Archive of Our Own ^beta

It all started in that godforsaken alley. Actually it didn’t, it started this morning with a coffee order that clearly didn’t belong to him after he took the first sip. 

Already late for a board meeting, he didn’t try to go back and just felt grateful for the fact it wasn’t decaf coffee. Ungodly sweet that it made him think he'd get cavities in the noon, but it had to do. Tam’s latest proof that she was a force of nature was, that she had taken away all caffeinated drinks from his office. From Zesti to the disgusting blend of beans from god knows where. So this had to do. Oddly enough, it smelled like some type of flower. Weird. 

He was rushing back to the WE building and threading through people with an efficiency that made his head ache more than it did when he stumbled out of bed. A headache was minor, annoying for sure, but he will hardly die from that. 

Tim tipped his neck a little and drank the last of his a stranger’s to-go cup, he cleared his throat and dumped it in a bin near the entrance, lest Tam see it and chew his head off. 

The board meeting was exhausting, as always, convincing a member that raising the entire company salary was not a waste of money, but actually needed. It encouraged motivation spikes, loyalty, and he wasn’t a monster. The inflation was making it hard enough for all employees, especially those in Gotham, since the economy didn’t exactly get better. But sure, try to recruit new employees and barely pay them minimum wage. It's the secret recipe for the best employees, most certainly. Tim swished his tail back and forth in irritation and huffed out air, making quite an adorable sound, which reminded him of his current predicament. Where did it happen? 

Then some regular paperwork was taking up his time until about… let’s just say 7 pm? He had some late dinner from a food delivery Tam made in his stead. God, what would he do without her? Right, drown in work. When was the last time she went on holiday? Tim shook his furry head, eyeing his long white whiskers. He packed up, entered the underground parking and drove home. When did it happen? He tucked his fluffy paws under his chest and loafed right behind the dumpster. 

It had to be the coffee. Nothing else was different, it was routine for a Tuesday. The only anomaly was the coffee. Was it on purpose or an accident? Tim swore he didn’t feel watched, so maybe it was an accident? But what would someone do with a coffee that turned one into a cat? His mind ran through possible options and contingencies. 

A contingency, for turning into a cat, did not exist. Well, at least not until he turned back. That's clear. 

He remembered being unconscious and, by the way the night sky looked like, he'd failed to show up for patrol. The clothes disappeared with him, along with his phone. Logically speaking, Oracle would track him back to his car as his last known location. He was meeting up with Damian at midnight for a stakeout, or at least he was supposed to. Damian or another one of his family would surely come and investigate. He was practically off the grid now, involuntarily, since no phone and paws instead of hands made contacting anyone harder than coming up with ways to mock and rage bait Jason back in the Titans Tower. 

He sighed internally. This was a long damn night. Tim hoped the stray dog that chased him behind the dumpster gave up and left. He had to get back to the crime scene after all! Or his car, to say it was a crime scene was a little overboard, even for him. 

Whiskers twitching and little sniffs, made clear the dog was gone. A win he was not taking for granted. At his car now, he realized no one was here. Great. That's fine. Tim can wait. 

After two hours his patience ran thin, though he had some light naps, there was nothing more he wanted than to turn back into a human. Maybe he overestimated the concern of his family. His Robin training told him to stay where he was and wait for help, he was more than vulnerable in this form. On the other hand, he was fed up with waiting and his Red Robin instincts told him to bring matters into his own hands paws. 

There was no way he could make it into the Nest as a cat. One of his safe houses was perhaps a better option. Or the manor. Perhaps he can scout a somewhat secure location and wait the spell out. Though he had no knowledge if there was a duration or if a counter spell was needed to turn him back. If he can’t contact Oracle, then he can’t contact Zatanna. Tim growled at the air. Why did this happen, why him in the first place!?  

That’s it, he was on his own. He can figure it out, turn back, and pretend nothing happened. Or that was what he thought before a familiar noise hissed through the night, followed by 2 legs landing near the car.  

