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Bruce hates magic. And days like these, it’s not difficult to see why.
“So?”
Zatanna shrugs “It’s temporary, don’t get your cowl in a twist. Two or three days, a week max. We’ll have Nightwing back good as new.”
“A week” Bruce blanches a little “Are you telling me he is going to be eight years old for a WEEK?”
Tim can’t help but look a bit puzzled. This is hardly the worst thing a magic user has done to any of them. And they just got confirmation Dick will be fine.
Batman is panicking over this? The whole Red Hood mess must have shaken him more than they thought.
Zatanna shrugs “Worst case scenario”
“But even in best case scenario, it’s going to be at least two days?”
“Yes?”
“And…You are telling me there is no way for you to reverse the spell”
Zatanna gives him the same look Tim did “Batman. Spells like this are complicated. Too complicated to be undone without serious risk. There’s no way you will get any reputable mage -or Constantine – to do a procedure like that when the issue is guaranteed to fix itself.”
Bruce sighs. “I know. It’s just…”
The magician smiles and places a hand on his shoulder. “Dick will be fine, B.”
“It’s not Dick I’m worried about.”
Tim leaves the pair to the discussion, and wanders over to his big – well. Now little, like really little – brother.
Dick is perched on the back of the computer chair, swinging his tiny legs. The Nightwing costume being way too big for him now, Alfred has fished out one of Dick’s old Robin costumes from storage.
Tim barely resists the urge to coo. He has seen baby pictures of Dick, of course, courtesy of Alfred, but none of them have quite managed to capture the whole puppy eyes look.
Tim loves normal Dick, of course, but he will burn down the world for this Dick.
The poor kid must be terrified. Eight years old. Less than a year after his parents died. Not yet Robin all the way.
Dick has told them how Bruce used to take him to ‘fight crime’ at this age – basically consisting of Bruce going out early clearing the streets, then taking Tiny Dick ‘patrolling’ through the rooftops for an hour or so till his bedtime, in an effort to burn off a bit of the hyper energy (and stop Dick from sneaking out to patrol alone).
Itty bitty Dick, in his little Robin costume who – from his perspective – has just been snatched from the home he was just starting to get used to and thrown into a future world.
Tim hates to think how he must be feeling. He puts on his best Robin ™ smile, the one that works best with kids.
“Hi, Dickie”
The kid grins up at him. “Hi, Timmy”
Adorable. Tim is willing to bet at least a couple of Rogues in the past surrendered to this Dick just out of Cuteness Proximity.
Tim ruffles his hair. Dick leans easily into the touch, like a kitten being petted. Of course, Dick at any age loves cuddles.
“Timmy?”
“Yeah, Dickie?”
“Do hearts keep beating for a bit after you take them out of the chest?”
What. Tim’s brain short circuits for a second.
Dick is still looking up at him, smiling that adorable imp smile with one missing baby tooth.
“…hearts?”
“Yeah! Like, hearts?” Dick indicates his chest, like Tim might have a problem figuring out which organ he is talking about “Like, when they transplant hearts they can do it because hearts keep beating a bit more, right?”
Whew. Heart transplantation. Okay. That’s…that’s kinda a better topic than what Tim thought they were wandering into.
…………………………………….
Alfred comes down with cookies and milk about twenty minutes later, and stares in horror at Tim’s laptop screen.
“Master Timothy. Why exactly are you showing a video of open heart surgery to young Master Dick?”
Tim, a bit green already, looks at the butler with a frankly shell shocked expression. “I have absolutely no idea, Alfie.”
Alfred looks at Dickie, who is watching the video with the avid expression of a child watching Tom and Jerry cartoons, and nods.
“I…can understand. At least it is not True Crime this time. Master Dick, perhaps you would like to have a snack before continuing your…video?”
………………………………….
“Dick” Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose in a futile effort to ward off the building headache “Sweetheart, please come down from the chandelier.”
“I wanna take my tea here! Timmy said I could have it anywhere in the house!”
