Chapter Text
It was a slow day at the Titans tower, there were no imminent catastrophes, no fights for the survival of humanity. Heck, there wasn't even a call from Batman. It was one of those lazu days, where Tim got to work on his paperwork and his school work while the rest rested.
“Ugh, I am so bored,” Cissie groaned, flopping backward onto the couch dramatically. With a lazy flick of her wrist, she notched an arrow and fired it at the apple Greta was balancing on her nose.
Greta didn’t even flinch.
Cassie, lounging nearby, caught the apple mid-air without even looking, took a casual bite, and smirked. “You could try patience, you know.”
Cissie scoffed. “I could, but that sounds boring too.”
Bart, sprawled out on the floor next to Kon, grinned. “I dunno, I kinda like days like this. No fighting, no near-death experiences—just vibes.”
Kon, meanwhile, was working out, pushing through a set of push-ups like he wasn’t even trying. His muscles flexed with each movement, shoulders broad, arms insanely toned, and Tim—well.
Tim was definitely looking.
He sat cross-legged on the floor, pretending to focus on his tablet, but every time Kon lowered himself and pushed back up, Tim’s gaze flickered—just for a second—before he forced himself back to his screen.
Kon had to know what he was doing.
Because Tim was not subtle.
And if his gaydar wasn’t completely miscalibrated, there was something in the way Kon’s smirk deepened when he caught Tim staring. Something in the way he let each movement drag out a little longer, each controlled push-up an effortless display of strength.
Tim swallowed and forced his brain to function.
He had a little crush.
Okay, maybe a big crush.
And if he wasn’t completely misreading things, maybe—just maybe—that attraction wasn’t one-sided.
He deleted the last line of his report before making an attempt to write it again. The quiet hum of the base was a rare luxury, one he intended to take full advantage of.
"Yeah," Cassie said, stretching with a contented smile. "Nothing can go wrong today."
The room fell silent.
Bart's eyes widened in horror. Cissie inhaled sharply, as if Cassie had just personally doomed them all. Even Tim, who had been very pointedly trying not to ogle Kon, slowly turned to stare at her with pure disbelief.
"Cassie," Cissie whispered, clutching her blanket like a lifeline. "Why would you say that?"
Greta gasped. "You invoked it!"
Kon groaned, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "That’s it. We’re screwed. Nice knowing you guys."
Cassie blinked at them, confused. “Oh, come on. It’s fine. You guys are so overdram—”
And that’s when the universe decided to punish them.
Without warning, a blinding green portal ripped open in the middle of the room, crackling with unnatural energy and spilling eerie, ghostly light across the walls. The temperature dropped several degrees in an instant. The static in the air made their hair stand on end.
Chaos erupted.
Greta shrieked and promptly phased through her chair in sheer panic.
Tim, already running through worst-case scenarios, lunged for his Bo staff, knocking over his tablet in the process.
Cassie—who was still in her pajamas—vaulted over the couch, landed in a combat stance, and immediately regretted doing so barefoot on cold tile.
Kon, startled mid-stretch, jerked forward and—with an awful ripping sound—completely shredded his T-shirt. (Tim did not need to see that right now, oh my god.)
Cissie, in a desperate attempt to leap into action, forgot she was wrapped in a blanket, got tangled in it, and face-planted onto the floor with a muffled "oof!"
Bart, true to form, reacted so hard that he ricocheted off a wall and collapsed into a heap next to Cissie.
For a split second, there was nothing but stunned silence—just the flickering light of the still very ominous portal and the sound of Bart groaning into the carpet.
Then Cissie, still face-down, muffled out, "Cassie, I swear to god—"
Then, as abruptly as it had appeared, the portal spat out its arrival—like a vending machine rejecting a crumpled dollar bill.
A tiny, chubby-cheeked toddler with black hair and glowing green eyes popped into existence.
She didn’t fall.
She floated.
Effortlessly.
Hovering just a few inches above the ground, she turned her head, taking in her surroundings with the calm curiosity of a child who absolutely belonged here—despite the fact that nobody here had ever seen her before.
The portal flickered once behind her.
Then it snapped shut with a final bzzt of eerie green energy, leaving them alone with the tiny, floating, possibly supernatural child.
The team froze.
Tim, still gripping his Bo staff, stared. “What the—?”
At the sound of his voice, the toddler perked up. Her glowing eyes locked onto him, her face lit up with pure, unfiltered joy, and—
"DADDY!"
Tim choked on air.
Cassie’s jaw dropped. Her mouth hung open in a way that suggested she was mentally blue-screening.
Bart, still pushing himself off the wall, swayed slightly before violently whipping his head to look at Tim, eyes the size of dinner plates.
