Cissie could hear her pacing while keeping watch.

Now Cissie was fighting to not get annoyed. “Robin said no magic traces.” She reminded her pointedly.

“I know! I’m just saying.” She snapped back.

Cissie didn’t need to reply because just then the wire she’d been struggling with sprung free.

“Got it!” She cried in victory, shimmying herself out of the crawlspace. She and Anita had teleported away before the bats could notice them, under Rob’s orders to disable the security to the cave systems manually. So someone named Oracle wouldn’t notice when Rob accessed the files from a foreign server. ‘Can’t hack something that doesn’t need hacking.’ Is what he’d said.

The others were given the task of dealing with the bats. Even now, as Cissie flung her quiver back over her shoulder she could hear the sounds of distant battle.

The plan was to get out as fast as possible. Ideally, no one would even know they were here in this universe.

She drew a flash drive arrow from her quiver and plugged it into the socket of the security feed; Anita watched with muted curiosity. After all, her enchanted relics and Cissie’s gadgets were one in the same.

She waited with her hands braced against the wall, watching the screen fill with random coding jargon she couldn’t understand. The arrow flashed once, indicating it was finished and she plucked it from the socket and twirled around.

To come face to face with a girl dressed in all black, holding Anita in a chokehold so tight she was turning purple.

Cissie didn’t waste a second, drawing an arrow and immediately aiming for the girls head.

Nobody moved, the girl didn’t even flinch. Not when Anita’s nails scraped lines of torn flesh across her forearm, not when Cissie drew the string of her bow tighter in warning.

Anita’s eyes were turning red and bulging out of her face, leaking tears that streamed down her cheeks. Cissie had to act, and she would, she’d killed before.

Anita’s body twitched in minute attempts to throw the mystery girl off, she didn’t have many seconds of consciousness left.

The moment Cissie made the decision to release her arrow the girl moved, charging at Cissie so fast she would have missed it had she blinked. The girl yanked her arm down disrupting her aim and the arrow lodged itself into the floor uselessly.

Anita collapsed to her knees pressing her forehead to the floor, hacking up phlegm and horrible sounding coughs.

The girl still had Cissie’s wrist locked in her iron grip. She slammed, her into the wall, smacking her skull against the hard rock, temporarily blinding her. In that moment of weakness she wrenched Cissie’s arm down and snapped the bone in two.

Cissie screamed, throwing up her knee and sending it into the girls gut but it barely phased her. She struck at Cissie’s ankles with her socked foot and she could’ve sworn she heard something crack. Her leg gave way, but she was still pinned to the wall by the girl. Her arm felt like fire. Every time she shifted, the pain knocked the breath out of her. She struggled, grappled but couldn't find any leverage.

She was released from her spot when Anita, with newfound strength, hit the girl over the head with her emperor’s stick. The first time Cissie had seen anything phase her.

The girl dropped Cissie, who crumpled to the floor clutching her wrist and heaving ragged breaths. Her eyes burned holes into the girl tugging on her hair where the Anita struck her in a measly attempt to distract herself from the blinding pain of a temple strike.

Cissie watcher her blindly grope at the wall until her fingers hooked onto something. The girl pulled a built in lever, causing a wailing alarm to flood the building. The sound split Cissie’s head in two and she acted on instinct.

Cissie took her open window while the girl was distracted. She grabbed Anita, not even caring to nurse her injured arm and hauled her away. Anita was still red in the face and forcing awful wheezy breaths as Cissie lugged her away from the direction of the mystery girl.

“Teleport.” Cissie grit out furiously. “Now!”

Anita didn’t even have the strength to not looked shocked at Cissie’s tone. She nodded hastily and clutched her emperors stick. At once Cissie felt the telling pull of teleportation, and for once was grateful for the nauseous distraction from the pain.

She was grateful for another reason, as she numbly watched the mystery girl in black charge directly into where they would have been stood, had they not in that moment dissolved into the air.

-

Tim tested the limits of the TTK restraints he and his family were suspended in.

He tried wriggling his fingers free, or turning his neck but the grip felt like a 20ft python had swallowed him and was crushing him from the inside. He struggled to breath, only managing shallow splutters with the leeway Kon’s hold allowed.

To his right he could hear Jason’s uneven, stuttering breaths, and Tim’s heart twisted painfully. His extremely claustrophobic brother was one inch of space away from a panic attack, Tim had to think of a way to get them all out quickly.

He had no misgivings that the others were thinking the same, but Tim had an advantage. He knew these powers. Intimately. He’d trained with them and fought with them, if anyone would find a slip it would be him.

The alternate young justice members had barely moved in the time they’d been stuck. Each of them obeyed Tim with unwavering loyalty, it was clear in the way they reacted to the slightest of movements. The way Bart tensed before Tim spoke like he was preparing to speed away, the way Conner seemed to know what he was thinking before any words needed saying.

These bonds aren’t forged though any normal training, even by Tim’s standards. It made Tim wonder…

“Assuming I believe that you’re telling the truth about the device being unfinished.” The other Tim threatened darkly, examining his staff as if imagining what he could do with it. “Why give away your only card?”

He sounded genuinely curious, but Tim knew it was just an intimidation act. Oh well, he was happy to play into the mind games, as long as it bought him time.

“So you know your mission will fail before you even start.” Tim huffed back, feeling the strain on his ribs with each word.

Red Robin laughed, Tim was really starting to hate the sound of his own laugh. Did he always sound that bitter?

“On the contrary.” He began. “You’ve just guaranteed our success. If you’d just rolled over and let me kill you, the knowledge would be lost, and we’d,” He gestured to his team who shifted in affirmation, “All be stuck.”

He punctuated the final word by lunging at Tim and jamming his finger into his chest. Tim almost flinched at the sudden closeness, this version of him was unhinged, more so than normal for a Tim variant. All too slowly the furious aggression melted into that sickly evil smile Tim’s was growing to loath.

“But thanks to you.” He chirped, smiling brightly. “We have all the information we need! Because we know exactly where to get it.”

The end sentence was growled in a way meant to be taken as a threat. Tim was ashamed to admit he felt a little cornered.

Before anyone could say anything else, a new siren sound shook the cave. Red Robin frowned, eyeing the far corners of the cave for anything suspicious.

“Stand guard.” He ordered Kon and Bart before signalling Cassie and Greta to follow. Kon nodded once in affirmative and Bart shot him a thumbs up.

Everyone was distracted. Tim saw his chance.