Tim gives Bruce a glance of pleading apology. Bruce just sighs.
………………………..
Tim screams when he sees it, bringing Bruce and Alfred rushing in.
Dick is standing in one of the tunnels leading out, a swarm of bats circling around him.
Tim is about to rush down to rescue the no doubt terrified baby Robin when Bruce places a restraining hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s playing with them.”
“Playing with them?!?”
Bruce sighs. He has been sighing a lot in the past few hours. “Why do you think WE pharmaceutical wing invented an aerosolized rabies vaccine? The bats in the cave are all vaccinated for all zoonotic diseases.”
“He…still does this?”
“Sometimes. It’s…less disconcerting to watch when he is not tiny enough to be potentially carried off by bats”
One large bat is now hanging from Dickie’s outstretched arm. The kid is petting its head and cooing over it.
Tim groans.
…………………………………
“What’s your superhero name?”
Tim has to look up to meet Dickie’s eyes, perched as his newly tiny brother is on top of the biggest cabinet.
“Robin.”
The moment the word left his mouth, Tim knows he has screwed up.
…………………………….
It takes them an hour, a dozen stuffed animals, Alfred’s special chocolate and strawberry swirl ice cream and Bruce dressed in the Rainbow Batman suit, to calm Dickie down.
“You can’t be Robin” Dickie looks at him with those big blue eyes filled with tears “I’m Robin. Mami called me Robin.”
Tim’s hands and face are still smarting from the scratches left by tiny fingernails, batarangs (how did the kid get those!) and at least two bitemarks, but the guilt of causing that look to appear on the baby’s face hurts way more.
“Of course you’re Robin, Dickie” he promises “That’s just…short for my codename.”
“Really?”
“Really!”
Anything! Just stop looking like that!
“Then what’s your actual codename?”
Um. Think fast, think fast, come on Timmy, you’re supposed to have a genius IQ!
Tim would forever blame the next words out of his mouth on Stephanie’s decision to get takeout last night. “Red Robin”
Dick’s face twists slightly in a frown. “That’s your superhero name?”
“Yeah!” Tim nods his head so fast he likely looks like a bobblehead doll “Like, I’m a major fan of Grown Up you, okay? So, when I took a superhero name I wanted it to be like yours!”
Dickie’s eyes narrow as he is thinking it through. Finally, a few interminable moments later, he nods.
“I guess that’s okay…”
Whew. Crisis averted. The beaming Dick Grayson ™ smile is back again, triple as adorable coming from the Baby Robin
“Sorry ‘bout hurting you, Timmy. Wanna have some ice cream?”
…………………………………………..
“So, what’s with our plan now? You know, now that Nightwing is…um, not available?”
“I’ve called Spoiler” Bruce sighs “She’ll do.”
“What, you’ll call in Steph to replace Nightwing, but I’m still benched?”
“Spoiler maybe not as experienced as I’d like, but she is at least not the direct target of Red Hood. And, much as I hate to admit it, her…unorthodox methods…might help to throw the Hood’s plans off the rails, given how he seems to have planned for both myself and Nightwing.”
“I’m so gonna tell Steph you said that.”
Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to ward off the coming headache. “You are benched. You will remain in the Manor. I might need to call you into the field – if I have to, which I will do my best to make sure I don’t. All the same, better you remain in Gotham.”
“With Dick?”
Bruce pauses, then shakes his head “…No. Our earlier plans will have a slight tweak. Dick will be sent to the Titan’s Tower.”
Tim blinks. “Titans Tower?”
“He will be safe there. It’s only a matter of days.”
“And he can’t stay in the Manor because?”
Now that gets a genuine groan out of Batman. “Tim… This is Dick in the early months of his arrival. Before he made his peace with letting Tony Zucco live. Before he healed from what happened. And now we are dealing with another crime lord, and he knows that.”
“You think he’ll go after Red Hood? Really?”
“I know he will go after Red Hood.”
