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[DC Comics - AU] The Road Between
Expanding on Five Cities Tim Drake Never Lived In, this fic centers on Tim Drake's life as a freelance agent in Middleton, Colorado... and how he feels upon coming back to Gotham to pull a favor for Batman and Robin. idk, man, I just had fun writing this. ♥
Title: The Road Between
Fandom: DC Comics + Kim Possible (crossover)
Universe: Being Myself
Summary: It's been three years since Tim last walked into the Batcave... three years since he last was part of the Batfamily... and three years since he bothered with a secret identity. No wonder, then, that he feels like he's walking the road between.
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is... well, actually, I don't own any of this. Kim Possible belongs to Disney; Tim Drake and his friends belong to DC Comics. I'm just having fun with them and this fanfic, okay?
Three years. Three whole years since he'd last entered the Batcave. It'd felt like an eternity. Tim took a deep breath as he navigated the familiar staircase downstairs. Some things - like the costumes lined up in the corner - never changed. Wait. There was Cass's costume...
Why was it there? Was she no longer Batgirl? Tim didn't want to think he'd started some kind of crazy trend. It'd only been three years! His dad wanted him to "be himself," so... he did. Instead of pretending, hiding, swearing up and down that he wasn't a superhero... Tim shouted it to the rooftops. Yes! He wanted to save people. Protect them. Defend them from the dangers of the world.
Funny how once he revealed himself as a freelance agent and became the new leader of Team Possible in Kim's and Ron's absence, no one cared. Even Dana remarked that "perhaps people really didn't mind." (His father? Heh, that was another story altogether. Everyone was well-aware that Jack hated how his son put his neck on the line every single night.)
Tim gently pressed his gloved fingers against the glass case. Where was she? Where was... well, everyone? He hadn't felt Batman's - Bruce's presence - in the room this whole time. The place almost felt abandoned.
"It's been a while."
Swerving, Tim found himself face-to-face with a familiar redhaired woman. He grinned. How long had it been since he'd last seen--- three years. Right. Funny how three long years can make such a huge difference. (Sure, he'd kept in touch with emails and phone calls, but meeting her in the flesh? Was such a huge difference.) He leaned in and gently embraced her. "Hey Babs. Sorry it's been so long. Work and school've kept me busy."
She hugged him back, "I saw. You've made headlines quite a bit."
"Really?" Tim let go of the embrace and climbed onto an empty table. Leave the Batcave to eliminate chairs! And... well, most other useful things. Putting in a mental note to speak to Alfred about seating arrangements, Tim kicked his feet and shrugged at Barbara. "No one at school ever cares. They're just kinda like, 'Mr. Drake! If you cut my class to go save the world again, you had better finish that history chapter first!' or... something."
That earned him a hearty chuckle from Babs. "Your parents.... have they adjusted well to your new decision?"
"Dana's fine with it," Tim nonchalantly shrugged. It was the truth: Dana wholeheartedly supported Tim in nearly everything he did, from joining the soccer team to spending Spring Break in Gotham with Ives and Zoanne to... well, a million other things. "Dad finally got around to coping with it."
Babs pressed her lips, "From what I've heard, it sounds like him."
Yeah, well... Tim frowned. The more he talked about his new life - the life he'd carved for himself in Middleton, Colorado - the more he realized just how much things had changed. Here, supervillains didn't care if Tim lied or cheated or stole or even did his homework. (He remembered his first meeting with Lord Monkey Fist: the guy wouldn't even fight until Tim completed his AP US History homework. Right in front of the guy's eyes!)
"I suppose so," Tim replied quietly. "Enough about me. ... Why'd you give me a call? It sounded urgent."
Immediately, Babs's face darkened. She brushed her bangs out of her face as she spun her wheelchair around and stared at the giant computer screen before her. "It's about Dick---Batman---"
"I was at Bruce's funeral." Tim now stood up, walking forward and leaning on Bab's chair. "You don't have to pretend around me. I know he's dead."