“We’ve been breached.” Bruce grunted over the sound of the siren; half laboured from the strength of Kon’s TTK.

“No fucking shit!” Jason hollered back, louder than necessary and right in Bruce’s ear.

“No.” Bruce grit his teeth. “The batcomputer. The files are compromised; someone’s accessed the system from the inside.”

“Shit…” Dick swore. “B, there’s-”

Before Dick could get another word out Tim made his move. He rolled out of Conner’s hold with all the agility of a seal in water. Freeing his back-up staff from his jean pocket and snapping it open in the same movement.

He clicked a button. A button Conner himself once begged for in the event of something exactly like this.

The lead cap popped open, exposing the nickel sized shard of green kryptonite built into the tip of the staff and jammed it against the exposed skin on Conner’s neck.

Conner’s scream cut through the sound of the siren, garbled and shredded, like pure agony. He dropped like a pupped with severed strings and behind, him Tim could hear the other bats drop too.

“W- what…?” Conner trembled, and Tim had to remind himself that it wasn’t his Conner. Instead he placed on a cool mask of indifference.

“Weve been friends for years Conner. I know how to get out of your TTK.” He mumbled like it was obvious. Like Conner was the fool and not Tim for doing this to him. His eyes rolled back, skin paling to an even whiter sickly shade of green. Black veins twisted like cracks in paint up his neck, and down under the collar of his shirt – fast as water in a flash flood/ But Tim’s grip on the kryptonite held fast.

Conner was seconds away from passing out.

“No!” Came a cry that sounded all too familiar. Red Robin raced towards them, no anger in his eyes, just fear. But before he reached them Tim felt a cold pain pierce into his back.

The tell tale whoosh of a speedster followed a moment after. Tim turned his neck, tremoring involuntarily, because his body wouldn’t comply and saw Bart stood behind him. In his gloved hand, a bloody knife. Bart’s face looked as shocked as Tim felt.

He thought he heard someone yell, but he was too busy craning his neck and watching the growing stain of red on the back of his shirt to hear it.

Suddenly his legs wouldn’t work. He sank to his knees, slumping forward onto his palms. Tim tried to take a breath, but his lungs wouldn’t comply. Besides that, a sharp sting prevented him from breathing too deep.

The staff clattered to the floor and Kon gasped in relief like a drowning man finding air. He got his grip back immediately and locked the bats in place where they where making a move for Tim. Despite the sweat beading on his forehead and the shakiness of his extended arm Kon’s hold was strong and his face pained but determined, almost angry.

Tim whimpered when his hand slipped and jolted the wound. He tried getting his bearings, though his palms continued sliding under something slick on the floor and he ended up collapsing onto his front, knees tucked under him. He tried again but his biceps wouldn’t push him up, so he lay there. Feeling colder by the second.

He blinked his eyes open, trying to focus through the film of haziness and blood loss. In the blurriness of it all he could see Conner kneeling, clearly in pain, surrounded by his team but struggling to hold on to his TTK. Red in the centre, holding his shoulders.

Similar to Tim right now, except he was discarded on the floor a few feet away with no one to comfort him. He could see Red yelling something furious sounding at the bats but couldn't make out the words. He turned, and shouted something equally urgent in the same tone to Cassie and Bart.

Tim didn’t want to imagine them vanishing in a blur of colour. But it didn’t matter, the world was getting too dark to see anyway.

Chapter Text

Cassie dropped Tim down on the floor of their agreed apon base. Arrowette and Empress were already regrouping on the beat up couch that was awkwardly jammed against the wall of the cramped base. It wasn’t a safehouse, not technically, it was too high tech for that.

Tim assumed that in this universe, Young Justice had all the same bolt holes they could run too for cover after arriving. Provided that this universe’s Red Robin was as thorough as he was. The bunker of an old motel of some near empty town, south-west, just outside of Gotham. Tim was aware they could’ve easily gone halfway across the world and it wouldn’t have made a difference, but what was that saying? Keep your friends close?

Cissie’s face was beat red, stuck in a pissed off scowl, lips drawn into a fine line through her frustration. Her eyes stared into nothing but a spot on the floor, deep in focus as Anita, who was sporting new deep purple bruises on her neck and a busted blood vessel in her left eye, wrapped her arm in a cast.

Tim paid them no mind as he sauntered forward, snagging up Cissie’s USB arrow, the one with access to the caves security systems, and leaned over the desk under the wall mounted monitor.

Behind him he could hear Kon heezing and Bart zipping back and forth. Tim’s hate for the bats swelled while he typed in the commands to access the cameras.

He pulled up the feed, frozen on the screen. Cassie argued something in the background, Tim’s eyes stayed glued to the monitor. Even when he felt Kon approach behind him.

“Are you ready?” He asked. Kon nodded, sniffing, despite the cold sweats and black veins still latched to his skin. Tim pulled up the footage, granting them a view of the cave in real time.

The other bats were still stuck, Kon made sure of that even from a distance. He wouldn’t relent until Tim gave the go ahead. Speaking of, the lesser Tim, the one who’d poisoned Kon and took a knife to the back for it, was still trembling on the floor, bleeding out.

The bats were distressed about the system breach; he could tell the moment the siren went off. Everything existed on those files, things even the Justice League didn’t have. No one but Tim was smart enough to go for the real prize, that’s part of the reason no one but them had ever succeeded in what they were planning.

“Watch.” Tim said to the crowd of his team that had gather behind him. “Watch them run to the computer and scramble to try an-” He cut himself off as Kon let them go.

Instead of beelining for the batcomputer or the cave screen walls like he anticipated. The bats rushed towards Tim, Jason even stumbling over his feet in shock and haste.

Tim watched in silence, as Batman skidded to his knees besides the other Tim’s side. Scooping his limp ward into his arms. Checking his breathing and pulse. Nightwing followed, preforming his own checks. His view was obstructed for a moment when the others joined him, surrounding Tim like a pack.

On screen Batman yelled something urgent. Jason and Damian rushed off screen urgently, in the direction of the medical bay, Jason almost tripped for the second time in his haste. Dick and Batman stayed, quicky turning the other Tim over with so much care that Tim didn’t know how to describe it. He studied with foreign eyes, leaning closer to the screen in curiously. They examined the wound on his back, small but deep, rapid blood loss, no wonder he lost consciousness so quickly.