“But the Manor is…”
“He located a dozen ways to escape the Manor in as many days. It’s entirely possible he still remembers those, and will be more than capable of finding more. Better he is in the Titans Tower, with enough novelty to distract him. And no, I can’t leave you babysitting him.”
“That’d be because?”
“…I have experience leaving a frustrated young Dick Grayson with babysitters before. Including Alfred and multiple Justice League members.”
“What.”
“Ask Alfred for the stories. Especially the ones involving Hal Jordan. It should keep you occupied long enough.”
……………………………….
Jason has heard about something going down between the Bats and some new magic user Rogue, but he didn’t really bother to get all the details.
Much as he hates to admit it, Bruce and Goldie make a pretty good team (at least, at capturing bad guys – at keeping them captured…not so much).
They’d have been able to deal with whatever two bit sorcerer it was this time. And sure, the idiot is now in Arkham and the Bats have all gone back to the cave.
That’s all the detail he gets, and that’s all the detail he needs.
Good. At least the distraction is out of the way, he doesn’t want anything diverting the Bat’s focus from him and what he is about to do.
Not that the big bad bat would be able to do anything about the next phase of his mission. That is the whole point.
Let him know what happens when he lets little birds fly too far… Let the Replacement know what it actually means to be Robin, what could happen to him.
(Some part of him scoffs at the idea – the kid has been Robin for almost two years, he’s with the freaking Titans, he’d have already faced things way way more threatening than some crime lord hunting him – but the Green is quick to silence it).
For a little bit there he was worried he’d have to improvise, thanks to the new player in town. But now that nuisance is taken care of.
He has seen the Batplane take off, and it doesn’t really need much detective skill to guess where it is headed (and of course, his contact in San Francisco confirms the arrival at the Tower).
Right. Time to get this little show on the road.
…………………………………
Dick is bored.
The Titans Tower is nice and all, but there isn’t anyone to talk to.
It was fun for the first few hours, everyone cooing over him, taking photos, going out for ice cream and Superboy (Superman’s son? They just said it was complicated…) taking him flying and all, but now the Titans have got a Mission Alert from somewhere and everyone’s gone.
Dick tried his best to charm them into taking him, then tried to stow away, but neither worked (stupid Kryptonian supersenses..). So now he is stuck in the empty Tower.
Okay, to be fair, there’s plenty of stuff to look around and all… But come on! He’s bored!
Dick is more than a little tempted to press the emergency button Batman gave him in case something goes wrong.
Hey, he is threatened with death by boredom, that is an emergency, right?
It is right about then that all the lights go off. Then comes on again, but it is all dull red. Like in Star Trek when the Red Alert comes on.
This is the same, Dick realizes.
Red Alert! Wow! The Tower is under attack!
Donna showed him how to work the computers, so it takes Dick only a couple of minutes to coax up the security cam visuals.
Someone is trying to break in! Someone crouched in the little chamber between the inner and outer doors, tinkering with the code entry panel! Hacking! Like in the movies!
Dick is. Thrilled.
This is so cool! Like Home Alone!
He takes a closer look. And that’s when the game gets even better. Red Hood! The guy Batman said he and Red Robin was going after! The guy who’s supposed to be after Tim!
Dick takes a second look to make sure. This is too good to be true. He blinks and looks again. Nothing changes.
It’s Red Hood! And he’s coming right here!
Dick grins. It is an expression several Gotham Rogues remember with a shudder.
Now, Dick knows he is supposed to press the emergency button, call Batman in. But… Hey, he’s only supposed to do that if things go wrong, right? Nothing’s gone wrong yet!
So, of course he doesn’t have to press the button. Even Batman can’t argue against that logic. Now…about dealing with Red Hood…
There’s plenty of stuff in the armoury, and Dick knows the code, he saw Kon enter it, but most of the stuff in there is too heavy for him to lift.
Plus, he doesn’t really want to kill Red Hood. Batman may want to question him. And more important, that won’t be quite so much fun.
After all, Dick is supposed to stay here for a couple of days till the spell reverses and he grows up again, right?