... Or alive. Or whatever superheroes were calling themselves this week. The moment the thought popped into his head, Tim immediately tried to banish it. What nonsense! Death was death; it needed to be mourned and thought of as something that didn't last more than a year. Instead, it was starting to feel like a revolving door--no, no. He would have none of that! Absolutely none!
What utter crap his mind was coming up with. Sure, wouldn't everyone like to pretend that Bruce was alive? That he was secretly stuck in time and that it'd be easy to pull him out? The world just didn't work that way.
"I know," Babs murmured. "But... you owe us a favor. Dick and Damian're captured in a warehouse downtown. Red Hood and Scarlet have them."
Tim raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her. "Seriously? I got called for that?"
Sheepishly, Babs shrugged, "I already have Batgirl working on another case. You're the only backup I have."
He noticed the lack of a name - typically, Babs would've referred to her as "Cass." So she really was replaced! What the heck happened here while he was out? Tim nodded, slinging his backpack across his shoulders. "Fine." He put his Bluetooth headphones on and double-checked them. "Give me the coordinates? I'll be there in a flash."
Babs wryly smiled. "You've changed."
Had he? Tim returned the smile, "I hadn't noticed," as he downloaded the coordinates into his smartphone and jumped onto his old motorcycle. It'd been... again, three years. Middleton didn't need motorbikes; Tim could chase villains down just fine with his old, slightly beat-up Ford.
Babs watched him disappear into the night sky. Then, she went back to her computer and hurriedly typed a few commands into the keyboard.
"He's grown up," She murmured quietly. "... I think you'd really be proud if you were here, Bruce."
*
This warehouse? Sure wasn't hard to find. Slipping his motorcycle helmet off, Tim quietly parked his vehicle and climbed the outside staircase into the abandoned warehouse. Instinctively, his training with Bruce all came back. Hide behind those large boxes; strain to hear for signs of life; and be as quiet as humanly possible. Why couldn't he hear Bruce in Middleton? ... Oh, right, because Bruce probably wouldn't have taken Tim's archrivals seriously in the first place. (Not even Tim took Quiz Kid seriously. How could he? Quiz Kid just wanted to be evil so that he could catch his girlfriend's attention.)
Silently, Tim crept onto the second floor. No one seemed to be around: he was the only sign of life. He pulled out his flashlight and continued to move down the empty corridors. These hallways were bunches of empty offices; no one'd come back here during the night.
His bones could feel the call back to his old lifestyle. Even his face itched, as if it wanted his mask back. Hide his identity! The world could blackmail Bruce forever if they found out that his assistant came back here tonight! Find the cape! Grab the collapsible staff!
No, he had to remind himself. Robin - his Robin - no longer existed. He is Tim Drake, the Boy Who Can Do Anything. How can they trace this freelance agent back to Bruce Wayne, beyond the "they were both Gotham socialites" connection? No one could. ... Okay, wait, that was a lie, Babs or Wade could probably trace it back. But they were different: they knew of Tim's past lives. His dual identities.
Everything was so much simpler in Middleton. Stealth like this didn't exist to an impossible degree. Tim almost forgot to breathe a couple of times as he nearly ran into security guards. (Not that bumbling, clumsy guards like these could protect anything!) Remember, this is Gotham. Kids here take martial arts as part of the public school curriculum. This city was dangerous. Not like the kiddy game danger of Middleton.
Oh, but how Tim wished it were now! He liked the challenge of Gotham - how he had to be vigilant for even the smallest sign of danger - and the adrenaline rush that followed, but when it all came down to it? His new lifestyle wasn't that bad. Even Ives had gotten into the act a couple of times. (Batman would have never let someone like Ives - "an innocent civilian" - fight crime.)
"Tt! You're not getting away with this!"
Damn, Damian was loud. Tim cursed under his breath. Of all the people in Gotham he had to rescue, he had to get the kid who tried to kill him. No hellos, no "hi, I'm Damian," but an assassination attempt! What was with parenting skills these days?