Kon—poor Kon—just froze. Wide-eyed. Horrified. Already running the mental math on whether this was physically possible and coming up distressingly empty.
Tim, meanwhile, was questioning everything he had ever known.
"I— I’m sorry, what?" He managed, his voice slightly strangled.
Before Tim could react further, the toddler launched herself at him with the speed of a heat-seeking missile.
He barely had time to yelp before she latched onto his face—tiny arms wrapping around his head like a koala claiming its favorite tree.
The room descended into absolute chaos.
Cassie spluttered. Cissie groaned from her spot on the floor like this was somehow Tim’s fault. Kon looked like he was caught between intervening and passing out.
Meanwhile, Bart and Greta completely lost their minds.
"TIM, WHAT DID YOU DO?!" Bart demanded, hands gripping his hair like Tim had just doomed them all.
"I DON’T KNOW!" Tim shouted back, frantically trying to pry the giggling child off his face.
The baby only clung tighter, her delighted laughter ringing through the room—like she hadn’t just thrown his entire existence into question.
Cassie threw her hands up. "Are we just ignoring the part where she flew?!"
Kon looked seconds away from clutching his invisible pearls and crying. "Is she Kryptonian?! She’s flying, isn’t she?!"
"I mean," Cissie mumbled, looking equally disturbed. "She could be an Amazon."
"NO!" Cassie screamed, looking personally offended.
Before anyone could answer, the toddler smacked Tim’s cheek with an affectionate—but surprisingly firm—pat.
"Daddy!" she chirped again, as if doubling down would somehow make it true.
Tim, barely holding onto his last thread of sanity, exhaled sharply through his nose. "I’m not your dad."
In response, the baby promptly began gnawing on his glove.
"Hey—stop that," Tim muttered, shaking his hand in an attempt to dislodge her.
She refused.
If anything, she tightened her grip, locking her little jaw like a baby alligator.
The room descended further into madness.
"This is so much worse than anything I was expecting," Kon muttered, running a hand through his hair like this was somehow his problem.
"Why is she chewing on him?!" Bart yelped. "Why is this happening?!"
Cassie just pointed at Tim with wide eyes. "She’s imprinting on you! Like a baby duck!*"
Tim scowled. "I am not a duck!"
"You are kind of bird-shaped," Cissie mumbled under her breath.
"Not helping!" Tim snapped, still flailing his hand in a losing battle against the world’s strongest toddler.
Cissie, finally recovered from her face-plant, hesitantly approached. "Okay, let’s just—let’s get her off before Tim actually loses it."
"Too late!" Tim hissed, glaring at the baby still happily gnawing on his glove like a teething puppy.
Cissie reached out, carefully trying to pry the baby free.
At first, the toddler resisted, gripping Tim’s cape with surprising strength, like a tiny, determined gremlin. But then—she paused. Tilted her head. Blinked.
Her entire expression lit up like she’d just spotted Santa Claus.
"Cassie!!"
Without warning, she released Tim—sending him stumbling back with a yelp—and launched herself straight at Cassie.
"Whoa—okay, uh, hi?" Cassie fumbled, barely managing to catch the tiny projectile before she collided with her face. The baby giggled, snuggling into her like they were old friends.
At that, the rest of the team slowly unfroze, their curiosity outweighing their complete and utter confusion.
Bart zipped up next, eyes wide. "She knows you! That’s suspicious, right? I feel like that’s suspicious."
Cissie, now peering at the toddler like she was trying to solve a particularly annoying puzzle, put her hands on her hips. "Wait, does she know all of us?"
Kon, still looking vaguely horrified, remained at a very safe distance. "Why are you all acting like this is normal?!"
"Because look at her!" Cissie gestured at the baby, who was now happily yanking on the laces of Cassie’s hoodie. "She’s adorable!"
The girl, as if on cue, turned to Kon and gave her best attempt at puppy-dog eyes.
Kon stared. His mouth opened. Closed.
"…Okay, that was unfair," he muttered, crossing his arms and looking away.
One by one, the rest of the team cautiously approached.
Bart let the baby grab his fingers, marveling at how tiny her hands were. "Oh my god, she’s so small. Look at this. Look at this tiny hand. My heart—"
Cassie reached over to ruffle her hair, grinning when the girl let out a delighted giggle. "Okay, yeah, I’m officially in love. Can we keep her?"
Kon, after much internal debate, hovered nearby, watching her like she was a particularly unstable grenade. "Are we sure she’s not Kryptonian? She flies. I feel like we should be more concerned about this."
Greta was the last to step forward, hesitantly taking the baby into her arms. The toddler settled without complaint, glowing green eyes blinking up at her curiously. For a moment, the room was quiet.