Dick’s hands were practiced, working so quick to patch the injury Tim didn’t let himself blink. Bruce held his limp body steady for Dick to work on, but somehow making certain every other second that Tim was still breathing – where his head was cradled face down on the inside of his elbow. It was all so confusing to watch. This… This wasn’t the Bruce and Dick he remembered.

Cassie cleared her throat, and Tim nearly jumped. He’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. They’d all just seen as he watched another version of him be tended too by other versions of people he’d once slaughtered without remorse. He scoffed and closed the feed, feigning amusement, mostly to himself.

“We need him alive.” He answered. as if that explained anything to the concerned looks he was getting. “I have a plan.”

Without further explanation he stormed off towards the rooms, ignoring the burning feeling of eyes on his back.

If anything? That footage just gave him exactly what he needed.

-

Tim sat on the edge of his creaky bed setup in the bunker, it had been a while since he’d left the main room with the screen setup but he wasn’t feeling any more sociable.

His shirt hung in his hands; the material was soft against the roughness of his skin. He rubbed it between his fingertips absentmindedly, focusing on the friction. Halfway through changing he’d abandoned the task in thought. Now here he was, shirtless, and replaying the scenes from today in his head over and over again.

Setting eyes on Batman for the first time since…

The rage he felt against Nightwing, worse, the fear.

Seeing his own face for the first time on another body, fighting with the bats. The pinched brows, the calculating glare, near judgemental, condemning.

Picturing killing him first for betraying their cause, for being weaker than him.

The kryptonite… seeing Kon fall… being too far to stop it.

The panic. The blood. Leaving.

The footage…

Now that was the part Tim was really stuck on. Images flashed through his mind. Blood. Terrified faces. Urgent footsteps. Gentle hands. Words of reassurance. More blood. Fear.

None of it was familiar.

The shirt that he’d trapped in the worrying pinch of his fingers grew worn. He troubled his lip between his teeth and worked through it, making sense of it all.

Sure the bats wanted Tim alive. But the concern, the fear? Tim dismissed the thought.

Maybe he was the only one who could fix the security system, Tim wouldn’t put it past himself. The faster he recovered the sooner it would be fixed. That made sense.

Or maybe…

Maybe this universe was less like his own than he thought… Maybe-

There was a knock at the door. Tim scrambled to put his shirt on.

“Tim it’s me.” Came Conner’s gentle but telling voice. Tim lowered the shirt with a sigh and stood to open the door.

“What’s up?” He greeted casually.

Conner gave him a knowing look. “Are you alright?”

Tim responded with something of an aborted laugh and eyed the door frame. “I should be asking you that.” Then paused cautiously and asked, “How are you?”

Conner smiled. “I’m fine.”

Tim’s eyes wandered over the scabbing burn mark from the kryptonite and raised an eyebrow.

“I- was more shocked than anything.” Conner reasoned sheepishly.

Tim frowned. “I’ll kill that shit.” He grumbled, reaching up to brush his thumb over the wound.

Kon craned his neck to let him. “If Bart didn’t already take care of that for us.”

He took Tim’s wrist in his hand, gentle, not restraining. “Look, whatever it is you’re thinking about-”

“Don’t.” Tim stopped him and the mood soured. He took his arms away making and Kon let him. “If anything it’s just given me more of a reason to kill them all.”

Conner looked like he didn’t believe him. But what did he know. Tim was bitter now.

Though even as he watched Kon leave down the hallway. The image of Bruce holding Tim couldn’t help nagging at his mind.

It’s not him. He reminded himself coldly, shutting down anymore doubts. He steeled his mind. They would be dead within the week anyway; Tim would make sure of it.

Chapter Text

Consciousness came back to Tim in stages. The first thing he felt was cold.

His toes, fingers, nose and ears all felt an icy numbness, like he’d forgotten to wear shoes while facing Freeze. The next thing he felt was the tight pressure of a bandage fastened around his waist, not an unfamiliar feeling, but also not a common one. The final thing he felt was dread.

Tim’s eyes shot open and he gasped, feeling like he’d woken up after his alarm was set to go off. He flailed around for his phone still half disoriented when small but freakishly strong hands forced him back down.

“Stay still, unless you want to be knocked unconscious again?” Damian asked incredulously. Tim stopped struggling but otherwise paid him no mind.

“What happened?” Tim gasped, the adrenaline rush was enough to warm him up but now he was all too aware of the throbbing pain on the left of his back. He shifted uncomfortably as Damian seated himself on the edge of Tim’s bed straightening out the sheets.

“After you heroically got yourself stabbed the imposters left in a hurry.” He murmured disapprovingly; Tim thought he’d been spending too much time with Alfred.

“And?” Tim probed.

Damian huffed. “Father alerted the Justice League of the situation. Your old teammates are taking residence on the watchtower for the time being. We are operating under the assumption that they will be targeted.”

Tim sighed in relief, slumping his head back against the pillow.

“The codes have been changed coinciding to the event we should ever have a mole or compromised personal. And the league have initiated their highest security procedures.” Damian continued. “Although for now, Batman has instructed them to stand down until the imposters make a public move.”

This is why Tim preferred Damian’s bedside manner to anyone else. Straight to the point, no beating around the bush.

“So they haven’t made another move yet?” Tim asked absently as he reached for the glass of water by his bed.

“Not as of yet. It has only been a few hours since their arrival. You needed an emergency transfusion which is why you’ve woken so soon.”

Right, Jason was his only doner match. Lazarus water in his veins helped heal injuries faster, Tim was sure there was some kind of science behind it. Maybe the molecules’ bonding with the blood cells helped increase the rate of mitosis. Either way, Tim digressed.

“How long av’ you been here?” He slurred, the shock of waking so suddenly was wearing off. He grimaced absently at the taste of the water, Bruce’s hydrating electrolytes.

“Father wanted someone with you at all times.” Damian answered simply.

“Worried?”

“You’re considered one of the targets.”

“You haven’t answered my question.” Tim teased.

Damian was silent for a moment before answering.

“It was… upsetting. Seeing someone be injured and being powerless to stop it.” Tim thought back to the look on his families faces when they realised they couldn’t escape the TTK, and felt a twinge of guilt for being so reckless, for not communicating.

“For a second there, we thought they were gonna make us watch you bleed out.” Came a voice from the doorway.

Jason stood there, arms folded, looking amused. “You look like shit.” He quipped brightly in greeting.

“Least I have an excuse, what’s yours?” Tim shot back, gingerly placing the glass back on the side table.

Jason’s grin widened. “Bruce wants us in the cave.” He nodded down the hallway casually. “Can you stand?”