If he keeps Red Hood without killing him he’ll have someone to play with! He could interrogate him!
Okay. Change of plans.
“Criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot”
For someone at least four years away from hitting puberty, Dick manages a credible impression of Batman’s growl as he rushes off to make preparations.
This is going to be so much fun!
………………………………
Jason curses under his breath. Damn, they did upgrade the Tower security a bit while he was dead. It’s taking him a bit too long to hack through. If the Replacement notices him, if the system upgrades are good enough to notify him what is going on…
Just as Jason is about to reconsider the whole plan, the panel clicks.
Yes! That worked! Jason grins as the door slides open to admit him. Now for the hunt. Now to see what the replacement is worth.
He’s not going to actually hurt the kid, he tells himself. Just rough him up a little. Nothing worse than what Robin normally takes on a regular night out.
Hell, probably better than he gets during those Teen Titans missions, if those are still anything like the ones he remembers Dick going on.
He won’t hurt the kid.
He makes that sentence a promise, a warning to the Green surging in the corners of his eyes. Sometimes the Green takes over. Like how he ended up with those duffle bags…
He’s still not entirely sure what happened there, and what he knows is more the result of some personal CSI time than actual memory.
Nah, nothing like that’s gonna happen again. Not here. Just a little fun.
Jason Todd, Red Hood, steps into the Titans Tower. Everything is ready, the stage set for his grand entrance, he has rehearsed the monologue a dozen times now.
Sure, maybe the whole Robin costume under his outfit may not have been that great an idea given how much it is itching (and maybe he should have just ordered a larger size online, waiting time be damned, it’s squeezing his pecs).
But still, it should help with the overall effect. The whole monologue just doesn’t work if it is Red Hood going off on it.
He knows, he’s taped it to watch both ways.
Red Hood doesn’t really have the right look for that kind of monologue, that whole leather-and-guns look is made for Bond one-liners.
The Dead Robin ™ delivering that monologue, wearing the colours he died in? Now that has just the right amount of pathos. Jason knows this stuff, okay?
Right. Step into the Tower.
At this point in the plan, he had options ready to take the Baby Titans out of action, but of course, this time they have obliged by getting themselves out of the way first. Nice.
He can feel eyes on him. That is a sense he developed in the streets, long before Batman or Robin. You needed it, to last two years in Gotham alley ways.
Yeah, someone is definitely watching. Jason grins.
Okay, the little replacement isn’t too rusty. He’s figured out someone is coming… Right, then.
No need to postpone the show, now that he has his captive audience. Sure, the brat will be expecting Red Hood… so time to let him know who exactly he is dealing with. Who exactly is hunting him.
The Green pulses a bit too strongly at the thought, and for a moment Jason almost reconsiders the plan – when the green is this strong, he tends to kind of… lose track for a bit
. Oh, come on. Too late for second thoughts. He can handle this. Jason takes off the Red Hood helmet with a practiced flourish (very practiced – he had had Talia give him tips).
Yeah, Replacement, recognise me?
“There is no statue for me in the Hall of Titans” he begins.
Sure, he hasn’t actually gone there to check, but given Superboy posted it on tiktok last week, he did get a good look at the stupid place.
“I was a Titan too.”
He unzips the jacket, revealing the colours beneath.
…………………….
That is the moment Dick stops listening.
Actually he was starting to get a bit interested in the whole thing, given Red Hood had some style. He reminded Dick a bit of the Shakespeare reciter they sometimes used for filler. But even more drama queen.
So, Dick was okay with watching – till he saw what the bastard is wearing.
Robin. Robin colours. A freaking crime lord is wearing their colours!
It was bad enough when he thought Tim’s calling himself Robin, but at least Tim’s a good guy? And his brother? But this guy?
Freaking Red Hood is wearing his colours?
Dick sees red.