Then Greta turned to Tim, frowning.
"…Tim, how did you end up with a ghost baby?"
Silence.
Tim, still reeling, groaned and dragged a hand down his face. "I don’t even know who she is."
The baby had been perfectly content in Greta’s arms—until, suddenly, she wasn’t. Like sensing her father's distress she started to fuss.
She grunted. Squirmed. Wriggled like an angry worm. Then, as if she had just remembered something very important, she twisted around until she locked eyes on Tim.
And then, with all the authority a tiny floating toddler could muster, she stretched out her chubby arms toward him, opening and closing her little hands in clear demand.
"Daddy."
Tim closed his eyes. "I am so tired."
The room collectively turned to look at Tim.
Tim, who had barely started processing the phrase ghost baby, stared back at them, eyes wide with denial. "No."
Ellie grunted again, this time with more urgency.
Greta sighed, shaking her head. "She clearly wants you." Without hesitation, she gently passed the toddler over, completely ignoring the sheer betrayal on Tim’s face.
The moment she landed in his arms, Ellie snuggled in like she belonged there, resting her tiny head against his shoulder with a contented sigh.
Cassie bit back a laugh. "Aww. Let’s keep the baby happy."
"She needs to be with her parents," Tim deadpanned, already resigned to his fate.
Ellie, apparently done with snuggling, suddenly perked up. She grabbed the front of his suit and tugged—hard—like she had something very important to say.
Instead of words, she unleashed a flurry of determined baby noises—half grunts, half babble—her tiny brows furrowed in deep concentration, as if trying to will him into understanding through sheer persistence.
Cissie snorted. "Okay, this is cute."
"This is not cute," Tim corrected, though he made no attempt to move her. "This is a problem."
"A cute problem," Bart chimed in. "You’re a dad now, dude. Congrats!"
Tim squeezed his eyes shut. "I hate all of you."
Bart tilted his head. "Okay, but what’s her name? That feels important."
"Good point," Kon agreed. "Anyone see a name tag?"
For a second, nobody moved. Then, slowly, everyone leaned in, staring at the toddler like she was some ancient artifact waiting to be deciphered.
"Uh…" Tim hesitated. "We… could check her shirt collar?"
The baby, absolutely delighted by the sudden attention, giggled and kicked her tiny feet.
"Okay, great. Who’s doing it?"
Without hesitation, Bart and Cissie both pointed at Cassie.
Cassie groaned. "Oh, come on."
Still, she stepped forward, sighing as she gently reached over and tugged at the tiny black T-shirt, peeking inside the collar. Her eyebrows shot up. "Oh."
Tim, already dreading the answer, narrowed his eyes. "Oh? What oh?"
Cassie looked at him, barely suppressing a smirk. "Says ‘Ellie.’"
Tim sighed, adjusting his hold. "Ellie, huh?"
At the sound of her name, the toddler’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. She beamed at him, pure joy in her glowing green eyes.
"Daddy?"
Tim nearly dropped her.
Kon whistled low, staring. "Wow. You really got owned just now, man."
Bart cackled. "You have no way out of this."
Cissie smirked, crossing her arms. "You are officially a dad now. Congrats."
Tim groaned. "I refuse."
And like she could understand everything said about her, Ellie turn to look at Tim with the severity of a judge about to give a veredict and said "No"
Cassie doubled over, laughing so hard she nearly hit the floor.
Cissie was crying.
Kon had turned away, gripping the back of the couch like he was experiencing a full-blown existential crisis.
Tim, meanwhile, just stared at Ellie, who gazed back with absolute certainty—like she had just solved his entire existence.
He exhaled slowly. "I need so much coffee."
Ellie, apparently approving of this plan, gave his cheek another enthusiastic pat, a smile on her face.
Tim, not knowing what else to do with an armfull full of baby, started to rock her back and forth. "Okay. We need to check her DNA—see if she’s actually mine."
The team collectively nodded in solemn agreement.
Then, like a starter pistol had gone off—
Everyone bolted toward the lab.
Bart sprinted ahead, yelling, "SCIENCE TIME!"
Cassie vaulted over the couch.
Cissie tripped over a chair but kept running.
Kon, still muttering "this isn’t happening," just flew there.
Tim, still holding Ellie, just sighed and followed at a normal pace—because someone in this group needed to act like an adult.
But before they could even get started, Ellie’s lower lip wobbled.
Then came the sniffles.
And then—
Full-blown, soul-crushing baby cries.
The team panicked.
"Oh my God, what’s wrong?!" Cissie yelped, eyes darting around like the lab had personally offended the baby.
