peektuttut | [RL, Bruce & Robin] Not Sure How I'm Gonna Do This All Again

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[RL, Bruce & Robin] Not Sure How I'm Gonna Do This All Again

There were days when school dragged on. When all Tim wanted to do was get out from between these brick walls and into the city, into uniform, into a case. He particularly hated the days when he wanted to get out, but felt a certain amount of dread keeping him from skipping. Stephanie hadn't said a word to him all day; Zoanne said hi, which was more than he expected and probably more than he deserved, after how he'd treated her. But she said hi and then went to sit with Craig Polaski. The last half of the day was even worse. Math and history saw him trying hard to focus on work he'd found juvenile, compared to the things he'd been learning for half a decade.

Not that that made him feel snotty, or anything.

Last period, and Tim sat listening to a lecture on Stalin, leg jiggling under his seat. In a little over an hour and a half, he was going to see Bruce for the first time in weeks. He tapped his pencil against his desk until the kid in front of him shot back a glare. Even Ives passed a note, asking if he was all right. He smiled an of course, but the second the bell rang, Tim was out the door. It felt like he'd left the parking lot before the buses had even started loading; somehow he didn't get a ticket on the way home. Home, this big empty mansion. It wasn't that empty, now that Dick was back in town, and Alfred was always around, but - he couldn't help the discomfort it left him with.

He'd spent most of last night pouring through files, avoiding Dick, and setting up a jump drive. What to give, what to leave out. What to warn against, what to keep silent on. Tim was tempted to pass along a million and one things: Bane breaking his back, the Clench, the quake, No Man's Land, the murder investigation - Darkseid. It was so tempting. And Tim forced himself to only compile the relevant Hush articles: his initial appearance, and the latest attack on Selina. The decision hadn't let him sleep, but he never felt more awake.

It was half past three when Tim was speeding out of the cave, dressed in uniform, jump drive tucked into a pouch on his belt. His car was hidden, and he was perched on a tree branch just inside Aparo Park by a quarter to. Now all there was left was to wait, and swallow his stupid, pounding heart.

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To be entirely honest, even if Bruce hadn't become Batman, there was a good chance he still would have opted to drag the Tumbler out of the metaphorical catacombs of Wayne Enterprises. There was something to be said for how it soothed away his frustrations and uncertainties when he was driving in it. In the bat suit, especially, he felt a certain peace of mind he didn't have as Bruce Wayne. He was able to settle into the persona of Batman, independent of worries about Rachel, the economy, whether to trust Edward Nygma and a million other things that had been stressing him as of late.

He slid into the worldhopping gear easier this time than any of the previous ones - it seemed to be getting more and more habitual - and appeared on the road just outside Gotham city limits. No need for cars to be popping into busy freeways, especially the batmobile.

Gotham looked... different on this end. It seemed darker than his own, more menacing and foreboding. He didn't like it - was this the result of Batman's presence? He shuddered to think. Getting to Aparo Park didn't take long, and he arrived at five til, parking on the south side adjacent to a pond that had probably, at one time, been populated with ducks. He opened the top of the car and jumped out, scanning the area for a sign of his future sidekick.

Tim watched the tumbler pull up, eyes wide. For a short moment, he'd crouched on his branch, reaching for his staff and ready for a fight. But when he realized who it was, who it had to be, the Boy Wonder stared. That...was not his Batmobile. It was like one of the many, many versions Bruce had gone through, but still somehow entirely different. Whatever was left of a teenage boy in him itched to drive it. And then pull it apart.

When Batman made his appearance, though, Tim glanced around. The Dark Knight hadn't been seen in a long while, and while he'd gotten things under control here, it was an odd sensation. Did he hope people would see? It'd reassure them that Batman would be back, as he'd said; it was why he asked the GCPD to switch back tot he Batsignal, no matter how empowering that Robin signal had been...

Tim felt his stomach knot and flipped out of the tree, landing lightly, not far from his ~~father~~ friend. No need to impress him, he told himself. This wasn't the Bruce he'd grown up with, he told himself. Didn't help much.