……………………………………
Jason, blissfully unaware that his monologue is going unheard, continues as he slowly, slowly (as rehearsed, with too many unfortunate Assassins as witnesses and Ra’s rolling his eyes in the background) strolls down the corridor.
He is giving the Replacement time to prepare. That is fine. He should have time to prepare.
That is only going to make him feel the helplessness even worse when he finally gets beaten down. When he understands no kid is going to be able to actually win in this business.
“…they said I wasn’t tough enough to be Robin.”
He senses movement behind him and whirls around, expecting to see the Replacement attempting an ambush.
Huh. Nothing? He definitely heard…
Hey, he left his jacket where he shed it! Why is it here now?
“Wait, what…”
There’s a hole torn in the jacket. Right above where the heart would be if it was being worn.
Wow. As threats go, pretty much a classic one. But, hey, did freaking Robin drop a death threat on him?
Jason… is now kinda having second thoughts about shedding his Hood armour. The Robin suit is from Party City, not really close to the high tech WE-made armour he was used to wearing.
But… Hey. He is going up against his freaking replacement. The day he needs Robin or Hood level armour to deal with a snot nosed brat, that’s the day he’s hanging up the suit for good.
That is when the lights go off. Okay, he did put the Tower on lockdown, but that doesn’t turn off the lights, right?
The Alert has everything go all Red Lighting Star Trek style (that particular design has to have been Dickhead’s idea, he will swear to that anywhere), but it doesn’t turn off the lights. Now that would be just silly.
The helmet has night vision and he turns it on, but seriously, that will put a crimp in his plans.
He doesn’t have night vision in the domino mask. And Red Hood’s helmet plus Robin Uniform? Ugh. Nope.
He’ll definitely have to turn the lights on before going for the monologue. Or at least get a few flashlights set up right.
Jason is so busy readjusting the stage directions in his head that it takes him a moment to consider just why the lights are off in the first place.
Maybe he screwed something up hacking the Tower? The lights must have gotten caught in the shutdown or something.
Whatever. It will only add to the Replacement’s terror, he thinks with a grin. The Green pulses a little too eagerly at the thought.
And then the giggle sounds.
Jason freezes in his tracks.
Just a giggle. Childish, high pitched. Almost maniacally cheerful. And very very out of place.
For a moment he thinks he’s having one of those flashback episodes again. But nah. This isn’t the Clown’s cackle. Just a kid’s giggle.
What. And where did it come from, anyway?
He turns in a circle where he stands, eyes scanning every dark corner. Nothing. Nothing visible, at any rate.
Did the Titans have someone who could turn invisible? But they are all away on the mission or what not, right?
Plus, whoever laughed…definitely didn’t sound old enough to be a Teen Titan.
It almost sounded like it came from the air above him.
…………………………………
Dick honestly hadn’t planned the giggle.
He just couldn’t help it when he saw Red Hood’s startled freeze-up moment on walking in. What, he didn’t plan on the lights being off?
He must have some kind of Night Vision in that stupid red bucket over his head, because he fiddles with it a bit then looks again.
Dick has had to fiddle with his own night vision goggles a bit to get them to fit. Too big for him. But with the straps adjusted a little more than they are supposed to be adjusted, it’s working fine.
And the reaction to the giggle?
Red Hood almost jumped out of his skin! Wuss. Sure, look around, Red Bucket, you ain’t gonna see me.
The vents of the Titans Tower are not large enough to fit an adult or even a teenager, but Dick is pretty small even for his age. No way Red Hood can get him in the vents even if he figures out where Dick is hiding.
……………………………….
Okay. This is fine. This is perfectly fine.
He must have imagined the giggle. Or maybe one of the Baby Titans left the TV on before rushing off.
Never mind that. You’re here for the Replacement.
The Tower feels…way too empty. Yeah, sure, it is empty, it’s supposed to be, except for him and the Replacement. But still.
Jason has been in the Tower often enough. The place is hella creepy when empty, especially with the lights off (Jason is not proud to admit he spent about seven and a half minutes fiddling with the lights hoping to switch them on).