“Not here, the car is cold to the touch, so he must've left some time ago,” a distorted voice spoke to the night, or O most likely. Jason. Thank fuck. “Are you sure there's no trace of him in the city? Maybe he took a day off—okay, I got it, Barbie. I know he's a workaholic sometimes.” Jason continued to inspect the surroundings for traces of his little brother. “Well, he doesn't answer his phone, last tracked location was here… potentially, theoretically, he was kidnapped? Held for ransom?” His knee cracked when Jason bent down to look around the car and scan it for any clues. 

“No ransom call? The more I know, the less I like what's happening,” he grunted to look under the car completely only to lock eyes with a cat. The one and only Tim, you know, the one Jason was looking for. “There's a cat.” Tim looked at Jason perplexed, he was zoning out and did not notice Jason spotting him. He was still stuck on deciding whether he wanted to make himself known or not. Now that decision was ripped out of his tiny pink paws, goddammit. Jason cooed at him and Tim hissed back. “Oh someone's spicy. I bet Robin is going to love you.” Red Helmet still tilted sideways, Jason reached out his hand for the cat to sniff and quickly felt 2 tiny fangs embed themselves into his gloves. 

“Okay, that did not work out the way I intended it to, the little kitty is attached to my glove now—I didn’t grab it, it bit me!” Jason continued to talk to someone on the com line, and Tim zoned out again. Still dangling from the Red Hoods gloved hand, Jason was standing again and just staring at Tim. Not knowing the one he was looking for was right there, biting his glove. It was reflex, okay? For some reason, he felt compelled to bite the hand that was coming straight for him. He was small and the hand was big, totally a normal reaction! 

Feeling the cold concrete under his four legs, he snapped out of his thinking, wait, where was Jason going? He wasn’t leaving Tim behind, was he? As fast as his little legs took him and as loud as his lungs allowed him, did he run after Jason, meowing bloody murder. It was humiliating, but he didn’t want to be stuck under his car as a cat any longer. 

“She's following me, yelling at me with that squeaky meow. I can’t leave her behind, now, can I? No—well, Da- Robin has a cat, a dog and a fucking cow. It’s only fair I can keep a cat. What? No she's not staying with me— no, yeah, at the manor, she’ll be all lonely when I'm gone and at the manor will be Alfred the cat and Titus keeping her company.” And Tim couldn't keep listening, he wasn’t a girl! Though Jason brought up some good arguments, he can’t say otherwise. He had to make sure that Jason did take him to the manor, at all costs. This is going to be so embarrassing. 

Being face to face with Damian was not on his to-do list, at least not so close. But he was at the manor, safe and warm. Damian did handle him with care, even as he flipped Tim upside down. “It's not a girl, you imbecile. Clearly it's a boy,” Damian hissed at Jason, who was now peeking out behind the door frame of the kitchen. Cookie crumbs in his face. Man, what would Tim do for some of Alfred's cookies. 

“Well, I can still call her- him Feisty McBitesy.” Jason's laugh echoed through the kitchen as Damian scowled into the direction of the kitchen and then turned to Tim, his face softening. “I’ll make sure you're not getting an undignified name like Feisty McBitesy. Richard would be a more adequate name for you.” He sniffed once and petted Tim's head. It could be worse, Tim concluded. 

“OH MY GOD!” A voice, Tim knew very well, was making his sensitive hearing ring. It appeared it did just become worse. Curse Tim and his rotten luck. “Is this the little kitty Little Wing brought home? Oh, look at you, you little darling. That's it, your name is going to be Fishsticks the 1st!” Dick exclaimed in glee as he grabbed Tim straight out of Damian's arms, and curse Damian for the fact that he let Dick do that to him. It's nice to know, not even the pets get spared from the octopus hugs of one Dick Grayson. “Unhand him, Richard! Can’t you see you frighten Richard the cat?” The loud aw from Dick made Tim wince and meow loudly in complaint. “You named him after me? I feel so honoured, Dami!” Now, Dick cooed over Damian, which tempted Tim into his 4th escape since he entered the manor. Yet again, his plans were foiled. He hissed loudly and batted the hand that held him now numerous times, claws out, obviously. 