"Oh, but I think I am, little one."
... Jason.
Tim hadn't said so back in the Batcave, but he knew that Babs wanted Tim because of his role as mediator, the one who had managed to escape Bruce's training and survive in the real world. Sure, Dick'd done it before Tim, but Tim? He'd been the only one who revealed himself... who could still keep going even if the Batman name was tarnished. What did it matter to a Middleton boy who could do anything?
He picked up the pace as he walked--no, ran down these corridors. Their voices were getting louder! Without hesitation, Tim kicked the door down. Robin would've snuck past Red Hood. Robin would've silently had dealt with Red Hood and Scarlet. Tim had to remind himself: he wasn't Robin anymore, and besides... Tim Drake could do anything.
"You!" Red Hood swerved to meet Tim.
Grinning widely, Tim assumed a fighting stance. "Long time no see."
Immediately, Scarlet lunged towards him. Tim yawned and casually pinched a spot on her shoulder. In seconds, Scarlet collapsed. Red Hood stared.
"Pressure point," Tim explained cheerfully. "Now you're---" Whoa, wait, what. Dick and Damian - the city's current Dynamic Duo - had been stripped down to their underwear? In front of a makeshift webcam? Tim stared in complete and utter disbelief, "---stripping people for a bad porn movie?"
That so hadn't meant to come out of Tim's mouth; it was obvious from his incredibly beet-red face. At least Middleton's villains kept everything G-rated! (Honestly, it was like he was living in a Disney movie these days.) He stepped backwards and promptly fell onto the table.
Red Hood folded his arms, "Is that the best Tim Drake can do?"
"No." Firmly, Tim jumped off the table and swung towards Red Hood. "Give me all you've got. Nothing's impossible for a Possible!"
(The lines seemed to get cheesier every year.) Damian snorted, "Nothing's impossible? Where're you getting stuff this bad---" He narrowly dodged a computer mouse. Huffing, Damian grumbled, "Tt! What?"
"I don't think they want commentary from the peanut gallery," Dick sighed.
Damian narrowed his eyes at Dick, but amazingly said nothing else. Red Hood punched Tim's shoulder; the teen wonder winced. Tim kicked Red Hood's stomach and promptly stood on top of the man. Without warning, Tim fell from his high perch and crashed against the concrete floor.
Scarlet held a gun against Tim's ear. "Say goodnight."
Ohshi----Someone just dropped a giant stuffed elephant ontop of Scarlet. Then, without warning, more giant stuffed animals poured from the sky. Tim could only stare as both Red Hood and Scarlet were covered---no, assaulted with polar bears, ducks, tigers, lions, and.... was that a goose? Forgotten, the gun crashed and broke into tiny pieces.
"Sorry I'm late!" A blond teenager apologized as he landed in the menagerie of animals. Pushing his way past the tigers and the lions and giraffes, he gave Tim a high-five. "You wouldn't believe the traffic! Zoe and I---" The kid stopped and stared at the (nearly naked) other people in the room.
Bluntly, Ives sighed, "... You're kidding me. You came to Gotham to save Paris and Nicole Hilton?"
Tim sheepishly shrugged. "You know the Hiltons. They can be rather stupid--" He narrowly dodged two geese and a duck. "--at times."
"Good thing I brought clothes," Ives pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Taking his backpack off, he then knelt down and gently untied Dick and Damian from their positions. "... Huh. The quality of rope in Gotham stinks. Who would've guessed?"
"Really?" Tim leaned in and stared alongside his best friend. "Last time I got tied up, Lord Monkey Fist had the really soft kind. You know?"
"Yeah!" Ives nodded enthusiastically. "Don't forget about Lady Butterfly's collection. That was pretty sweet."
Dick blinked as he rose from the ground, "... You're talking about rope."
Seizing the oversized shorts and t-shirts from Ives, Damian hastily put them on. "What can we say? You know the Possibles. They can be rather weird---" He again ducked to miss a giraffe, "---at times."