The thing is, Jason has been in plenty creepy places before, ‘kay? Hell, he got dunked in a freaking Lazarus Pit and got trained by the League of Assassins. You don’t get much more creepiness exposure than that.
But… Well. Maybe it’s just the plain incongruity of the bright shades in the Tower and the current look. Damn place looks like the abandoned nursery school in the horror movies.
Fuck. He’s creeping himself out. And not even a trace of the Replacement yet.
………………………………..
Okay, the Replacement has obviously hidden somewhere, Jason tells himself. That is kind of better survival instincts than Robins are known to possess, so, yay?
That’s the logical solution. The Replacement heard or spotted him trying to break in, pressed the panic button or whatever he’s got, and is now holed up somewhere waiting for Batdad or Big Brother Dickie to swoop in and save the day.
Tough cookies, baby bird. No signals going in or out of the Tower. All exits locked. No one is coming, kiddo. It’s just you and me.
No one is coming.
Okay, that phrase was supposed to make the Replacement nervous. Jason has absolutely no idea why a chill goes up his own spine when he says that.
………………………………….
Nope. Nope, nope, nope.
He’s not seeing this. Fuck his luck, he’s not seeing this.
Jason wants to rub his eyes, but that will mean taking off the helmet and cutting off night vision. And nah, that’s absolutely not an option here, thank you very much.
He settles for squeezing his eyes shut really tight for a moment and looking again. Yep, the monitor room. The place where he expected to find the replacement.
The monitor room freaking soaked in blood.
Like, it looks like someone re-enacted the Texas Chainsaw Massacre in there. There’s blood on the floor, blood on the chairs, blood on the walls, there’s blood even on the freaking ceiling.
And there’s bits of cloth scattered around. Bits of cloth that looks like they might have come from a Robin uniform.
Bits of cloth soaked in blood and looking like something chewed and spat them out.
And worst, there’s… there’s freaking bits of flesh lying around.
Jason can’t identify any body part, there isn’t enough left for that, but it’s definitely flesh. Flesh that’s clearly been chewed up. Chewed up to freaking literal minced meat.
And now Jason does have to take off the helmet, and barely makes it to the nearest trashcan before his lunch makes a reappearance.
………………………
Dick giggles again in the vents. Unfortunately, Red Hood is too busy retching to notice.
City boy. Anyone would think he’s never seen blood before, the guy’s supposed to be a freaking crime lord!
It isn’t even real blood, just the fake stuff Beast Boy brought over for their Halloween prank and had left over.
Dick was afraid Red Hood – being a crime lord and familiar with blood and all that – would figure out it wasn’t real, so he had to add a bit of stage dressing to add realism.
Hey, it isn’t like Tim needs those many spare costumes. And hopefully no one will mind he took some of the raw hamburger meat from the fridge…
The way it looks, though, he could well have skipped all that. Red Hood is a freaking wuss. Yellow belly.
Ooh, this is gonna be fun!
………………………………….
“Okay, okay, okay” Jason practically chants as he straightens up from the trashcan. “It’s gonna be okay…”
Okay?!? Something freaking ATE Robin! And it’s probably right there in the Tower with you!
Okay, okay, okay, he can solve this problem, he’s been in worse fixes-
Then something giggles again. This time right next to him. And he’s got the helmet, hence the night vision, off.
Jason screeches. And throws the helmet at it, out of sheer reflex.
Honestly, he blames the next move – in effect, bolting – on fight or flight reflexes. It is very rare that Jason chooses flight.
But then again, it is very rare that he finds himself pitted against literal freaking demons.
The temperature has dropped, chilling him to the bones. He can see his breath in front of him as he runs.
…………………..
Okay, Dick has to admit to himself that this move might have been a little riskier than necessary.
But then again, risk reduction too!
The guy has guns, and Batman has stressed so many times, scared and/or stupid people and guns are a very bad combination.
Given Red Hood clearly fits both categories, it is Robin’s duty to remove the guns from the equation ASAP. And the best time to take the guns is of course right now, when he’s bent over retching.