“Hey Feisty McBitesy is my cat, you can't name him!” Jason fake gagged while ignoring Tim's attempt on his life, “especially not Richard or Fishsticks the 1st. What kind of names are those? Come on, McBitesy, let’s go to the cave.” Tim's ear twitched as he heard a distant but still clear, “Just think about Fishsticks, Little Wing!” from Dick. 

Jason indeed was going to the cave, a quiet place to focus—to focus! Morse code, Tim can try to tell Jason he's Tim with Morse code. Tim kept bapping away on Jason's hand. Only to be ignored. Playing? He was trying to communicate and not play! Tim hissed and lightly bit Jason. “So maybe you are hungry after all? Did Alfred's wet food not smell good enough?” His hope to get recognized asked, and Tim gave up, for the time being at least. He got relocated to the collar of Jason's hoodie while, Jason was starting to type away on the Batcomputer. At least he was warm this way, and the smell of his older brother comforted him, he wasn’t under his car anymore, but also he was still a cat.  

Damian and Dick soon entered the cave as well, looking more serious this time. “O got anything?”, Dick asked, a worried tone in his voice. Jason just shook his head. “B’s still out, same with Spoiler and Black Bat. No trace from Tim so far. O’s getting worried too, this ain't normal.” Damian was looking at Dick and then Jason's, obviously lost and feeling helpless. “There must be a way to find Drake, are you sure they’re all not simply incompetent?” Jason immediately tensed, opening his mouth, probably to scold Damian. “I know you’re worried, I am too. We’ve talked about this. You can’t lash out on the others like this, come on, go into yourself and say what you really feel, use your nice words Baby Bat.” Dick interjected quickly and crouched down to give Damian a gentle hug. 

Damian kept quiet, looking down to the floor. He freed himself from the hug and walked over to the suits. “I’d rather we find Timothy than talk about feelings. I shall punish those who harmed him.” Damian, who now is Robin and all suited up, huffed, the worry still clear on his face. Jason gave Dick a weird look, when Robin turned away. He just looked back and smiled helplessly, mouthing the words ‘I tried’. The other just shrugged and rubbed his chin against the napping McBitesy. 

Jason watched Dick fidget as he watched Damian stare at Tim's old Robin suit. “Spit it out, Goldie, you look constipated.” Dick just emitted an offended sound and looked at the one who just insulted him, but kept untypically quiet. Which prompted Jason to kick his left shin, and look at him irritated. “Look, if I have to wake McBitesy because I had to beat the words out of you, then I'm gonna punch extra hard.” he hummed at the end, “or I could punch extra hard, just because.” A little pause followed, broken by a low sigh. “What if Ra’s is behind it? I can’t-” Dick choked a little at the end, “He had hurt my Baby Bird more than once already. If he did it again- I'm scared… what if I can’t hold back and just kill him?” 

That was what Tim heard when he groggily opened his eyes. The punch to his gut was immediate. The voice of his oldest brother sounded so scared, wet in a way that made his heart clench painfully, and more importantly, it was genuine. Dick would kill Ra’s Al Ghul. For Tim. 

His breath was knocked out of his lungs and he swore he forgot how to breathe. He doubted them, Tim was ashamed to admit it, but he did doubt the sincerity of his family. The certainty that they will abandon him sooner or later, was as present as it was in the past, especially right after he lost Robin. A shudder he wasn’t able to suppress ran through him, and he pressed himself closer to Jason’s collarbone, basking in the body heat, his familiar scent grounding him. His older brother truly was like a heater. 

Dick had been in shambles after he brutally beat Joker to the death, after insinuating that he killed Tim and joked about Jason's death. He was not ashamed to admit that he would be relieved if Ra’s was dead, but not at the cost of his brother's sanity. Never, at the cost of his family.  

Tim was as fiercely protective of his family as he was afraid that the same family will come to abandon him. He was aware that it was him just overthinking, but the fear was real nonetheless. 