"Run into any trouble?"

Batman had noticed Robin before he flipped out of the tree - unsurprisingly. He appraised him for a moment, taking note of the red, yellow and black leotard that he was wearing. It looked ridiculous - how was that conducive to fighting crime? Batman had a strong feeling that there was nothing bulletproof about it.

"No - were you expecting me to?" He gestured back to the tumbler - perhaps just because he was that thrilled that his suit now had more mobility in the neck joint. "If that's the case, we should head out. Interacting with criminals in your world could cause a flux in the continuum, given the circumstances."

Tim nodded, keeping his distance for the moment while he watched his new Batman. The suit was all wrong - different. He was reminded of those times Bruce had surprised him with a new design, but there had never been anything quite like this. Looked like he could barely move. How did he do anything in that?

"I'd like to avoid cause more problems than there already are," the Boy Wonder said, stepping toward the car. Tank. Uh. "What is this?" He asked, curiosity taking hold.

"The tumbler - Mikaela and Tony have taken to calling it the 'batmobile', though. I think it caught on." He sounded as amused as possible through the laryngitic voice he adapted to suit his superhero persona. He re-opened the roof to allow the two of them to hop in, Batman in the driver's seat, obviously.

"You don't have anything like it here on your world?" He asked once the roof was closed to afford them some privacy. "It's pretty effective, the four-wheel drive capacity of a tank with the turn radius of a Lamborghini."

Tim climbed in, pulling his cape down around him as the roof closed. Blinking behind whiteout lenses, Tim looked around the car, studying every bit and piece he could find. Damn fascinating ride, that was sure. "I have a Batmobile," he said with a nod. "Looks more the part of the Lamborghini, though. Bullet proof. Has a set of weapons."

Leaning back in his seat, he tried to think of some safe topic of conversation. He couldn't settle on one, and opted for silence. He'd just examine this tumbler instead. Much more heartening than thinking of sitting next to his dead mentor.

"This thing could resist a nuclear missile, I'm pretty sure. It has the advantage over a sports car body because it can go off-road." Batman explained, flicking some switches as they neared the city limits - it felt ridiculous, having to drive out of the city only to drive back in, but it was better that way. "This may not be your first time world-hopping, but I'm going to warn you anyway, it's not entirely comfortable in the tumbler."

Without leaving room for debate, he shifted gears and suddenly it felt as if something were tugging at their guts and then they appeared in a much brighter-looking Gotham. It got Bruce to thinking that maybe it was just the difference of Gotham with and without Batman - after all, Tim never said how long he'd been dead in that other world. Or, 'dead,' as Edward would have him believe - which brought him to another point he meant to bring up with Tim.

"I want your opinion of Nygma's reformation. He came to me asking for help, he seemed genuine. I want to know if you think it would be safe to bring him to this version of Gotham temporarily to keep him away from Tom Elliot." It felt moronic, asking a child's opinion on these things, and Tony had been more than enough help, but... Tim knew the Riddler better than either of them.

He felt the strangest urge to defend his Batmobile, like he was defending his Bruce from this one; but that was ridiculous. He told himself it was ridiculous, and kept silent, nodding instead. He hadn't liked world-hopping the first couple times; now his hands clenched in his gauntlets. Uncomfortable was putting it lightly, and he breathed slowly to calm his stomach - which didn't help much once he got a good look outside. Leaning forward, the Boy Wonder frowned, confused for a moment. This looked like - like - he wasn't even sure. In some ways, it was like Gotham out of his childhood, but he knew better. How was it so much...better here?

Glancing sidelong at the Bat, Tim leaned back to brood on it, starting at the topic change. Eyebrows raising behind his mask, he turned to look at Bruce fully. "He came to you for help?" Strange. Was he that desperate? Didn't seem right. He hadn't come to Bruce last time, and this was a Batman he didn't even know. Left a sour taste in Tim's mouth.

"He's reformed. He's a scheming ass, but he's reformed. His plots revolve around getting the media and the public on his side, instead of robbing banks." For a moment, Tim fell silent, thinking. "He's been here before. Do you know how frequently?"