Tim rolled his eyes, "At least we saved you from certain doom, brat." Silently, he then knelt down and put all evidence of Batman and Robin - their costumes, their gear, even the batarangs - deep into his backpack. Sure, it was bulging a little more than usual, but it was nothing Tim couldn't lie about.
"The car's ready when you guys are," Ives grinned. "I got permission from Dad to bring it over."
Tim hi-fived his best friend again, "It's better than my Ford."
It took Dick and Damian about five minutes to change, to inspect the place twice... and tie up Red Hood and Scarlet. (Ives called the police too while he was at it!)
Red Hood started, "I would've gotten away with it too---"
"We're not Scooby Doo, man," Ives snorted. "So don't bother. See you when you're not in jail!"
The four watched Red Hood and Scarlet's jail car disappear before they climbed into Ives's sand-colored sedan. Taking the front wheel, Ives happily turned the radio up. Tim grinned - trust Ives to pick out something like 3 Doors Down - and tapped his fingers to the beat.
Damian, as usual, grumbled the whole way home, but no one paid him any attention. Ives parked in the driveway of Wayne Manor-- "Dude! This means that Bruce Wayne owes us a favor!" -- and agreed to wait for Tim in the living room. The allure of Alfred's tea was just too strong, it seemed.
When Ives wasn't looking, the three crept downstairs into the Batcave. Tim swung onto the table, "So does stuff like that happen a lot?"
"We don't exactly get saved by stuffed animals often, if that's what you mean," Dick grinned, leaning in to ruffle Tim's hair. "So explain how Ives knows."
"He reads the news like normal people." Tim blinked. "Everyone in Middleton knows too."
"Oh." That quieted Dick. He crossed his arms and sat next to Babs as she pulled up some more information - no doubt, for the Birds of Prey or some other team - on the giant screen. After what seemed like eternity, Dick replied, "... You know, you seem so different."
Damian nodded, "You're stupider."
"No!" Dick nudged the kid. "I mean, he's more confident. Not afraid to try something new and completely different... and well, this is a different kind of routine, isn't it?"
Now that he put it that way... yeah, it was. Who knew that a move to a new city would have changed so much? When his father said to quit being Robin, Tim could've never guessed that it would've led to a move to Middleton... to meeting Kim Possible... to becoming one of the world's finest freelance agents. Instead of hiding who he was, everyone knew. And absolutely no one cared.
His archenemies called Christmas truces to sing songs around a fireplace. Everyone sobbed over Charlie Brown specials together. Evil was just a day job - or a cure for boredom - in many instances, and in the end? Even Poison Ivy and Harl had been entranced by this world. (They'd moved to Middleton a year and a half ago.)
"It's good, though." Tim nodded, smiling slightly. He kicked his feet, "I think I actually like it."
Taking his backpack off, Tim dumped the evidence - every single last bit of it - onto the table. He then shrugged, "I figured it'd be better if Ives didn't know."
Babs smiled ruefully, "But you want him to know, don't you?"
"Maybe some day," Tim nodded, again swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. "But right now? I don't know if I'm ready... if he's ready... if Team Possible can handle that."
He turned to leave. Saluting everyone, Tim grinned, "See you guys later. It so wasn't the drama." He didn't want to look back. If he did, he knew he'd hesitate: he'd think twice about wanting this lifestyle back. About hiding who he was. About the symbolism of every single costume. About the burdens he'd resume carrying on his shoulders.
It'd taken him three whole, long years to even let that burden disappear off his chest. He couldn't afford to take it back. So instead? He kept walking forward.
Ives greeted him - "Hey, Tim! You ready?" - and Tim swung his arm around his friend's shoulder. They walked out towards the street together.
Baby steps, they said. Baby steps towards a new life, a new future. Tim closed his eyes as he climbed into the car. If it took baby steps, then he just took the biggest one ever... it wasn't quite abandonment, but it wasn't quite friendship either. He now walked the road between... and as far as he was concerned? He didn't want to get off.
