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“Shit, shit, shit! Agent A, tell me you found him.”
There was no such thing as a simple patrol. Some patrols ended with a few bruises. Others where he would have preferred to stay in bed. Still others where it was a miracle to go home alive.
Tonight, it was one of those.
Jason had to face a city-destroying crisis alone, and the only one who could help him was Alfred. Nightwing was somewhere in the space, and Batgirl was still in the hospital!
“I'm working on the location,” came the calm voice from the transmitter, and Jason deeply envied the butler for his ability to maintain control.
He couldn't do it.
It was guilt that got him.
I shouldn't have left, he kept telling himself. I should have stuck with Batman.
He hadn't listened to Batman because he'd seen a client picking on a prostitute. The girl was a little older than Jason, and the guy could have been her father.
He couldn't do anything. When he resolved the issue and waited with the victim for the police to arrive, he expected the mother of all reproaches.
He didn't care, because it had been the right thing to do.
But Batman was nowhere to be found, the Batmobile parked where she'd left him, the door open. It was a miracle that no one had tried to steal it, but Batman's fear conquered everything, even hunger.
He immediately knew something was wrong. And when Batman hadn't answered his call, he'd been sure of it.
Someone had gotten lucky and gotten Batman. Who? And where?
He's been tormenting himself with those questions for half an hour, and if Alfred doesn't find something within the next five minutes, he's going to get in the Batmobile and to hell with it all, he's going to drive all over Gotham looking for Bruce.
His nerves were already on edge when he heard a familiar little voice behind him.
“Uhm…Robin?”
He froze. He knew that voice. He knew it very well. But it couldn't belong to who he thought, because the person in question was eleven years old, a civilian, and should be in fucking bed.
Unfortunately for him, that night the Universe had decided to continue kicking him and when he turned around, he found himself in front of a child with a big black sweatshirt and a camera just around his neck.
Not even the hood completely covered his face, and Jason immediately recognized Tim.
His freaking younger brother.
Just…how?
“What are you doing here?!” Jason blurted out, trying to stay calm.
“I take photographs,” the boy said, showing him the camera and the teenager tried, unsuccessfully, not to scream. It failed miserably.
"Photo? Are you out here at night for this? You should be at home!"
He should be in his room in Wayne Manor, oblivious to his family's affairs, while they all kept the town safe.
They weren't doing a good job: Batman was missing Robin was alone, and he had to convince Tim to come home without giving anything away!
What the fuck!
When three months ago Bruce had brought home another child - it had been a mess: Janet Drake had been killed, her husband was almost certainly guilty, the two had been cheating on each other for years, they were always arguing and, the trigger for the murder, there was the possibility that Tim wasn't even Jack Drake's son but someone else's. And Jason had his suspicions about who the little guy's biological father might be but Bruce didn't want to do the damn test so as not to upset Tim too much, talking bullshit about how he didn't want to destroy Tim's world again and stuff like that. All nonsense, and Jason had told him so several times. Jack Drake was a murderer and a bastard, and if Jason were in Tim's place, he would be overjoyed to know that he wasn't his son. There had been no way to make Bruce see reason, but Alfred had taken some DNA samples. Just in case, he said. He knew Bruce better than anyone, and sooner or later doubt would gnaw at him too. Better to have the samples ready, right? – everyone had agreed to keep him in the dark as much as possible.
Bruce wanted at least one child under his care not to risk his life every night, and Jason…well, it was partly because of that, but mostly he wasn't ready to have a replacement so soon.
It seemed like none of them did a good job of keeping Tim out of trouble.
“I know,” Tim said, showing no sign of being sorry. “But I have something that can be very useful to you.”
"What?"
Without hesitation, Tim handed him his camera and scrolled through the photos on the monitor. Jason gasped: they were the photographs of Bruce's kidnapping!
"Scarecrow?"
“I suspect he kidnapped him to test his new fear toxin on him. – Tim supplied, very helpful. – What better test subject than Batman, fear incarnate?”
“What bullshit.”
“Hey, that's just a hypothesis! Maybe it's all a complicated revenge plan, what do I know!"
He sighed, “I wasn't telling you…anyway, thanks. Now I'll have to take you home and then..."
"I can help!"
Jason gave him a long look, “I highly doubt it, boy.”
“But yes! I know where Scarecrow is hiding!”
“What?”
“I discovered it by chance during one of my… night drives – he was forced to admit, making Jason's blood pressure rise. – It's located a little further on, before the Bowery, in the basement of a former bank that..."
"A few months ago? How often do you go out at night?”
“Enough,” the boy replied, and that wasn't an answer at all. Jason had to fight the urge to pull his hair.
How could they not have noticed that Tim had gone out at night to take photos?! Worst of all, how the hell had his brother managed to do this behind Alfred's back?
His paternity theory was becoming less speculation and more certainty!
“Okay, you were helpful, but…”
“Come on Jason! Don't keep me out!”
The heart skipped a beat. They both stared at each other, Tim frowning, looking bravely at the other, “What's up? I think it's time to stop pretending too!”
“You…you know?!”
"Sure!"
“How did you…”
“You didn't betray yourselves - Tim reassured him - I discovered it on my own a few years ago, when I saw Nightwing do a quadruple somersault. It's a very difficult move, and only four people in the world can do it. Two are in China, one is ninety years old, and the other is Dick Grayson. From there I couldn't help but look for evidence and..."
While Tim explained in detail how he had come to establish Batman's identity with absolute certainty along with everything else, Jason's mind went blank.
Alfred's voice in his ear brought him back to reality, "I found Batman He is..."
“Ah… no need. Tim knows where it is.”
“Young master Tim? But he…"
“He's right here, in front of me,” Jason said, as his younger brother held his gaze. – And saw Batman kidnapped by Scarecrow.”
"He saw the kidnapping?"
“And he also knows where Scarecrow's hideout is because he's been out before!” he added, unable to keep the hysteria from his voice.
“Oh…I should have expected that.”
"What do you mean?"
“Batman doesn't tend to choose normal children,” the butler said sagely.
Jason would be very offended by the implication that he wasn't normal if it weren't true. No one in their right mind would agree to walk around town dressed like a fucking traffic light.
“Yeah…now he wants to follow me, you could put the Batmobile on autopilot and…”
"I can help!" Tim interrupted. “I can hack into the security systems of Scarecrow's hideout, distract him, and allow you to save Batman!”
“There's no talking about it. You should go home! Now!"
"But…"
“No buts. At home. Then we'll talk again... about everything."
Tim pouted, and Jason didn't find it adorable, not at all. The child protested vehemently but eventually got into the Batmobile.
The car started up, autopilot active, and drove away, while its passenger was torn between being excited to be inside Batman's car, or angry that he couldn't kick Scarecrow's ego.
Nevermind. Now he knew who to look for.
After a night like that, though, there was one thing he could say.
Bruce was the father.