"No. I only knew he came to the masked ball that I held. Do you know who he's seeing?" He didn't really need an answer - there was only one. Harvey Dent, the Joker, and/or Crane. None of the above were appealing options - he certainly wasn't trying to help Harvey keep from turning to the dark side, and that was the only forgivable reason. This changed things.

"I don't want to put this world in danger by letting him stay here, but if he's in danger, and he came to me... I should help." He headed for the Palisades, making a sharp left to get them on the right highway. "He knows who I am and he hasn't told anyone. That should give him some points to his credit."

"I think I saw him talking to Dent at your party." Leaning back, he crossed his arms, watching this unfamiliar Gotham pass by. "He's my guess, but it's just an assumption." Things he'd been taught to hate. Go figure.

Peering at the signs as Bruce maneuvered, Tim frowned lightly, murmuring "Palisades?" to himself. Strange. This should be the Heights...There were more differences than he expected. Glancing back at Bruce, the Boy Wonder shook his head. "He won't tell. It's part of his make up. He likes to know things. He likes to hold knowing things above other peoples' heads. He knows you know he knows; that's what he wants, and doesn't intend to share Gotham's biggest secret with anyone else. Unless he has to," he added, thinking of the first time Hush came to town.

"I'd be wary. Him coming to you is strange. Stinks of searching out new contacts, new holes to crawl into should things go bad. New back up plans. He never came to - us."

Batman continued to navigate the roads offhandedly, heading down the backway to where he'd be able to jump the ravine into the Batcave after a few minutes of open road. He looked over at Robin after a moment's thoughtfulness. "Would you do it? If it were you he had asked for help, would you help him? Knowing that he had to sacrifice is well-maintained dignity and self-sufficiency to ask in the first place?"

It was better to be direct in getting his answers, Bruce found. And, it was about time he decided what he was going to do about this situation. "Knowing that if you chose not to help him and Thomas Elliot did kill him, you might as well be tried as an accessory. Would you turn him away?"

Tim was hard pressed to think of more than a few occasions when Bruce had asked questions such as these without already having the answers. Without it being some sort of lesson. The surprise in his eyes was hidden by the Starlite lenses when Tim turned to look at the older man.

"I'd help him," he said, facing forward again. He had a lot of accidental deaths on his conscience, same as all of them. "Trust is another thing."

"That's what I told Tony." He nods as though he had already planned on doing it - because it was actually exactly what he'd told him, but the information that Tim gave him had shaken the faith he had in Nygma's reformation considerably. All the same, it hardened his resolve to bring him to his version of Gotham. He parked the Tumbler in the middle of the 'batcave' and idled the engine, popping the roof for them to get out before turning it off completely.

"So, what information do you have on Elliot? Nygma gave me a brief overview that was really... far from informative."

Climbing out, Tim paused to look around this cave. Well. This was a hell of a lot different, too. It looked - unfinished. Geeze, maybe this Gotham was just fifteen years behind his. Turning toward Bruce, Tim reached into one of the yellow pouches at his hip and pulled out the jump drive, handing it over.

"Of course he did. Those are my files on Hush, including personal documentaries that we put together about his time away from Gotham, his first time back in the city, and what he did to Catwoman." He'd edited out her name, unsure if Bruce knew her here or not. "I don't know what you think of him, but he is no friend of yours."

"Catwoman." This caught Bruce's attention. He'd seen her on the community twice now and she seemed to know him. This was why, he deduced, she must be from Tim's version of Gotham as well. "Tommy and I were friends a long time ago. I haven't seen him in twenty years - but we're going to arrange a meeting. He's probably trying to trap me, but we'll see." He pulled off his cowl as they approached the computers a few feet away.

"We're still undergoing construction down here - we started while the manor was being rebuilt after the fire, but it's hard when you're doing it all yourself," he explained away the construction tools everywhere, allowing his voice to return to normal. "So, while I'm downloading this information onto my computers, maybe you should tell me what you can about Catwoman - she's been on the community. I'm sure you've seen her. Is she a serious threat? She doesn't appear to be violent or hostile toward Batman."