He felt Jason move and watched him embrace Dick, an unusual sight for Jason to initiate a hug. “It’ll be fine. This won’t happen, Dickiebird, because I will get to him first. Once a murderer, always a murderer. One more or not doesn't make a difference to me. Screw what the old man thinks.” Jason's tone was serious, so serious that Tim was convinced that Jason will go out of his way to make Ra’s death as painful as he can. He had mixed feelings about it, but he swallowed them down. His brothers needed him to be safe, and that he was. Tim wasn’t with Ra’s Al Ghul, he just needed to figure out how to tell them that he was right here under their nose. 

This time Tim tried Morse code with his claws, the painful pricks should be noticeable enough for Jason, right? Jason let go of Dick to extract Tim out of his hoodie and said, “Sorry, did we squish you too hard?” Tim was getting sick of feeling helpless, but he continued the Morse code. 

- . . -- 

He tapped his name over and over again, only to get snatched out of Jason's hands and get snuggled into Dicks crook of the neck. “It's okay Fishsticks we’re fine, you don't have to comfort us baby. We just need to find our Baby Bird, I bet you’d get along just fine.” he crooned and rocked him like a human baby. Seriously, what was wrong with his brothers? 

Tim hissed and batted at Dick’s nose, making him yelp in surprise. “I think he doesn't like any of us, except maybe the brat over there.” Jason mused and nodded towards Damian with his head. Tim hissed again. “Or maybe he hates all of us.” he concluded with a shrug and a crooked smile. It wasn’t genuine. 

Before Tim could protest, he was laid down on a blanket on top of a spare chair, the one where Alfred the cat liked to nap sometimes. Great, he hoped Alfred wasn’t territorial or else he might get mauled by a cat twice his size. 

Tim retreated into the blanket, it was a strategic retreat, he had to pause and rethink his approach to get recognized. He watched as two of his brothers in the cave suited up, as Damian berated them for being slow. Ears twitching, he listened as the sound of engines faded into the distance. He had yet to spot Alfred, the butler he meant, where could he possibly be? 

Tim shook his head, it didn’t matter. He should take the chance and type out a message on the Batcomputer. Now no one could interrupt him. It was the perfect plan. He wiggled his behind as he jumped on top of the desk and waved his tail in victory. The password was annoying to input with paws, but he couldn't stop but purr as he watched the monitor shine in the colours of the desktop. He pawed at the mouse and decide it was easier to open a text file with the keyboard, and that he did after two failed tries. 

Now what should he write… I am Tim? The cat is Tim? I got changed into a cat –Tim? 

He nodded to himself as he decided on the third option, it was clear that it was Tim that wrote it and that he's the cat. Least possibility of misunderstandings. I, space, g— he squawked out an indignant meow. He found Alfred, or rather Alfred found him. 

“My, did Master Jason leave you here unattended? He should’ve known it’s too dangerous to leave you here all alone.” 

Tim loved Alfred, he really did, but at this very moment he cursed the butler to the moon and back. He watched as Alfred closed the text file with a little smile and opened the com line. The voices of his family faded out, even when he strained his ears, as Alfred carried him upstairs. “Now don't be afraid, the other animals you smell are all friendly. Alfred the cat is behind closed doors and Titus is gentle.” Tim was, weirdly enough, comforted by that statement. He also adored Alfred more, who wouldn’t? Alfred was very gentle and patient with him, even as a cat. 

Titus was indeed gentle, a gentle monster, even as Tim couldn’t help and hiss at him. The Great Dane was a giant in comparison to Tim’s cat-self. His tail flailed left and right aggressively, as he cuddled up to Titus—he was warm, okay? It made him sleepy, too. He stifled a yawn. Tim tried to fight the drowsiness and think about yet another plan to tell the others that he was Tim. He lost. You can hardly blame him. 

He woke up to coos around him and stretched instinctively with a yawn, which prompted more coos. Tim blearily looked at Jason, Dick, and Dick’s phone that was held on him. The mental note to hack Dicks phone and delete that recording was already made. “This does lift my mood a little, you were right. Look at my little boy, he's so sleepy.” The fond voice undeniably belonged to Jason and the smug ‘told ya’ smirk clearly was from Dick. “Come on, Alfred is setting the table already. We can look for Tim after eating, or Alfred might force-feed us.” Dicks knees cracked as he lifted himself up and patted Jason’s shoulder. Tim meowed with all his force. He was right here! 

