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Metas were often advised not to move to Gotham, especially if they planned to commit crimes. Batman was notorious for not taking any crap from Poison Ivy wannabes.
But that didn’t completely stop destructive metas from getting in, leading to this exact situation.
Tim looked dumbfounded down at paws. Paws.
Those were his limbs he found after scrambling back, black fur not doing much for the chill in the Gotham night.
What was possibly worse was his camera lying face down a few feet away from Tim. He let out a mournful noise, shocked even more when it came out as a pitiful meow.
Tim took a few steps forward, approaching the camera that was now his own size. Tim pawed at it, the start button not working.
His prized possession was broken, and Tim was going to die out here in the cold, all alone. Would his parents even notice? They were in Mexico for the next two months, so at least that long.
Well, if he could salvage one thing, it would be the sd card. It had far too many photos of Batman and Robin to be safe, exposing them more than anything else if a villain got his hands on it.
With fumbling small limbs, Tim hooked a claw into the card holder. It was painful to damage the outside of the sd card while pulling it out, teeth clenched into the plastic cover.
After a moment, the card popped out, Tim’s momentum propelling him onto his back. The precious cargo was in his mouth, but both Tim and his photos were far from safe.
It was tripping him up with everything being so big. Tim was struggling to navigate the streets, the distance he was traveling only aiding in tiring him.
Tim’s eyes drifted to a tiny nook in the brick wall, he couldn’t help thinking about how easy it would be to just… curl into the spot, just for a moment! He wouldn’t stay there for long, just enough… to…
Tim was out in moments, still curled up in the cold air.
~~~
Tim startled awake when he heard a soft cooing noise, posted just out of his nook. He didn’t mean to fall asleep, but he was relieved to find he was still curled around the sd card.
Another noise made Tim’s head snap up, ears pinned back.
“Hey kitty, it’s not safe out here. Too cold buddy.”
Tim recognised the voice suddenly, the voice Nightwing used to victims. Why was Nightwing here though? Tim was sure he was still in Bludhaven.
He suppressed a surprised yowl when a hand entered his space, gently running a finger over her back. Tim barely managed to grab the memory card before he was being manhandled out of the safe spot.
Tim completely froze when he came face to face with Dick Grayson, the hero cradling Tim like a precious jewel. Dick raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Hi kitty, whatcha got there?”
With no time to process, Tim wasn’t prepared for Dick to pluck the memory card right out of his mouth. Dick frowned down at it before pocketing it with a shrug.
“Whatever, I’ll look at it when I get home.” That single sentence made Tim’s heart sink. The only single highlight is that no one would be able to track it back to him if he stayed a cat. If they knew everything, Tim would be thrown into batjail. “I can’t leave you out here buddy, let’s get home.”
Whatever hopes Tim would be able to just wriggle out of this one were crushed as Dick gently cradled Tim, thinking him to be a stray kitten.
But against Dick was just so warm, and Tim was so, so tired.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Holy crap.” For the second time Tim was awoken by Nightwing’s voice.
There was a small heat source under him surrounded by soft fabric. He desperately didn’t want to open his eyes against the heavy comfort trying to sink him back under sleep.
“Is that a tiny child?” The choked voice of Robin made Tim raise his head suddenly, blue eyes wide. He was still a cat, but instead of the streets he was laid on top of a small cot, some sort of heat pack under the blanket draped over top.
His eyes snapped to the giant monitor, mouth going dry and heart picking up rapidly.
His face was plastered on the screen, mid-falling. Tim recognised just the night before, propelled off a small ledge after a stray beam of magic hit him.
Jason and Dick were focused on the screen, gasping individually when the next shot showed Tim, still falling, but this time it was a tiny black cat.
The camera must have decided it was the time for a photoshoot, one that would damn him to Arkham forever.
With the two teens distracted, Tim very quietly creeped over to the edge of the cot, looking around to see a way down.
His claws dug into soft fabric as he made his way down as stealthily as possible. But in a room with two highly trained vigilantes, Tim knew it was a lost cause for him to draw no attention.
Jason’s eyes widened comically when he looked back to see Tim on the ground before bolting in the opposite direction.
He heard footsteps behind him. “Hey kid, don’t move!”