Title: The Road Between
Fandom: DC Comics + Kim Possible (crossover)
Universe: Being Myself
Summary: It's been three years since Tim last walked into the Batcave... three years since he last was part of the Batfamily... and three years since he bothered with a secret identity. No wonder, then, that he feels like he's walking the road between.
Disclaimer: The only thing I own is... well, actually, I don't own any of this. Kim Possible belongs to Disney; Tim Drake and his friends belong to DC Comics. I'm just having fun with them and this fanfic, okay?
Three years. Three whole years since he'd last entered the Batcave. It'd felt like an eternity. Tim took a deep breath as he navigated the familiar staircase downstairs. Some things - like the costumes lined up in the corner - never changed. Wait. There was Cass's costume...
Why was it there? Was she no longer Batgirl? Tim didn't want to think he'd started some kind of crazy trend. It'd only been three years! His dad wanted him to "be himself," so... he did. Instead of pretending, hiding, swearing up and down that he wasn't a superhero... Tim shouted it to the rooftops. Yes! He wanted to save people. Protect them. Defend them from the dangers of the world.
Funny how once he revealed himself as a freelance agent and became the new leader of Team Possible in Kim's and Ron's absence, no one cared. Even Dana remarked that "perhaps people really didn't mind." (His father? Heh, that was another story altogether. Everyone was well-aware that Jack hated how his son put his neck on the line every single night.)
Tim gently pressed his gloved fingers against the glass case. Where was she? Where was... well, everyone? He hadn't felt Batman's - Bruce's presence - in the room this whole time. The place almost felt abandoned.
"It's been a while."
Swerving, Tim found himself face-to-face with a familiar redhaired woman. He grinned. How long had it been since he'd last seen--- three years. Right. Funny how three long years can make such a huge difference. (Sure, he'd kept in touch with emails and phone calls, but meeting her in the flesh? Was such a huge difference.) He leaned in and gently embraced her. "Hey Babs. Sorry it's been so long. Work and school've kept me busy."
She hugged him back, "I saw. You've made headlines quite a bit."
"Really?" Tim let go of the embrace and climbed onto an empty table. Leave the Batcave to eliminate chairs! And... well, most other useful things. Putting in a mental note to speak to Alfred about seating arrangements, Tim kicked his feet and shrugged at Barbara. "No one at school ever cares. They're just kinda like, 'Mr. Drake! If you cut my class to go save the world again, you had better finish that history chapter first!' or... something."
That earned him a hearty chuckle from Babs. "Your parents.... have they adjusted well to your new decision?"
"Dana's fine with it," Tim nonchalantly shrugged. It was the truth: Dana wholeheartedly supported Tim in nearly everything he did, from joining the soccer team to spending Spring Break in Gotham with Ives and Zoanne to... well, a million other things. "Dad finally got around to coping with it."
Babs pressed her lips, "From what I've heard, it sounds like him."
Yeah, well... Tim frowned. The more he talked about his new life - the life he'd carved for himself in Middleton, Colorado - the more he realized just how much things had changed. Here, supervillains didn't care if Tim lied or cheated or stole or even did his homework. (He remembered his first meeting with Lord Monkey Fist: the guy wouldn't even fight until Tim completed his AP US History homework. Right in front of the guy's eyes!)
"I suppose so," Tim replied quietly. "Enough about me. ... Why'd you give me a call? It sounded urgent."
Immediately, Babs's face darkened. She brushed her bangs out of her face as she spun her wheelchair around and stared at the giant computer screen before her. "It's about Dick---Batman---"
"I was at Bruce's funeral." Tim now stood up, walking forward and leaning on Bab's chair. "You don't have to pretend around me. I know he's dead."