Tim left his mask on, not quite comfortable here yet. He pressed his lips tight together and shook his head at Bruce. "I'm sure you're curious, but he is not your friend. I don't know the Elliot of this world, but the Elliot of mine was never Bruce's friend. He is psychotic. He is dangerous. And he held a very big grudge for a very long time." Turning to examine the cave, Tim let his cape fall forward, covering himself.

"Different Catwoman," he said dismissively. He'd been wondering at the blondeness. "Not from my Gotham. As far as threats go on my world, she isn't really one of them, not anymore. She has her own way, and comparatively, I'll take hers over anyone else's."

Wandering over toward the computers, Tim frowned at the small screens, used to the giant monitor. "There was a fire?"

Bruce was silent for a long time, just watching the screens as he waited for the data to load onto it - he didn't really want to discuss the fire, or the events surrounding it.

"Three Gothams. I'm beginning to hate this multi-verse, thing." He confessed, running a hand through his hair. "The entire manor was burned to the ground. Not much was saved, but we've rebuilt it brick for brick like it was - but we reinforced the area of the cave and closed off the well." He explained, careful not to mention how the fire started. That was somewhere he didn't want to go. He had enough nightmares about Ra's al Ghul as it was.

"Nygma said the same thing about Tommy. I know he went to a mental hospital, I didn't realize it was so bad, though."

"Only beginning? Give it time." Wait till a Crisis comes around to take everything from you because of a spoiled brat recreating the multiverse. Crossing his arms loosely under his cape, Tim frowned vaguely at Bruce.

"A fire. And this is - the Palisades? This area's called the palisades?" Strange. There were points of recognition, but at the same time..."Harvey - he was scarred by fire. Right?" Weird. The differences were building up, but Tim wasn't sure what they meant - if they meant anything.

Shaking his head, Tim nodded toward the computer. "Everything you need is right there. He's not just sick, Bruce, he's really - are his parents alive, on your world? Any accidents when you were kids?"

"He was strapped to gas barrels, he knocked his chair over and when I was getting him out, the barrels exploded and the part of his face that had been soaked in gasoline lit." Bruce explained, moving to look at the computer screen as he continued to answer Tim's questions one-by-one.

"This area of Gotham is called the Palisades, yes. And, Tom Elliot's parents were killed when we were young. Car crash. Then, he attacked a kid at summer camp - that was why he was sent to the psychiatric ward." He finished the first part of the file. "Which looks copacetic to your files on him."

"Both his parents died?" Tim spoke sharply, looking hard at Bruce. "Mom and dad? You father didn't save his mom?" That was it, or so he'd thought for a long time, that was the grudge, the start of it all. And if he existed here, Tim was putting a stop to this bull before it could start. He'd seen Bruce scared because of this crap, and it had made him angry, when he was younger. It made him angrier now, knowing what Elliot would try to do. Steal his face, his money, his lifestyle.

He'd catalogue those differences later; Elliot was more important, now.

For a moment, Bruce looked thoughtful. It had been over twenty years since the incident, that was a long time to forget details. His father had saved a lot of lives, he rarely told Bruce about it. "I'll find the police report, give me a moment." He shifted to another monitor that wasn't occupied by the data that Tim had provided and proceeded to run a search through the police database (hardly a difficult task to gain access to) for the Elliot family.

He read aloud the important parts, "father was killed instantaneously, mother sustained nearly fatal injuries, presiding surgeon Thomas Wayne... critical condition for two weeks... She lived." That was enough to spark the memory - he had been there. "I told him that my dad would be able to save them both, but he could only save his mother. I was there when Thomas found out."

Tim nodded, running a hand through his hair, other settling at his hip as he stared at the floor. Exactly the same. It was exactly..."Bruce, he killed them." The Boy Wonder looked up, watching for the other man's reaction. "Tommy set it up. He cut the breakline. He made sure his parents didn't take the driver. He killed his dad, and years later, he killed his mom. He isn't a friend, and he hates you."