Tim chanced a look behind him, but in the moments he was looking away, his small body slammed into a very solid object. It knocked him back with a yowl of surprise.
After that moment of shock, Tim craned his neck very slowly until he was looking up into the face of Batman, dark and looking as always. He was frozen, blue eyes locked on white lenses.
Tim let out a terrified squeak when Bruce reached down very slowly to scruff him. It felt a bit like when Bruce would grab his Robin’s by the back of their cape.
Bruce raised Tim face to face, both just staring intensely. After a few moments, Bruce sighed.
“Why is there a meta in my cave boys?” He embodied pure dad exasperated, looking over at both of them, various levels of sheepishness’.
Dick stepped to the side, gesturing to the photo of Tim as a human falling. “Not a meta, we think he was attacked by that magic user last night.”
Bruce let out a (probably practiced) long suffering sigh, adjusting Tim to a more comfortable position. “And what do you plan to do with this information?”
“Well all her other spells wore off after a day, so I assume we should wait for the kid to turn back so we should get his explanation for all… this.” As if on cue, Jason flipped to gallery mode, hundreds of photos of the bats out in costume.
Tim whimpered involuntarily at the sight of his best kept secret out in the open. Bruce’s attention snapped to Tim, his finger gently guiding Tim‘s chin to look up at him.
“Hey kiddo, once you turn back, I promise you’ll be safe.” He spoke so softly, so earnestly. Just those soothing words were like claws digging into his brain, trying to drag Tim back into his naive trust. “Just rest for now, okay?”
Tim’s heart was still thundering, but the soft rumble of Bruce’s voice made it hard for Tim to continue to be terrified.
Tim wasn’t tired, he had napped enough, but he still very hesitantly, very slowly pressed his feline face into Bruce’s chest, getting a very subtle surprised grunt.
It was exhausted being as tiny as a kitten but have human sized emotions.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Tim wasn’t able to track the time properly, no clocks around him. It felt like maybe an hour later when he felt an uncomfortable pull under his skin.
He was still being held in Bruce’s gentle grip, but he really didn’t want to end up as a human sprawled over his hero, so Tim started struggling.
Thankfully, Bruce got the memo and set Tim down on the cot, although he quickly stood up, hovering.
A burst of uncomfortable crawling around his neck made Tim yowl. A burst of light accompanied a wave of nausea, leaving Tim to fall to the ground, forehead against the floor.
Tim coughed, body shaking with the effort. Slowly, he raised his head to see instead of paws, his usual normal sized hands.
Shooting up, Tim felt his face, making sure there were no missing limbs or cat ears plastered to his head or something equally distressing.
No lingering black fur, or differences in the slightest.
Tim slumped in relief, knees digging into the ground being a reminder he had knees in the first place.
That still didn’t stop him from flinching when a hand came down to rest on his back. Tim’s head snapped up, already filled with tears. Everything was so overwhelming and Tim just wanted to go home.
“Please don’t send me to Arkham!” He wailed, burying his face in his hands and sobbing. “I wasn’t doing anything bad with the photos!”
Bruce’s big hands started rubbing soothing circles into Tim’s back. “Why do you think I’m sending you to Arkham?”
Tim sniffled, daring to peek up with red rimmed eyes. “Because- because the photos!” He cut himself off with another choked sob. “I promise I won’t be bad! I’ll go home, I live next door, you won’t even need to drive me! I’ll never go out again!”
As Tim babbled, he failed to realise Bruce had gone very still, as did the two silent spectators across the cave.
Midway through his sentence, Tim realised the pause in movement on his back and snapped his mouth closed with a click.
From across the room, Nightwing began to approach, Tim’s eyes locking onto his movements. In a matter of seconds, Dick was knelt in front of Tim, replacing Bruce’s hands with his own on his shoulders.
“Next door?”
Oh. Well crap.
It was over, Tim had blown it and it was final, Tim would be locked up in the cave forever.
Like a puppet with its strings cut, Tim slumped again, lip wobbling.
With barely any effort, Dick scooped Tim up from under his armpits like a particularly floppy cat.
Dick looked behind Tim to Bruce, a smile slowly crawling onto his face.
“You know, Jay always wanted a little brother.”