... Or alive. Or whatever superheroes were calling themselves this week. The moment the thought popped into his head, Tim immediately tried to banish it. What nonsense! Death was death; it needed to be mourned and thought of as something that didn't last more than a year. Instead, it was starting to feel like a revolving door--no, no. He would have none of that! Absolutely none!
What utter crap his mind was coming up with. Sure, wouldn't everyone like to pretend that Bruce was alive? That he was secretly stuck in time and that it'd be easy to pull him out? The world just didn't work that way.
"I know," Babs murmured. "But... you owe us a favor. Dick and Damian're captured in a warehouse downtown. Red Hood and Scarlet have them."
Tim raised an eyebrow as he turned to face her. "Seriously? I got called for that?"
Sheepishly, Babs shrugged, "I already have Batgirl working on another case. You're the only backup I have."
He noticed the lack of a name - typically, Babs would've referred to her as "Cass." So she really was replaced! What the heck happened here while he was out? Tim nodded, slinging his backpack across his shoulders. "Fine." He put his Bluetooth headphones on and double-checked them. "Give me the coordinates? I'll be there in a flash."
Babs wryly smiled. "You've changed."
Had he? Tim returned the smile, "I hadn't noticed," as he downloaded the coordinates into his smartphone and jumped onto his old motorcycle. It'd been... again, three years. Middleton didn't need motorbikes; Tim could chase villains down just fine with his old, slightly beat-up Ford.
Babs watched him disappear into the night sky. Then, she went back to her computer and hurriedly typed a few commands into the keyboard.
"He's grown up," She murmured quietly. "... I think you'd really be proud if you were here, Bruce."
This warehouse? Sure wasn't hard to find. Slipping his motorcycle helmet off, Tim quietly parked his vehicle and climbed the outside staircase into the abandoned warehouse. Instinctively, his training with Bruce all came back. Hide behind those large boxes; strain to hear for signs of life; and be as quiet as humanly possible. Why couldn't he hear Bruce in Middleton? ... Oh, right, because Bruce probably wouldn't have taken Tim's archrivals seriously in the first place. (Not even Tim took Quiz Kid seriously. How could he? Quiz Kid just wanted to be evil so that he could catch his girlfriend's attention.)
Silently, Tim crept onto the second floor. No one seemed to be around: he was the only sign of life. He pulled out his flashlight and continued to move down the empty corridors. These hallways were bunches of empty offices; no one'd come back here during the night.
His bones could feel the call back to his old lifestyle. Even his face itched, as if it wanted his mask back. Hide his identity! The world could blackmail Bruce forever if they found out that his assistant came back here tonight! Find the cape! Grab the collapsible staff!
No, he had to remind himself. Robin - his Robin - no longer existed. He is Tim Drake, the Boy Who Can Do Anything. How can they trace this freelance agent back to Bruce Wayne, beyond the "they were both Gotham socialites" connection? No one could. ... Okay, wait, that was a lie, Babs or Wade could probably trace it back. But they were different: they knew of Tim's past lives. His dual identities.
Everything was so much simpler in Middleton. Stealth like this didn't exist to an impossible degree. Tim almost forgot to breathe a couple of times as he nearly ran into security guards. (Not that bumbling, clumsy guards like these could protect anything!) Remember, this is Gotham. Kids here take martial arts as part of the public school curriculum. This city was dangerous. Not like the kiddy game danger of Middleton.
Oh, but how Tim wished it were now! He liked the challenge of Gotham - how he had to be vigilant for even the smallest sign of danger - and the adrenaline rush that followed, but when it all came down to it? His new lifestyle wasn't that bad. Even Ives had gotten into the act a couple of times. (Batman would have never let someone like Ives - "an innocent civilian" - fight crime.)
"Tt! You're not getting away with this!"
Damn, Damian was loud. Tim cursed under his breath. Of all the people in Gotham he had to rescue, he had to get the kid who tried to kill him. No hellos, no "hi, I'm Damian," but an assassination attempt! What was with parenting skills these days?
"Oh, but I think I am, little one."
... Jason.