Andy at the circus had taught him just the right way to snatch stuff before Mr Haly found out and fired him for pickpocketing during the shows.
Dick still thinks that was a little mean, but hey, he hasn’t forgotten the knack.
Bruce thinks he is the one who taught Dick. No problem, it was fun having Bruce teach him anyway.
Red Hood doesn’t even notice as his guns disappear from their holsters. Probably because he’s too busy throwing up.
Gross. But makes it easy.
And hey, if Dick can replace Batman’s smoke bombs with glitter bombs while the man is wearing his utility belt, messing with this lame wannabe crime lord is a clinch.
He can’t believe Bruce and Tim are worried about this guy.
…………………………………………….
Jason barely catches himself in time – he almost ran right into its mouth.
He can see only the silhouette of the thing, even after his eyes have more or less adjusted to the darkness, and Jason is thankful he can’t see it more clearly.
The thing looks like the corpse of a child, and that is exactly what he takes it for at first.
Till he remembers even the new Robin isn’t this tiny.
The thing is covered in blood. And…twisted.
That’s the only word to describe it. Its head is turned almost all the way round on its neck or so it seems. Its limbs are bent in ways that should be impossible for a human body.
And it is still moving! Crab-crawling, to be precise, the bend and twisted limbs moving with an eerie grace and speed. Moving towards Jason.
No! No, no, no, he didn’t fucking crawl out of his damn grave to get eaten by some mini eldritch horror!
His fingers scramble for his guns…and find nothing.
His guns have vanished. Melted into thin air.
He is defenceless before the Thing that has snuck into the Titans Tower and devoured Robin (along with whichever Baby Titans might have been around…)
Jason chooses the only sensible option. He runs.
…………………………………………
It is Kon, of all people, who alerts them.
Halfway through their mission, it has apparently dawned on the team that maybe leaving Baby Dick Grayson alone in the Tower may not have been the most responsible option.
Turning back being out of the question, it is settled to just phone it in and have the Bats deal with it.
Tim, immediately on receiving the call from his sheepish team, calls Dick. Only to discover the Tower on Lockdown, with no signals going in or out.
Damn. Time to call Bruce.
Bruce’s response is more exasperation and resigned acceptance than anything else. “…should have known.”
“Um, what?”
“Dick probably got bored. We didn’t start him on ADHD treatment till eleven.”
“You think Baby Nightwing put the Tower on lockdown?”
“I think we should get in there. ASAP.”
“Um, Red Hood?”
“He can wait. Everything considered, eight-year-old Dick Grayson unsupervised in the Titans Tower is the greater threat here.”
………………………………..
Titans Tower hasn’t gone through all that many modifications while he was underground, but there’s been enough layout changes.
Or maybe it’s just the darkness. Or the Thing is messing with him, making him run in circles.
Whatever the cause, Jason currently has absolutely no idea where he is. And more importantly, no idea how to get to the exits.
Not that getting to the exits will by itself help, he’ll have to remove his own lockdown first…
Fuck his life. What the hell did he lock himself in with?
The next moment has Jason giving serious consideration to the idea it is hell itself. Because it is at that point the singing begins.
“Ring-a-ring o’ Rosies…”
It’s a kid singing. A little kid. And the voice is coming from somewhere ahead of him, in the hallway. Which, even with his currently limited vision, he can see is empty.
“Pockets full o’ posies…”
Fuck, now it is coming closer! Back off, back off, back off!!!
“Ashes, ashes…”
Nope, nope, nope, it’s too close!
And there’s absolutely nothing to be seen. Jason flails about, desperately trying to convince himself it’s just something invisible (not that an invisible monster that has just had Robin for a snack is much of a consolation either…)
“ALL FALL DOWN!!!”
It’s one inch away from Jason. Just as the crawling, twisted Thing appears again at the end of the hallway.
And that is when he breaks, leaping right over the staircase and bolting.
………………………………..