Tim gurned. “Thanks to you.” But the stitches still pulled and pinched his skin, and the deep knife wound throbbed and stung as he slid out of bed.

Damian hovered nearby like a buzzard, searching for signs of discomfort. Which there were a lot of, but kept his distance. Permitting Tim to limp forward on his own.

There was no awkward air of pity or sympathy, which Tim was grateful for. Just comfortable familiarity. They’d all been in this position more times than they cared to admit, they knew how to treat an injured bat. It was in the way Jason waited for Tim to follow before taking off down the hall. Or the way Damian matched his pace.

The cave lighting was dim and cool. It was easier on Tim’s eyes than the manor’s bright warm aura. Jason lead them down the steps, his jaunty energy almost mocked Tim’s weak hobble and he knew he was doing it on purpose. The dick.

The real Dick, Cass and Bruce were gathered in front of the monitor. Stood stoically, each of them watching something on the screen. Bruce and Cass didn’t spare them a look when the other three joined them. Tim couldn’t blame them; he felt the same heavy weight of graveness settle over him too.

Dick glanced over when they got closer, smiling warmly when he noticed Tim was awake. He pushed a wheely chair in Tim’s direction, which he took without complaint. More than happy to take the pressure of standing off his wound.

He slumped down next to where Cass was perched on the worktop, forcing his breathing to even out. Tim’s eyes locked onto the screen, footage of Cass fighting two other girls in uniform was playing, uniforms he recognised. In interest he sat up a little straighter, leaning forward for a better look.

“So Arrowette and Empress were here.” He hummed in acknowledgement. Bruce snuffed an affirmative.

“They vanished, but not before getting what they need to access the cave from the inside.” He informed, his voice deep in a way that conveyed the gravity of the circumstances.

“Remind me again why we cant just change the password.” Jason droned from behind Tim. He was probably being sarcastic, definitely being unhelpful.

“What part of ‘from the inside’ don’t you understand.” Tim snapped with no real bite, earing him a cuff on the side of the head.

“They teleported away before Cassandra could apprehend them.” Bruce continued. He froze the feedback on a frame of a puff magenta smoke.

Cass cleared her throat expectantly.

“Not that she didn’t do well, taking on a meta and a martial arts specialist simultaneously.” Bruce added quickly. “However, they still left the grounds, and without regrouping with the others. Which leads me to believe they had a predetermined base to rendezvous at apon arrival.”

“Tim,” Tim jerked up at his name, “I wouldn’t ask this of you so soon after an injury but the circumstances are dire. We need to find them before they can act, the last thing we need is reports of Superboy or Wondergirl causing havoc in public. I need you to put together a list of places they might have gone, I’ll dispatch teams to scope out the areas and try to detain them.”

Tim nodded already mentally cataloguing old bases and hideouts from his Young Justice days.

Dick pushed himself up from the desk he was leaning against and walked to the front of the desk. “What makes these guys so dangerous is that we don’t know their motive.” He warned, taking a place next to Bruce. “We know what they want, but we don’t know why, or even how they plan on doing it.”

“Right now we hold the cards, we have something they need.” Tim interrupted from his chair. “They know the schematics of the multiversal hopping device are unfinished.”

“I thought they got all the files on the batcomputer.” Jason countered.

“Even then it’s still unfinished blueprints.” Tim explained, swivelling his chair around to face the others. “The coding and engineering needed for multiversal travel is so incredibly complex they wont be able to make up for the missing pieces, even with what they have already.” He emphasized his words with gestures, watching each of their faces as they took in the information.

“Right now, I’m the only one who can finish that code.” He finalised, slapping his hands to his knees.

Bruce hummed. “Which means you’re in danger.” He stated, turning back to the computer.

“Isn’t there a mind reader on the team?” Damian pointed out

“Anita’s powers have their limits, it’s possible to resist them.” Tim informed quickly. “I can do it; it was part of our training.”

“This discussion isn’t necessary,” Bruce growled. “Besides, you’re to injured for field work.”

“Bruce I can help.” Tim insisted. “Come’on I know these guys inside and out. I know how they think, their powers, their weaknesses. I can-”

“Enough!” Bruce turned to Tim so suddenly Tim couldn’t help snapping his mouth shut, the atmosphere in the cave stilled for a moment. Tim didn’t want to breath. “I need that list, nothing else. You’re excused.” Without another word, he walked off. Leaving Tim and the others to watch in silence.

-

Tim lay on the bed on top of the sheets in his old room at the manor, knees drawn up to his chest. He cradled his laptop against his thighs, the screen just inches from his face while he jammed to some Oasis song that crackled through his headphones.

The list Bruce wanted was basically finished. All that was left were the true bottom of the barrel last resorts. Still, he worked on categorising them, absently bobbing his head to the music when he heard a knock on his bedroom door.

“Come in?” He called in question, pushing one side of his headphones away from his ear. Bruce entered looking something like wounded old dog. Tim stretched his leg out uncomfortably, mindful of his back, and removed his headphones fully.

Bruce took a seat on the far end of his bed.

“I shouldn’t have lost my patience earlier.” He began. Bruce waited a moment for his words to sink in.

“Oh… It’s fine.” Tim tried to dismiss it, placing his laptop to the side.

“It’s not.” Bruce intervened before Tim could continue, “and let me explain why it’s not.” He added gentler.

Tim shifted, unsure, waiting.

Bruce took a breath, “Imagine preparing to face an enemy, so ruthless and cruel that it…” He paused to find the words. “It almost hurts.”

Tim stayed quiet, but pictured it in his head.

“Imagine this enemy is destined to not just kill, but slaughter you, butcher you. Your family, your friends. Make a spectacle of it.” Bruce continued.

Tim nodded to show he was listening.

Bruce paused, lost in thought. Tim was about to speak up until Bruce finally spoke, so quietly Tim had to strain to hear it.

“Now imagine that enemy has the face of your son.”

He felt the breath knock out of lungs. Tim tried to find something to say but no words would come to him.

Bruce carried on, unphased by Tim’s silence. “I’m supposed to face this threat, keep my family safe from a threat that shares the same face as my child.”

Tim took a breath preparing to speak but Bruce silenced him by holding up his hand.

“It’s not an excuse; but I am more… shaken than I would like to admit.”