Tim hadn't said so back in the Batcave, but he knew that Babs wanted Tim because of his role as mediator, the one who had managed to escape Bruce's training and survive in the real world. Sure, Dick'd done it before Tim, but Tim? He'd been the only one who revealed himself... who could still keep going even if the Batman name was tarnished. What did it matter to a Middleton boy who could do anything?
He picked up the pace as he walked--no, ran down these corridors. Their voices were getting louder! Without hesitation, Tim kicked the door down. Robin would've snuck past Red Hood. Robin would've silently had dealt with Red Hood and Scarlet. Tim had to remind himself: he wasn't Robin anymore, and besides... Tim Drake could do anything.
"You!" Red Hood swerved to meet Tim.
Grinning widely, Tim assumed a fighting stance. "Long time no see."
Immediately, Scarlet lunged towards him. Tim yawned and casually pinched a spot on her shoulder. In seconds, Scarlet collapsed. Red Hood stared.
"Pressure point," Tim explained cheerfully. "Now you're---" Whoa, wait, what. Dick and Damian - the city's current Dynamic Duo - had been stripped down to their underwear? In front of a makeshift webcam? Tim stared in complete and utter disbelief, "---stripping people for a bad porn movie?"
That so hadn't meant to come out of Tim's mouth; it was obvious from his incredibly beet-red face. At least Middleton's villains kept everything G-rated! (Honestly, it was like he was living in a Disney movie these days.) He stepped backwards and promptly fell onto the table.
Red Hood folded his arms, "Is that the best Tim Drake can do?"
"No." Firmly, Tim jumped off the table and swung towards Red Hood. "Give me all you've got. Nothing's impossible for a Possible!"
(The lines seemed to get cheesier every year.) Damian snorted, "Nothing's impossible? Where're you getting stuff this bad---" He narrowly dodged a computer mouse. Huffing, Damian grumbled, "Tt! What?"
"I don't think they want commentary from the peanut gallery," Dick sighed.
Damian narrowed his eyes at Dick, but amazingly said nothing else. Red Hood punched Tim's shoulder; the teen wonder winced. Tim kicked Red Hood's stomach and promptly stood on top of the man. Without warning, Tim fell from his high perch and crashed against the concrete floor.
Scarlet held a gun against Tim's ear. "Say goodnight."
Ohshi----Someone just dropped a giant stuffed elephant ontop of Scarlet. Then, without warning, more giant stuffed animals poured from the sky. Tim could only stare as both Red Hood and Scarlet were covered---no, assaulted with polar bears, ducks, tigers, lions, and.... was that a goose? Forgotten, the gun crashed and broke into tiny pieces.
"Sorry I'm late!" A blond teenager apologized as he landed in the menagerie of animals. Pushing his way past the tigers and the lions and giraffes, he gave Tim a high-five. "You wouldn't believe the traffic! Zoe and I---" The kid stopped and stared at the (nearly naked) other people in the room.
Bluntly, Ives sighed, "... You're kidding me. You came to Gotham to save Paris and Nicole Hilton?"
Tim sheepishly shrugged. "You know the Hiltons. They can be rather stupid--" He narrowly dodged two geese and a duck. "--at times."
"Good thing I brought clothes," Ives pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Taking his backpack off, he then knelt down and gently untied Dick and Damian from their positions. "... Huh. The quality of rope in Gotham stinks. Who would've guessed?"
"Really?" Tim leaned in and stared alongside his best friend. "Last time I got tied up, Lord Monkey Fist had the really soft kind. You know?"
"Yeah!" Ives nodded enthusiastically. "Don't forget about Lady Butterfly's collection. That was pretty sweet."
Dick blinked as he rose from the ground, "... You're talking about rope."
Seizing the oversized shorts and t-shirts from Ives, Damian hastily put them on. "What can we say? You know the Possibles. They can be rather weird---" He again ducked to miss a giraffe, "---at times."