Dick grins.
Bruce always says his ventriloquism skills (okay, he’s got only like, a month’s coaching from Erika) aren’t good enough to be used in the field, not reliably enough, but hey, look at the evidence!
……………………………………………
Jason runs into the Zeta room just as Batman arrives.
It is a testament to his panic that Jason Todd, Red Hood, on his Vengeance Quest, basically leaps straight into Batman’s arms Scooby-Doo style.
“Don’t let it get me!!!”
“Jason?!”
“It ate Robin! It probably ate all the Teen Titans!”
“What? How, why, you-“ Bruce, bewildered, takes a step towards the door.
Jason grabs onto his arm. “NO! Don’t go there! It killed them all!”
“What, what killed who? Jason? You’re-“
“Yeah, I’m alive and two foot taller and there’s a freaking monster in there!”
“Monster?” Bruce is on immediate Batman mode, surprise resurrections to be explored later.
Jason latches onto him. “No! Dad, don’t go in there, call Superman, call Wonder Woman, hell, call all JLA! It killed all the Teen Titans! It ate Robin!”
“What ate Robin?” Tim asks.
Jason turns to him with wild eyes “The Monster! It- What. You. Robin.”
Tim almost yelps and dives right back into the Zeta tube when Jason grabs hold of him. The no-longer-so-dead Robin runs his hands all over Tim’s face as if trying to make sure he’s really there, then hugs him tight.
“You’re alive?!”
“Isn’t that what we should be asking you?”
“Then who did it eat?”
“Dick!” Bruce darts to the door, evading Jason’s frantic grab.
And the Thing ™ appears at the doorway.
“Hi, B. Hi, Red Robin. Can I play with Hood some more before you take him away?”
Jason screeches. Again.
………………………………
“That. That is. Was. Is Dick Grayson.”
Tim nods. “He should be back to normal in a couple of days.”
“Oh God. Two more days?”
“Hey, he’s adorable! He’s a baby!”
“He almost put me back in the grave!”
“Way I figure, you went there to try and put me in a grave.”
“I was just gonna rough you up a bit!”
“Right, ‘cause Lazarus temper tantrums are sooo controllable.”
Jason wishes he could refute that. He has to settle for “Hey, you’re Robin, you’re supposed to be tough enough to handle some psycho after your blood!”
“You’re Robin and you couldn’t handle a baby!”
“I was just going easy on him!”
“You do realise Titans Tower has security footage, right?”
“Please shut up.”
Jason takes off his shirt to check for bruises. Tim’s eyes widen. “That. Is that supposed to be a Robin suit?”
Jason groans. “It… It looked better when I bought it?”
Another button pops off. They really don’t make Robin costumes in adult sizes. And most of the good Halloween stuff was sold out already.
“You were planning to fight me in that?”
“I had it all choreographed!”
“Dude. You actually survived Dick seeing you in this? He’d literally have put you back in your grave if we had gotten there a bit later.”
“What. Why-“
“What, you think you’re the only one who got a complex about getting replaced?”
……………………………
“Dick” Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the inevitable headache “Why didn’t you press the emergency button?”
“You said to press it if something went wrong! Nothing did!”
Jason groans. “You know, I can’t even argue with the gremlin on that.”
Dick grins. “Told you! Even Red Riding Hood agrees!”
“Red… Riding…”
“Isn’t that who you’re named after?”
The Green seems to have deserted him in terror of Baby Dick Grayson.
“Not really” Bruce tries to come to the rescue. “To get back to the point-“
“Hood, do cut off heads roll well?”
“What.”
“I mean, in the story the headless horsemen are supposed to play polo with the heads they cut off – you know, if you see the headless horseman riding he will come after you and cut off your head – so, do they roll well? You know, like a ball? Or is the stump an issue? D’you have to, like, shave off the neck to make it really round? Do you have any more heads left? Can you show me? Can we check if they roll well?”
Jason collapses into the nearest chair.
Batman places a soothing hand on his shoulder.