“For my own sake I was trying to keep you separate from this fight and that wasn’t fair. This fight belongs to you more than anyone else, and I need my best detective on the case if we’re going find and stop them.” He place a firm hand on Tim’s shoulder, squeezing tightly. Tim looked at Bruce with stary eyes, mouth agape in stunned silence. Bruce took this as his sign to carry on.

“He’s not you. I will keep reminding myself that as many times as necessary until I can face him without seeing my son behind that mask. I’m good at keeping my emotions away from the cowl but when it comes to you boys and your sister I-” Bruce cut himself off, closing his lips tightly to trap any unwanted sounds.

Tim launched himself into his fathers arms. Despite being nearly twenty he still fit like he was twelve. Bruce pulled him close, curling Tim up on his lap and sniffed into his shoulder.

“I am trying to face this like I would any other rogue but… that’s my boy’s face.” He mourned. “That’s my boy.”

“I’m here dad.” Tim whispered into his shirt. “I’m here, you’ve got me.”

Bruce nodded in agreement, and pressed a firm kiss to Tim’s temple. After a second or so he relented and Tim pulled back, Bruce kept his arms around his shoulders and they looked into each others eyes.

“This is unlike anything we’ve faced before. In their last universe…” Bruce warned soberly.

“Whatever happened in their universe doesn’t matter, it’s not ours.” Tim assured. Bruce nodded and pressed another kiss to his forehead.

“That’s why you’re the smart one.” He murmured against Tim’s skin.

Tim almost laughed. “Don’t let Damian hear you say that.” He quipped through his smile. He pulled back, “It’s true though. Whatever their reasoning is, it doesn’t matter here. We’ll fight them, we’ll protect this world, and each other. Like we always do.”

Bruce said nothing. Just took a moment and admired his boy, his bravery, his resilience, his heart. He brushed a stay hair away from Tim’s face, lingering for a moment to hold his cheek. Tim let him, leaning into it.

“You should rest, it’s dark now. Jason’s already out.”

Tim hummed. “I’ll send you that list yeah?”

Bruce smiled and ruffled his hair as he stood. “Sleep well.” He ordered, clicking off the lamp. Tim responded with a mock salute. Watching Bruce’s shadow leave the room.

That night he turned into bed with a warmer feeling in his chest than he’d felt in weeks. Somehow, he’d convinced himself everything was going to be alright.

If only he knew the plans in store for him…

Chapter Text

Tim knew it wouldn’t be long until they made their next move. It’s what he would do in their situation after all. Hit them before they could get back up. Make a plan. He could feel that it was only going to be a matter of time.

That was reason that Tim insisted Dick didn’t go home to Blüd, why Jason shouldn’t leave for crime ally. Sure, maybe he was worried that the very evil version of himself might use Tim’s familial bonds against him. After all, it’s what he would do. But he didn’t voice that into awareness, all he said was they needed to stay ready. He was right, of course. The next move came the following day.

Tim sat with his legs up at the head of the craves briefing table. The other bats stood around listening to him recall everything he could about what might give them an advantage in the field.

Tim listed anything he remembered during training and battles. How Superboy always stopped moving before he used his heat vision, so you can tell when to dodge even before you hear it coming. How Arrowette uses her bow as a melee weapon, don’t let your guard down when engaging her close range. Impulse has a weak point on his knee where Deathstroke shot him though the leg, assuming that also happened in their universe.

Jason crushed a can of root beer in one hand and opened another. Tossing the crushed can at Bruce’s head who commendably didn’t react and let it clatter to the floor.

This was a hail Mary at best. Tim knew they couldn’t assume that anything about these doppelgangers was the same as this universe, but they were working with next to no new information.

Well, except for one thing that prickled in the back of Tim’s mind. From their limited exposure to the alternate Young Justice members, Tim had picked up on some anomalies. Traits he didn’t recognise in his own teammates. Such as Bart’s unstable molecules, like he was straining not to vibrate though the floor. Or how fast Kon’s body reacted to the kryptonite exposure.

These traits were exclusive to the dark versions of them. If Tim could find out more, he could potentially find a way to exploit them.

Tim was mulling the theory over in his head when the blip of a com link pinged from the batcomputer.

“Batman.” Chimed Oracle’s melodic voice through the speakers. Bruce stood at once, already suited. “Got eyes on your guys. Well, two of them at least.”

“Copy that Oracle.” He answered plainly, strutting over to the screens where Babs had pulled up a map and some live news articles.

Tim’s stomach twisted in anticipation; something was going down.

“Reports of Superboy and Wondergirl, both in south Burnley.” Oracle rattled off some street name but Tim knew they wouldn’t stay still for long. “They were fist spotted flying in from Old Gotham, heading north.”

“Nightwing and Red Hood will go after Wondergirl.” Batman briefed. “Robin and I will take Superboy, while Batgirl assists whichever team needs the most help.”

Dick and Jason were already leaving to suit up. Jason jumped up and chugged what was left of his root beer, then wiped away the spillage like a toddler, shooting Dick the bird when he laughed.

“Have Spoiler and Signal help any civilians injured or trapped in the aftermath. Inform them to not engage while either Superboy or Wondergirl are on scene.”

Bruce turned towards Tim, who had been stood ready the whole time. His back throbbed but he refused to favour his side in the face of this mission.

“Tim, I need you to advise on coms. You have the most experience dealing with these powers and fighting styles, Oracle will have her hands full navigating.”

Tim nodded, already moving to take over his place at the computer. He dropped into the chair and pulled out a headset, sliding it snugly over his ears.

“Come in Oracle this is Red Robin on coms assist, redcon one.” He greeted, signing online with practiced military precision.

“Copy that Red, good to hear from you.” Babs responded. Through the line Tim could hear the rapid clacking of her keyboard. He matched pace, pulling up any news articles he could find, trying to map where Kon and Cassie could be heading.

“Batman, redcon one. I have Robin and Batgirl with me.” Bruce’s deep voice rumbled into Tim’s ear as the link connected.

“We read you Batman. Superboy was last spotted in Gotham hights, should be easy to locate just follow the scorch marks.” Oracle typed some more and a pinned location popped up on Tim’s screen.

“Spoiler and Signal here. Where do you need us.” Steph’s jaunty bark rang through the coms. It was refreshing to hear from her, like she was the first rain after a drought and Tim was a withering flower. He supressed a smile.

“Spoiler.” Tim read through the headlines of the police reports. “Theres a collapsed monorail on 87th street. Help with med evac and clear a path for emergency responders.”