And he didn't want this happening again, not if he could stop it.

He didn't know what to say. Thomas Elliot had been a good friend - admitting that he maybe wasn't a friend anymore was something he could have easily done, it had been ages since they'd spoken, but to think that he had never been a decent person in all the time that Bruce had known him. Tim might as well have told him that Rachel was a murderer, too.

"Are you sure? Are you positive he was responsible for his father's death? He... was infuriated with me, though, you don't understand, I told him that they were both going to live and he... was filled with rage when he found out his father had died. He became physically violent because of it, and you're telling me that he did it? That's impossible, children aren't that good at acting."

"I'm positive about the Elliots from my world," Tim said, keeping his voice hard. "He probably attacked you because his mom was saved. I never said he was stupid, he isn't, was always pretty smart I gather; and what, are you telling me that you didn't figure out fast how to act, after your parents?" Tim knew he'd learned damned fast. "I have dealt with Elliot for - two or three years. I've seen - Bruce deal with him. He isn't someone to take lightly."

He could still remember, one of the only times he'd seen Batman out of commission: the jumpline had been cut, and a several story fall had cracked his head open. All the beginning of an elaborate plan to bring Tommy Elliot, the successful brain doctor back into Bruce's life. Tim shook his head. "He's dangerous, he knows who you are, and I wouldn't be surprised if my Elliot" God, that was sickening "wants to kill you. He missed his chance on our world." Oh you could just gather the bitter in a jam jar.

There wasn't much Bruce felt he could do except nod his understanding. It was all meshing with what Nygma had told him, but Tim was fleshing out the details. But, there was still one thing that he felt didn't match up. Something was being left out, and he had the sinking feeling that Edward Nygma and Thomas Elliot were the only ones who knew the answer.

"Why does he want to kill the Riddler? Edward would be more use to him alive than dead, from what I can see and what you've told me." He slammed a fist on the table in front of him. He hated not having the answers - being short fifteen years and various details made it damn hard to defend himself against these people. "It doesn't make sense."

"It never does, at first." Tim crossed closer to the computer, glancing over the information, though he knew almost word for word what was there. "They were partners. Riddler was the one who told Elliot who about Batman. I don't know how it started, but they were working together. Two-Face shot him off a bridge, and that was the last we saw of him for a good while. When he resurfaced, he went after Nygma. Got himself into all sorts of trouble with the Joker." For a moment, Tim fell silent, glancing over at Bruce.

"Revenge? Betrayal? I don't know, and sometimes, I'm not sure I want to know."

"There's still a piece missing - you don't go from partners to death threats in one day. Looks like I'll be needing the story from Nygma after all." Bruce observed, finishing scanning the file. "Sounds like all of this internal conflict should be making my job easier - but I doubt that's the truth of the matter."

It was said with the slightest hint of bitterness - he'd gotten himself into this, yes, and he wanted to continue doing it, but people like the Joker and Crane weren't part of the deal, back then. Before Batman, crime was simple. But, it had evolved.

Tim snorted. "It gets worse when they fight," he assured. "Trust me." He opened his mouth again, ready to warn him not to make war plans as contingencies, wondering if, in several years, they'd be able to avoid the gang war that signaled his life changing drastically - but right now, that was selfish of him. Maybe eventually, he'd get Bruce more information, more warnings. This Gotham was strangely bright. He wanted to keep it that way.

"There are differences between our Gothams," he said abruptly. No sense in dwelling on what neither of them knew.

"I'm assuming that you're referring to the fire in the manor and the method of Harvey Dent's injuries." Bruce didn't miss a beat - he'd already observed the way that Tim was referring to the things, and the fact that he kept pressing questions. He'd also made plenty of observations while they were there.

"Not to mention if you were helping me here, I'd never send you into the city wearing spandex - that doesn't do much against bullets, in case you haven't learned that the hard way. I use titanium plates wrapping in tight-weave kevlar, you should consider it if you want to keep your head. The Joker's ruthless."