“Fishsticks is hungry too, see?” Dick laughed and received a jab from Jason. “His name is not Fishsticks, Dickwing.” he grumbled and lifted Tim to cradle him in his arms, speaking up again, “we could’ve eaten something on the go and still look for Tim.” which prompted Tim to meow again. He decided to just meow obnoxiously every time anyone said his name. His family couldn’t be this oblivious. 

“Alright, let’s go McBitesy.” Tim resisted the urge to claw off Jason's face. 

Damian set a plate down with wet food and Jason placed his little body down in front of it. Tim was not going to eat cat food. That's his last straw, and he meowed bloody murder again, climbing up Jason’s sweatpants with his awfully convenient claws. “He hasn’t eaten anything, right? Is something wrong with him, or why does he refuse food? Demon spawn, the cat is broken.” Tim could not believe what the hell Jason was spouting. He wasn’t broken! 

“Perhaps looking at your face spoiled the appetite of Richard the cat.” Damian picked him up to examine him, poking and prodding his stomach and opening his mouth, and Tim felt compelled to bite down on his little brother’s finger. You know, just because he can. “HIS NAME IS NOT RICHARD-oof” Jason interjected immediately and then got jabbed in the side by Damian who glared at Jason for being too loud near the cat. “I'm not letting him live with that poor excuse of a name. We can let Timothy name him when he's back, I trust him to pick out a more sensible name than you or Richard.” Damian sniffed and turned away from Jason, Tim still in his arms. The moment Damian said Timothy, Tim started meowing again. But alas, not one of his incompetent brothers thought anything suspicious about it. 

The late breakfast at 2 pm started with slight delays. Tim sat on the chair that he always would, his designated spot at the table. He kept meowing at Bruce, who was visibly exhausted, his eye bags had their own eye bags. Dick assumed Tim wanted something on their plates, and not the attention of his father. He did eat the offered scrambled egg pieces fast enough before Damian could take them away. The brat did scold Dick for giving him the eggs. Tim realized at that moment that he was starving, the wet food was untouched, and he did think about eating it before decidedly not doing it. It was the best for his dignity. 

The want for a hug from his brother and the food from Alfred made him feel fuzzy with sadness. It's been barely 18 hours since he turned into a cat, and he can't imagine being a cat for longer than a day. By the way it's been going for him, he can expect to be cat for the rest of his godforsaken life. He had no voice, no free will, if someone wanted to pick him up, they would. His autonomy was in shambles. 

Maybe they needed bold? Yeah, Tim can give them bold. Watch him go bold. 

He scrambled to the other end of the table towards Bruce, ignoring the surprised sounds of his family, ignoring that Steph and Cass just entered the room, he bolted and skidded to a stop before Bruce. His father's surprised face was staring at him. Tim decided he was gonna scream at him until his throat was raw. He meowed and batted at Bruce’s incoming hand in Morse code. 

His yowls and Morse code attempts died when Dick asked if Cass and Steph had something new, anything about the whereabouts of Tim. A second passed and Tim ran towards Dick, now meowing at his eldest sibling. “What's up with the cat? Already looking for a replacement for Tim?”, Steph said jokingly, but the worry and sadness in her eyes made Tim stop at hissing at her. Instead, he meowed now at Steph, staring into her eyes. The moment someone else said his name, Tim was ready to bolt over and meow at them. He debated whether to add the Morse code for his name or put more effort into meowing. 

Tim stopped and silence greeted him, one last time did he tap the table loudly. 

- . . -- 

A pregnant pause, that broke when a small voice hesitantly spoke up. 

“Tim?” 

He yowled pathetically and looked at Bruce, his father, not blinking once. Jason stood up, the chair scraping against the floor loudly and stumbled over words, “If you're Tim, look at me and blink three times, no once, three times.” Tim was not insane and did the only logical thing and blinked at Jason, three deliberate slow times. 