“Heard.” Steph responded, grunting as she grappled towards the coordinates. “Good to hear you alive and well Red. Saw you got shanked.”

“Occupational hazard.” Tim replied easily.

“That all huh?” Tim could practically hear the shit eating grin on her face.

“Nightwing and Red Hood, redcon one.” Dick saved Steph from whatever reply Tim was about to launch.

“Nightwing, sending you coordinates now.” Informed Oracle.

Tim pulled up the mask footage of Nightwing, Red Hood, Batman, Robin and Batgirl. Placing trust Steph and Duke to holler if they ran into trouble. Dick was sprinting across the rooftops of south Burnley, vaulting between the alleyway gaps. If Tim focused, he could see flashes of red, blue and black in the distance. Cassie’s uniform.

“We need to get their attention somehow.” Dick panted.

Jason landed in a safety roll at his side. “She’s bullet proof yeah?” He asked, unholstering a gleaming gun.

“Not invulnerable.” Tim warned. “Just highly durable.”

“Works for me.” He shrugged in reply.

“You’ll have to actually hit her first.” Dick teased, slapping his hand on Jay’s shoulder.

“Boys, she’s getting away.” Babs chimed.

Dick swore and grappled off. Jason on his tail.

“Do we know what they’re doing?” Jason called over the wind.

“Disruptive behaviour. Overall causing chaos, doesn’t seem like an end goal in mind.” Bab’s recited mechanically.

That raised some alarm bells in Tim’s head. Something felt off, but before he could expand on it Batman interrupted.

“Signal and Spoiler I need you over here. Superboy collapsed a court room, Robin and I are on his tail but there’s people inside who need help.”

“We read you Bats.” Came Spoiler’s strained reply. “Just finishing up over here so the ambulances can get through.”

On screen, the news played some shaky phone footage of Spoiler lifting a large pillar so Signal could melt the glass trapping a carriage full of civilians.

“Pretty symbolic for a member of Young Justice to smash up a justice hall.” Jason quipped. Tim ignore the twinge of defensiveness he felt in the name of his team. They weren’t Young Justice, not here.

“It’s strange,” Dick wondered aloud, tapping Tim back into the moment. “On paper they’re doing a lot of damage, but given the extent of their powers it’s pretty tame.”

“It’s true.” Jason grunted. “This isn’t even a tenth of the destruction I saw in their home universe.”

“Make you question, what’s their endgame?” Dick mused and suddenly it clicked for Tim.

“Oh shit.” He muttered under his breath.

“Red?” Dick questioned.

“I’m such an idiot.” He breathed urgently. “I need backup here, now!”

Kon and Cassie were the heavy hitters. That’s their style. It’s what they’re known for. If Tim ever needed to make a spectacle, they were the ones he’d deploy. It’s hard to ignore a Kryptonian and Amazon Warrior bashing in heads.

That was the point, though. They’d draw the attention, the cameras, the guards – while the real plan went of without a hitch, undetected elsewhere.

He was so stupid to not see the sign’s from the get-go.

It was being done right before him. Send Superboy and Wondergirl out to make a big display, shoot some flashy lasers, throw a couple of cars. Without causing any real damage. Hold the attention of the targets long enough to let the others slip behind their backs.

And slip behind their backs they did.

“Red! Come in Red!” The panicked voices of his team overlapped. He knew the feeling, being in the field, not knowing what’s wrong, virtually blinded and grounded.

“It’s a distraction!” He yelled, standing abruptly. The force sent the chair tumbling backwards, clanging against the floor. “It’s a-”

For the second time in two days Tim was sent flying backwards after something small and high-speed slammed into him. This time though, his vision went dark and a sharp pain exploded in his back. He felt the give of his stitches burst and the wet oily swell of blood blossoming from the reopened wound.

Tim forced himself up, planting a deadly look on his face as his eyes locked onto Bart. In all his impulsive glory, poised and braced where Tim had been knocked ten or so feet away. Static electricity crackled around his body, charged and ready. Tim had no delusions about who would win this fight.

“We have to stop meeting like this.” He quipped loud enough to be heard over the electricity and buzz of Bart’s body, because Robin never really left you, even after you stop wearing the colours.

Bart said nothing, the only acknowledgement he gave Tim was when his body quivered out of focus like a hologram.

Tim felt the cool patch of blood seep through his shirt and cling to his skin. He sighed heavily, propping himself up more comfortably. If he was going down, he’d go down dignified.

“Bring it on.” He grumbled darkly, just as Bart turned to a blur and charged right at him.

The last thing he did before everything went dark was be proud that he didn’t flinch.

Chapter Text

Tim should be better at waking up in mind numbing pain, given the amount of experience he’s had. That didn’t make a difference right now.

Awareness came back to him slowly. He blinked his eyes open, forcing them up with his eyebrows when they tried to fall shut, and groggily scrunched his face awake.

He registered the sting and the metallic taste of a split lip, the dull throb of a bone-deep bruise swelling on his cheek. When he tried stretching his arms to relieve the stabbing cramps in his shoulders he couldn’t.

Tim’s head rolled to the side as he grew more aware, trying to shake away the fog that clouded his mind.

He was hanging from his wrists, already off to a bad start. Suspended low enough that his knees almost grazed the ground. When he tried to get his feet under him, scrambling to take the strain off his shoulders his legs gave out sending him falling down again. The chains caught him, pinching his wrists and jolting his arms.

A jab of pain stabbed deep into the muscles of his back. Tim winced, he hung limply, trying to breath through the pain until the feeling subsided.

It was only once the pain cleared enough for him to open his eyes again that he released he wasn’t alone.

His own face stared back at him, shrouded by shadows. He lounged on a chair in the corner of the room. The other him made no effort to move, seeming content just to watch Tim struggle.

“Enjoying the view!” Tim groaned angrily, as loud as his injuries would let him. He coughed sharply as the words snagged on the inside of his throat. How long had it been? He wondered vacantly.

Infuriatingly the other him said nothing, he didn’t speak, he didn’t move, he just watched lazily. It sent Tim’s nerves to hell and back.

“The fuck am I here for if you’re not gonna say anything?” Tim gasped raggedly. He only got more annoyed when the other Tim’s eyes narrowed in amusement.

“You have something we want.” He began smoothly as he pushed himself up. The way he languidly glided towards him made Tim want to crawl back against a wall. However many chills ran down his spine he pushed himself to stare this fraud down with enough distain to make Damian proud. “But you already know that so let’s skip the foreplay yeah?”