"And the Palisades," Tim added. For a moment, he stared at Bruce, not sure if he wanted to snort or smile. Opting for neither, the Boy Wonder shook his head. "It isn't just spandex. The suit's armored with a kevlar weave, fireproof. Cape can withstand bullets." He knew, because it had saved his life on more than a few occasions. Tapping the tunic, and the gorget at his throat, smile smiled wryly. "All armored, while keeping the mobility." He didn't mention that he had enough scars to prove that it didn't always work. Bruce would know.

"I know the Joker," he added. It was strange, that this Bruce didn't know everything he'd gone through with the Clown Prince.

"And Dent was scarred by acid, in my world. There was no fire in Wayne Manor; not one that brought it down like this. We did our remodeling after the quake. And this area is called the Heights, not the Palisades." He still...wasn't sure if it meant anything. Just felt like it should.

He looked impressed, taking mental tally of the improvements Tim laid out on the suit - he would mention them to Lucius next chance he got. For the time being, though, Bruce had higher priorities than improvements on his suit - like the Joker and Crane, for instance. When that thought occurred to him, however, he had to wonder what he was doing here with Tim, pointing out differences between their worlds. It was trivial in comparison, there was no saying what Joker was doing in the meantime.

"...Acid?" It suddenly occurred to him. "So, Rachel wasn't killed in an explosion?"

"The only Rachel Dawes I know, I met on the community. Found no records of her on my world, after an initial search." Tim shrugged lightly, crossing his arms. He hesitated a moment, before adding, "Dent told me that she was a childhood friend of yours." And she seemed worlds better than Elliot, that was sure.

There were things here he wanted to do, wanted to know, but there was a gnawing in the back at his head. One telling him to get the hell out of here, before he ruined this. Somehow. This Gotham felt - better? No, no, he didn't like that. But this Gotham had a Dent who wasn't completely a villain. It had people like Rachel Dawes, and Joker and Scarecrow were the only real villains to worry about. This Gotham still had Bruce.

Tim cut that line of thought abruptly. He knew Nightwing could keep the city safe come night, but Anarky was Robin's problem to deal with, and the Boy Wonder wasn't comfortable leaving that unchecked. He should get back to wear he was needed. And stop thinking that he needed to do everything he could for this Gotham, too.

This information unsettled Bruce considerably. A world where Rachel had never existed - how many people had she helped as ADA and how much of his idiocy had she stopped? He thought back to the probationary hearing of Joe Chill and wondered if there were discrepancies there due to her presence missing, but he couldn't bring himself to ask.

"I've known her since she was born, her family worked in the manor. We used to play there as children..." He seemed lost in the memories, and when he reached the one of him walking through the ashes of what might have very well been her body, he cringed visibly. New topic.

"There's no use over-analyzing the differences, for the time being, if we wanted to know the meaning of them we could simple ask the Doctor. It's something of a specialty for him, from what I understand. But, I'm going to go ahead and assume that you, like me, have higher priorities than determining the meaning."

Tim didn't press; between Dent and Bruce, he could put together an ugly enough picture of what had happened. The Boy Wonder nodded once, storing away more questions for next time. Or maybe just to ask from the safety of his own world; he didn't know how often he could do this, knowing he'd be going home to an empty manor.

"I do," he said shortly. "You have all the files on Elliot." He wanted to tell Bruce to be careful, to not do anything stupid, but it seemed such a strange thing to do. "And if you do keep Nygma safe here, I want to know about it."

"You'll be one of the first to know," Bruce promised - assuming that Tim intended to check the community often, because there was something to be said for the security of the filters there. He ran a stressed hand through his hair, at the same time shaking some of the sweat that had collected there while trapped beneath his cowl.

"You seem anxious to return to your own world, and I need to get started on patrol here, too."

Tim nodded, wondering if he should find Nygma before he left. But no, more threats would be superfluous and tiresome for them both. Offhand warnings and crypticness would have a better effect, if anything would. He didn't want to see this world - well - turn into his.

"Yeah, I've got things to take care of. You do too, obviously." He turned, starting for the tumbler (which was still so cool), before pausing to glance back. "When things calm down, for both of us," he said, not sure at all why he was saying it, "we should go on patrol."