Multiple voices were overlapping, and more chairs scraped over the floor. He distinctly heard his father say that he was calling Zatanna. Whereas Damian almost crushed Tim’s cat-self against him, wet words of scolding were heard and Tim watched Dick slump back into his chair in relief, his face in his hands. Steph was now next to Damian, berating Tim that he didn’t tell them earlier, to which he would laugh in her face if he could. 

Cass comforted a devastated but also relieved Jason. Alfred helped Bruce in contacting Zatanna, after making sure every single one of his grandchildren were safe, the poor man rushed out the kitchen after hearing the commotion, dish rag still in hand. 

It took about half an hour for Zatanna to arrive, probably pressured by Bruce to come as fast as she could, and who would Zatanna be to take her time with a worried father asking her for help? She was briefed on the way to the medical bay, a funny sight greeting her. Cass was rocking a cat, who was actually Red Robin, while completely immobilizing him in her hold. 

Quickly, Tim was getting held by Zatanna, her slight smile showing her amusement after she finished her assessment. “He consumed a potion of shapeshifting. It should wear off in a few days, but I guess you'd prefer it if I prepare a counter potion, no?” Bruce shot her a look and Zatanna laughed, “Alright, coming right up.” Tim was let down on the cot and was quickly seized by Dick, who was cuddling him, making kissing noises into his soft fur. He let Dick go wild, since he did feel a little guilty for going missing. Not that he did do it on purpose. 

Bruce watched Zatanna make a reverse spell based on runes. “There are notes of botanical infusion and traces of celestial magic. Truly fascinating. I believe this was not targeted and more an unlucky accident. If you add another variable, for example a herb, the result of the potion would be different.” she explained and hummed, “I can only guess, but if I had to bet then I’d say it's actually an universal base for different kinds of potions. Not meant for consumption, perhaps even the maker doesn't know the effects of the base.” Zatanna turned to Bruce with a calming smile. “There shouldn't be any side or long term effects, stop worrying.” 

Fifteen minutes later, Tim was in his own body again, dazedly looking at his hand clench and unclench a few times, before Dick tackled him into a hug, which escalated into a cuddling pile. Alfred was the only one who didn’t join or wasn’t dragged in, and he watched with a smile, ignoring the few grunts and complaints. 

“Hey, who's pulling my hair?!” “Not me, Blondie, but you are stabbing me with your pointy ass elbow.” “Unhand me Richard!” “Naw, come on, Baby Bird is back, we have to hug out the stress and worry, Dami.” “Mhh warm.” “Do you need a blanket, Cass? Alfred, can you please go fetch a blanket for Cassie? Chum… son, Dick for the love of god stop chocking your brother, Tim has to breathe.” “As long as he doesn't call me Fishsticks I'm good.”  

Later in the evening, Tim was resting in the media room, just lounging on the softest couch, not doing anything in particular. Even his phone was just laying on a table, discarded the moment he laid down. 

The door swung open, revealing Jason balancing two steaming mugs and a plate of brownies. He approached Tim and set down the mugs. Tim gave the other a look and a brow rose slowly, higher than the other. “Alfred made the hot chocolate. I poisoned it,” he said with a deadpan voice, “the brownies too.” Tim couldn't help but smile into his hoodie. “Thanks.” Jason hummed and answered, “Not for that you idiot, who drinks a potion and gets turned into a cat anyway. Not me, for sure.” 

“Jay,” he said, sitting up, “I'm serious.” Jason just huffed and shook his head, and then looked to the door, avoiding Tim's piercing gaze. “You’d do the same for me, you already did, too often for me to keep count.” Tim kept quiet. 

Jason heard Tim move, clothes rustled, and he assumed Tim just readjusted his position to be more comfortable or grab one of the mugs. Instead of doing either of those things, Tim kept moving closer to Jason until he embraced Jason, tightly. Jason couldn't suppress the flinch, as he did not expect that to happen. “Thank you for not leaving me.” 

And if Tim's shoulders happen to start shaking, and Jason's hoodie starts to get a wet patch, then this was Jason’s business, and Jason's alone.