He pulled on Tim’s chains forcing Tim to sway towards his satisfied smirk. In response Tim spit a wad of blood from his bitten cheek right between his eyes.

Without any hesitation a blunt force slammed into his side with enough power to loosen to bolts of the chains from their anchor in the ceiling. Tim cried as he was sent swinging wildly to the side, his shoulders caught the weight of his body as he fell back down hanging like a drunken ragdoll.

Stunned by the sudden impact he turned and saw Conner standing off to the side, waiting like a guard dog. Tim was almost offended; he scoffed in disbelief.

“Thank you Conner.” The other Tim dismissed plainly, wiping away at his face. Conner said nothing but his smile grew, like he found some satisfaction in acting like a brute for his Tim.

“Anyway.” The fraud moved on turning his back to Tim. “As I was saying. Not to be cliché but we really need those finished blueprints before we can start having fun.” Tim glared him down when he turned to look hungrily into Tim’s eyes. “So we can do this the easy way, or the hard way.”

From here Tim could see the waxy scars on his face. He braced himself, grit his teeth and hissed his reply, “Go to hell.”

To his dismay the other Tim didn’t look disappointed.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He grinned. Tim had only a moment to feel scared before a familiar presence enter his mind.

Tim gasped like ice water had been poured down his back.

“Empress.” He shivered.

She materialized behind in front of him like a spectre. He felt her reaching deep into his mind, shifting through memories that echoed briefly as they brushed past the front of his head in her search. He tried to grasp onto her phantom presence; to force her out of his head but his own mind was too fogy to take back control.

He pushed back, straining. He’d done this before in worse condition he could do it again. She struggled too, trying to force his mind to move but he focused on one memory, forcing it to the front of his mind so she couldn’t see past it.

It was a simple memory, nothing big or sentimental, just a post patrol meal. That time he and Jason both took their bikes through the bat-burger drive through, revelling in the star-struck faces of the employees. Regardless of the fact that Bruce had specifically ordered them not too.

They bought back food for everyone, even a kids toy for Damian. Who despite attempting to destroy in it the fireplace still displays the Red Robin figurine on his desk, right next to his paint brushes.

Tim dug his claws into the memory, fighting tooth and nail to keep it present. The look on the teenage workers face, the irritated insistence of Bruce that they turn around before giving up and relaying his order. Dick’s plain amusement of the entire situation. Jason’s hearty laugh.

Anita’s grip slipped and her presence vanished from his mind completely. Tim heaved a sigh of relief, panting in exertion. He glowered defiantly through the sweat dampened strands of hair obscuring his face.

“I’m sorry.” Anita gasped, struggling to her feet. “He’s too strong.”

“That’s okay.” The other Tim assured lazily. “We planned for this.”

He turned to the door grabbing his staff from the wall as he went. “Come on out!”

The door swung open and out walked Cassie, in her hands Wonder Woman’s lasso of truth. She coiled it tightly, bound taught by her wrists like a garrotte. Tim resisted the urge to gulp, Cassie’s predator like glow wasn’t helping.

She yanked it around his neck. Tim didn’t bother trying to resist, even when she tightened it like a noose. Taking an extra threatening amount of care to position it just right. It was terrifyingly similar to how Steph would straighten Cass’s necklaces for her, but this had nothing but maliciously hostile intent.

Once Cassie was satisfied with the rope around his neck she pulled on the tail gently, Tim had no choice but to move with it. He grunted but otherwise kept his mouth shut, Conner was still lurking in the shadows of the room.

“Tell me.” She ordered. Tim couldn’t help but notice the lack of compulsion that followed a mystic order from the lasso. “Do you possess the information to finish the machine.”

She pulled the rope tighter and Tim spluttered out, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He knew red blood painted his teeth when he pulled his lips back to smile but that didn’t stop him. The giddiness was tangible.

Cassie’s face flashed with confusion, rapidly replaced by fury. In a fit of frustration she jerked the rope down and it tightened. Tim choked as the knot squeezed his throat, cutting of his blood and air, making his head pulse violently.

She swung around him, choking him from behind and pulling his head back, exposing his throat and leaving him gasping and helpless. Tim hated feeling helpless. He hated the scratchiness of the rope scraping against his skin. He hated the smell of damp mold that fermented the room.

“Tell me.” She hissed again. Her mouth was right behind his ear and Tim could feel her breath on his neck. Tickling his hair. “How can we finish the machine.”

Again, Tim felt the absence of the lasso’s magic. He managed to laugh through the pressure of the rope squeezing his neck, “Yo- you guys are idiots.” He wheezed.

“It’s not working.” She muttered to her Tim. “Why is it not working!” Cassie suddenly raised her voice and tightened the rope to the furthest it would give. Tim choked and flailed, mouth open – gasping for air as black splodges grew in his vision and his hearing went fuzzy.

His brain was filling with static when Cassie finally released him and he fell forwards, jolting his shoulders on the chains again. Tim didn’t have the fight to be smug.

“It’s you.” He croaked, heaving. “Your intentions…”

“It’s worked before.” Cassie argued.

“Then *heave* who the hell were you interviewing before,” he gasped. “For you maniacs to be in the right?”

The other Tim smiled. “You have no idea.” He sounded smug, but Tim refused to let him get in his head.
“Sorry,” He panted. “guess you wont have your fun after all.” Every word he forced out ached, he wanted nothing more but to go still and stop fighting, but he couldn’t. Not when he had a point to make.

He was still weak, dangling limply from the ceiling, lungs burning. Although Tim would be lying if he said the words didn’t bring him some satisfaction to say.

“Don’t you worry.” The other Tim consoled evenly. “We’ve already had it.”

As if automatically, a small box set TV screen crackled to life on the wall behind him. It might’ve once been a security monitor, but right now? It was connected to what Tim assumed was a live broadcast from the GCN channel.

Horror filled his stomach, trickling from his heart to his gut like ice as he absorbed the words on screen.

“You’re insane.” He breathed weakly, his voice might’ve cracked but he didn’t care to notice.

“No more insane than you.” The other Tim defended cooly. He also watched the screen; a chill aura of pleasure radiated from him.

Tim’s vision swam; the world curved around him. He could only hear his pounding heartbeat over the ringing in his ears.

“There- there were people there!” He yelled, finding enough anger to launch himself towards his double. Predicably the chains didn’t budge, and the other Tim didn’t flinch.

“And they’re in a better place now.” Tim’s double justified, brushing Tim’s attempted attack off with one hand. “Not that the bar was very high.” He added as an afterthought.