"Did we break her?!" Bart shrieked, already vibrating in place like he was about to run circles around the problem.
"Did she fall?!" Cassie demanded, despite the fact that Ellie had never touched the ground.
Kon, still looking thoroughly distressed, muttered, "Why is she so loud?" as if the sheer decibel level personally offended him.
Tim, utterly exhausted, just patted Ellie’s back awkwardly. "Okay, okay—what’s wrong? You were fine a second ago."
Ellie, still clinging to Tim, wailed louder, like her tiny ghostly heart had just shattered into a million pieces.
"Oh God," Bart whispered. "We definitely broke her."
Greta, the only one thinking critically, frowned. "I think she’s hungry."
"Right! Food!" Bart announced like he had just solved world hunger. He immediately zoomed off and returned half a second later, shoving something toward Ellie. "Here, have a protein bar!"
He unwrapped it and held it out. Ellie, sniffling, reached for it with a tiny, trembling hand, and then—
"No, no, no," Cassie intercepted, grabbing the bar from Bart’s hand like it was an active grenade. "She’s a baby, Bart. You can’t just give her compressed calories designed for grown supers."
Seeing her food being taken away from her, Ellie trashed in Tim's arms, the cries starting again.
"Oh, like she’s gonna get protein poisoning?" Bart huffed, crossing his arms. "It’s literally just food—"
Somewhere in the chaos, someone else (Tim couldn’t even see who) casually attempted to pass Ellie a mug of coffee.
That was it.
Tim lost it.
"STOP!" he ordered, voice sharp enough to cut through the madness. "Everyone, back off."
The team froze.
Ellie stopped, but that didn't stop her lip from wobbling menacingly.
Tim sighed, adjusting Ellie in his arms as she let out a few last sniffles. "I’ll handle this. Just—go do something else."
Of course, they all immediately started to follow him.
"Why are you like this?" Tim muttered under his breath.
Ignoring their collective grumbling, he carried Ellie into the kitchen. She was still sniffling, though quieter now, big watery eyes blinking up at him as he set her down on the counter.
Tim rummaged through the cabinets until he found one of the no-spill cups they’d bought as a joke for Bart. Perfect.
He poured some warm milk, added a drizzle of honey, and gave it a quick stir before handing it over. “Here. Try this.”
Ellie took the cup with her tiny hands and hesitated for half a second before wrapping her mouth around the spout.
Immediately, her whole body relaxed.
Her little eyes drooped halfway, her tiny feet swung back and forth, and a quiet, satisfied hum rumbled in her throat.
The entire team watched in stunned silence as Ellie melted on the counter like a tiny, exhausted gremlin who had just found enlightenment in the form of warm milk.
Tim exhaled in relief, rubbing a hand down his face. "Finally."
Ellie, now fully committed to her drink, let out a long, happy sigh—one of those deep, soul-settling sighs that only came from absolute contentment.
"That was adorable," Cissie whispered, as if speaking too loudly would ruin the moment.
"That was terrifying," Kon countered, still looking at the baby like she was a potential world-ending event. "She went from full breakdown to zen master in two seconds. That’s not normal."
"She’s a baby, Kon," Cassie snorted, leaning against the counter. "You know, they have moods."
"Yeah, but she’s a ghost baby," Kon hissed, gesturing wildly. "What if she starts, I don’t know, possessing things?!"
"Oh my God," Tim muttered, already regretting his life choices.
Bart, meanwhile, zipped forward and poked Ellie’s cheek. She blinked up at him with the laziest, sleepiest stare imaginable.
"Nope," Bart declared, grinning. "She’s fine. Tiny. Cute. Would die for her."
Tim dragged a hand down his face again. "You guys aren’t helping."
"What?" Cissie grinned. "We’re just saying—Ellie is officially the team baby now. You brought her here. You deal with it."
Tim groaned. "I did not bring her here. She crashed through a glowing hell portal and latched onto my face like a deranged koala."
"And that sounds like a you problem," Cassie teased, smirking. "Good luck, Dad."
Tim stared at them. Then at Ellie. Then back at them.
Ellie, as if sensing the conversation was about her, let out a soft, milk-drunk hiccup and snuggled deeper into her drink.
Tim sighed deeply. He watched her like she was the strangest puzzle he’d ever encountered, then he sighed. “You really are a baby, huh?”
Ellie blinked sleepily up at him, sucking on the cup like it was the greatest thing she’d ever been given.
Tim picked her up, and this time, she didn’t latch onto his face—she simply curled into his chest, nestling in like she belonged there.
Tim exhaled and glanced down at the toddler in his arms. She yawned, nuzzling against him, still sucking on the cup.
“…Guess we’ll do the DNA test after nap time.”