He had to smile when Tim made the suggestion - he realized how hard it was, to find someone on the community who'd recently died, and the thought of that person being his father figure... well he was a little happy to hear that Tim regarded him in at least equal footing with the Bruce of his world.

"If things ever calm down, Tim, we won't need to. But, I'd like that. Hopefully, Joker and Crane won't be free for much longer and I'll have the time to spare." He explained, following him toward the Tumbler and pulling the cowl back on.

He didn't mention that Crane and Joker would be in and out of Arkham for years. What he'd already given Bruce was disheartening enough, and he wasn't going risk kneecapping him so early in his world. Tim didn't smile, but the corner of his lips ticked upward.

"You know what I mean. Believe it or not, there will be calm days. Ones that aren't calm enough to make you worry." The curl of his mouth turned into more of a smile as he walked around the tumbler. "They're good days."

"Maybe someday." Batman agreed, hitting a button his belt to make the roof of the Tumbler slide open. "For the few months they were locked away, those were calm days." But, he didn't push the subject, because he couldn't imagine a calm day while they were free and clear. He couldn't imagine being in Tony's position, able to simply sail away and take a week off. He wasn't fighting America's physical war - he couldn't drop in, shoot terrorists and leave. He was fighting the war for Gotham's soul - the finesse required was something Bruce could only hope he had.

Tim had always believed he did. Jumping up the tumbler's side to slide in gracefully, Tim nodded. "I bet." He remembered stories from Alfred about weekends he'd spent with the Titans; nights, good nights when Bruce had been bored. He'd always wanted to be around to see those, and rarely managed it.

Those were definitely the best nights, though. Even though he'd often complained about the boredom.

Sitting in the tumbler, Tim stared hard at the dashboard in front of him. There had been something he wanted to ask, since finding out about this world, this Bruce, something he was certain he probably shouldn't ask, but needed to hear. He couldn't stop the words bubbling out, but he did make them aloof; Alfred's acting lessons coming in handy once again. "Have you ever heard of a Darkseid, here?"

"Darkseid?" Bruce racked his brain, trying to determine if it was a name he should know. Sure enough, there was nothing he could think to connect it to. "No, I haven't. Judging by the name, I can assume that's a good thing?" He started the engines and made a tight u-turn, revving the engine and then speeding out so he could make the jump out from behind the waterfall and onto the highway.

Tim smiled. Almost really smiled, because his inner auto-loving teen adored this ride. But he nodded once, shrugging a shoulder lightly. "Yeah, probably." Definitely. No fucking god like bastards to worry about, not being turned into something that would make a skeleton look preferable...Definitely a good thing. "The names get pretty lame. Wait till you meet Condiment King." Loser. Mildly dangerous loser. To a civilian, at least.

It was all he could do not to start laughing at the name Condiment King. Instead, he looked over at Tim rather incredulously, as if he expected the boy to throw in a big "just kidding!" at the end. Did these criminals expect to be taken seriously?

"That's ridiculous." He pointed out, shaking his head. "Hardly inspires fear, as most criminals try to."

"I'm serious!" Tim half grinned, catching that look. "He's basement bargain. His costume is actually patch-worked. Badly, it's black with red and yellow squares all over. He has a gun that shoots ketchup." The Boy Wonder let himself be amused for a moment before tilting his head to the side.

"Of course, he's got cayenne pepper, too. One shot in some poor guys' eyes and that's it. Wouldn't call him scary. Creative, maybe, but no, not fear inspiring." Leaning back and crossing his arms thoughtfully, Tim tilted his head to the side. "Then there's Killer Croc, Jane Doe, Calendar Man, Clayface, Man-Bat. Penguin....Firefly, Mad Hatter...Killer Moth, Magpie, Orca, Great White Shark, Whale...More fish themed people than you'd expect." Tim shook his head, crooked smile not particularly mirthful.

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[RL, Bruce & Robin] Not Sure How I'm Gonna Do This All Again

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