Tim rolled his eyes, "At least we saved you from certain doom, brat." Silently, he then knelt down and put all evidence of Batman and Robin - their costumes, their gear, even the batarangs - deep into his backpack. Sure, it was bulging a little more than usual, but it was nothing Tim couldn't lie about.
"The car's ready when you guys are," Ives grinned. "I got permission from Dad to bring it over."
Tim hi-fived his best friend again, "It's better than my Ford."
It took Dick and Damian about five minutes to change, to inspect the place twice... and tie up Red Hood and Scarlet. (Ives called the police too while he was at it!)
Red Hood started, "I would've gotten away with it too---"
"We're not Scooby Doo, man," Ives snorted. "So don't bother. See you when you're not in jail!"
The four watched Red Hood and Scarlet's jail car disappear before they climbed into Ives's sand-colored sedan. Taking the front wheel, Ives happily turned the radio up. Tim grinned - trust Ives to pick out something like 3 Doors Down - and tapped his fingers to the beat.
Damian, as usual, grumbled the whole way home, but no one paid him any attention. Ives parked in the driveway of Wayne Manor-- "Dude! This means that Bruce Wayne owes us a favor!" -- and agreed to wait for Tim in the living room. The allure of Alfred's tea was just too strong, it seemed.
When Ives wasn't looking, the three crept downstairs into the Batcave. Tim swung onto the table, "So does stuff like that happen a lot?"
"We don't exactly get saved by stuffed animals often, if that's what you mean," Dick grinned, leaning in to ruffle Tim's hair. "So explain how Ives knows."
"He reads the news like normal people." Tim blinked. "Everyone in Middleton knows too."
"Oh." That quieted Dick. He crossed his arms and sat next to Babs as she pulled up some more information - no doubt, for the Birds of Prey or some other team - on the giant screen. After what seemed like eternity, Dick replied, "... You know, you seem so different."
Damian nodded, "You're stupider."
"No!" Dick nudged the kid. "I mean, he's more confident. Not afraid to try something new and completely different... and well, this is a different kind of routine, isn't it?"
Now that he put it that way... yeah, it was. Who knew that a move to a new city would have changed so much? When his father said to quit being Robin, Tim could've never guessed that it would've led to a move to Middleton... to meeting Kim Possible... to becoming one of the world's finest freelance agents. Instead of hiding who he was, everyone knew. And absolutely no one cared.
His archenemies called Christmas truces to sing songs around a fireplace. Everyone sobbed over Charlie Brown specials together. Evil was just a day job - or a cure for boredom - in many instances, and in the end? Even Poison Ivy and Harl had been entranced by this world. (They'd moved to Middleton a year and a half ago.)
"It's good, though." Tim nodded, smiling slightly. He kicked his feet, "I think I actually like it."
Taking his backpack off, Tim dumped the evidence - every single last bit of it - onto the table. He then shrugged, "I figured it'd be better if Ives didn't know."
Babs smiled ruefully, "But you want him to know, don't you?"
"Maybe some day," Tim nodded, again swinging his backpack onto his shoulders. "But right now? I don't know if I'm ready... if he's ready... if Team Possible can handle that."
He turned to leave. Saluting everyone, Tim grinned, "See you guys later. It so wasn't the drama." He didn't want to look back. If he did, he knew he'd hesitate: he'd think twice about wanting this lifestyle back. About hiding who he was. About the symbolism of every single costume. About the burdens he'd resume carrying on his shoulders.
It'd taken him three whole, long years to even let that burden disappear off his chest. He couldn't afford to take it back. So instead? He kept walking forward.
Ives greeted him - "Hey, Tim! You ready?" - and Tim swung his arm around his friend's shoulder. They walked out towards the street together.
Baby steps, they said. Baby steps towards a new life, a new future. Tim closed his eyes as he climbed into the car. If it took baby steps, then he just took the biggest one ever... it wasn't quite abandonment, but it wasn't quite friendship either. He now walked the road between... and as far as he was concerned? He didn't want to get off.
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