Tim was silent, his eyes locked onto the screen and he couldn’t tear them away.

A shudder wracked his body as he was forced to watch what was left of the smouldering remains,

of Arkham Asylum…

Chapter Text

There was nothing left of it. Just a gaping cavity where Arkham Asylum used to stand. Tim couldn’t think clearly enough to do anything but hang and watch as arial shots of the charred rubble flash by.

The news reporter soberly listed names, though the old speakers of the bunker she sounded muffled, her voice fading in and out between static fuzz. Tim noted each of the names of the casualties confirmed. Head bowed solemnly.
Mad Hatter,
Hugo Strange,
King Tut,
Victor Zsasz,
Even Calendar Man.

But the most striking name, the one that made Tim lurch up to stare at the screen in shock. Certain he must’ve misheard.

The Joker.

The Joker was dead. Killed in his cell and straight jacket, burned under a pile of rubble. Talk about poetic justice.

Tim gaped at the screen, his mouth unable to form any words; the other Tim grinned wickedly at his reaction. He studied Tim’s face like a fly would a bloodstain, Tim wouldn’t be surprised if he licked his lips.

“You wanna know something funny.” He taunted. “If they manage to dig him up, his body is so toxic they’ll have to incinerate him in a nuclear plant.”

Tim had nothing to say in response, still too blindsided to speak. He wracked himself, trying wrap his head around everything. In the background the screen displayed shaky clips of rows and rows of bloodstained sheets, all lining the tarmac of the Asylum parking lot. So many bodies, most of them innocent. Tim cringed his face away from the scene in disgust.

He couldn’t help thinking of Jason, how would he be dealing with this. He hoped Dick and Damian would stick by him. Cass would probably keep her distance, no altercation between those two ended well. Bruce would want to be there but would hold back, let Jason come to him. He probably would, it’s moments like these they needed their dad the most, Tim would know.

Tim suddenly wish he was elsewhere for an entirely different reason than before.

Thinking of Jason… Bruce… Something snapped and Tim’s eyes widened.

“The others!” he begged, looking desperately at his double who watched on in amused interest. Any trace of Tim collectedness from before vanished, replaced by crushing panic. “Were they there? If any of them are hurt I’ll-”

“Relax.” The other Tim attested in irritation. “I need them alive; I can use them later.”

Tim crumpled as the words registered, too absorbed with relief to care what he meant by that. The adrenaline of everything retreated, leaving him shaking and cold. It had been too much for one day.

“They’ll come for me.” Tim warned wearily.

“I’m counting on it.” The other Tim answered in reply.

Tim gave up, the other him had a response for every curve Tim tried to throw at him. No matter how many snarky remarks or foiled plans he pulled the other him always had another card to play, one that would beat Tim down even more.

“In fact,” The other Tim theatrically checked his watch and tutted. “I’m expecting them anytime now.”

He looked pointedly at Tim. “Assuming you gave them a list of potential hideouts like planned?”

Tim said nothing, but averted his eyes in shame.

The other Tim’s lips curled up wolfishly. “Perfect.” He practically purred.

He collapsed his staff pointedly and clapped his hands together. “Unfortunately for you, you wont be getting rescued today.”

Tim had put that together, thanks.

“Oh don’t worry, they won’t be returning home empty handed.”

Tim was about to ask what he meant by that when Wondergirl turned and swung at his double. Striking him hard across the face.

The other Tim went down, hard, like a fallen tree. He collided with the floor nearby Tim’s feet, gaping stupendously at the cement. He braced himself a little of the ground by his forearm making a jarred face, and Tim was half expecting him to whirl around and strike Cassie himself before a pleased smile broke across his cheeks, stretching the scars carved into them.

He gingerly dabbed his fingers against where her fist landed. Flinching away when he pressed down on the forming bruise. His fingers returned coated in a glossy pink shine from his split cheekbone, the sight of it made him silently scoff in something like satisfaction. He looked… pleased? Amused?

Tim was dumbfounded. He had no clue what was happening, all he could do was stay quiet and pray he didn’t get caught in the middle of it.

The other Tim took in the stunned look on Tim’s face. “What’s wrong?” He questioned innocently, before pushing himself up and hopping to his feet. “Can’t be found without a couple scratches, it’s too suspicions.”

Tim almost jumped when his chains shook. Conner had come up behind him while Tim was distracted and plucked the bolted metal from the ceiling. Tim swerved trying to get a grasp on the situation. giving himself enough time to stumble forwards as Kon walked him towards the door holding the chains like a leash.

The other Tim gave Kon a knowing nod, which was retuned impassively. Kon tightened the chains around his fist tugging him close to him, giving him more control. The other Tim turned to Cassie, bracing himself with a grimace. “If I can still stand up,” He instructed stoically. “Hit me again.”

Cassie nodded and struck him once more, harder. Tim buckled sideways and clutched at his face, gasping through the sting, but only stalled for a moment.

He drew himself up shakily and Cassie returned a hit, this time to his stomach. Tim hit the floor hard, curling in on himself. He grit his teeth, screwing his eyes up against the feeling. However, just like the last time, it only lasted a second.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim cried in panic as his double took another hit. He searched Conner’s face for any sign of him interfering but was met with blank apathy.

“Too suspicions if they find him chained up with the place abandoned. Need to make it look realistic, like he escaped.” Kon divulged.

“So what, your plan is to fucking parent trap the bats and- and beat your friend half to death in the process?” Tim asked incredulously.

“We’ve done worse for less.” Kon muttered plainly. But Tim could see the twitch in his eye as Cassie’s boot collided with the other Tim’s soft gut. The sound it made, like a butcher beating a slab of meat, was enough to make even Tim’s stomach churn.

The procedure repeated until Tim’s double couldn’t push himself up again, collapsing bonelessly against the floor. Blood drooled sluggishly from his parted lips and pooled around his body, oozing from the open wounds on his face and limbs.

He was in no position to be giving orders anymore, but he still managed to wheeze nasally at the others.

“Don’t underestimate him.” He coughed and more blood speckled his chin. His eye’s locked onto Tim and in almost a warning he added. “He’s me.”

Tim felt the room chill, all he could muster in reply was, “I’m nothing like you.”

Yet even as he said the words. Even as the others dragged him from the room. Even as the others Tim’s swollen and bruised face disappeared from view he couldn’t help but wonder.

Was that really as true as he wanted to believe?