Tim Drake
Tim was entirely aware that he should be talking this over with Dick. He knew that Wilsons were really Nightwing's territory - even Rose, who was Tim's generation, had only become one of his Titans because Dick asked it of him. Though he'd on occasion wished he had said no, Tim knew it was good for her, drunken midnight assaults aside. It was good for her like it had been good for Joey...till the guy went crazy, anyway.

He should really talk to Nightwing about this one.

But Wilson had run into him, and Tim took it damn seriously. Maybe too seriously. He was being too stubborn about this. Even knowing all this, Tim found himself requesting the world-hop, carefully keeping it under the radar. He didn't know Jump City. He had never heard of it before Grant's appearance, and was as suspicious of it as the man who first mentioned it.

It was a strange place, but no stranger than Gotham. It held a grid pattern, it was easy to navigate - and there were plenty of rooftops and alleys to hide in. Cakewalk. It seemed like a quiet town - though anything would seem like a quiet town, compared to Gotham now - but then a distant explosion caught his attention. Tim crouched on his ledge, squinting. In the distance, he could see - what the hell - a heavy duty truck lifting off the road, thrown away. Shit. He shouldn't get involved, he had a job to do, but...

It didn't take long to slip closer, but by the time he was near enough to see what was going on, there were other people on the scene. Other people he - he almost recognized...

Oh, fuck. The Teen Titans. Oh fuck, Titans he knew. And in the distance, he could see - what the hell - Titans Tower. It looked like the New York version.

Tim turned around and got the hell out of the area, fast and silent. They had things under control and he...well. He didn't want to deal with the insanity. What the hell were Titans doing in this ridiculously named city? And they looked like Dick's Titans only - well he hadn't seen Donna, or Wally. Roy and Garth were absent, but that wasn't entirely out of the ordinary. Still. Still.

They weren't the reason he was here. He was here to figure out if Grant Wilson was dead or not. Making his way to City Hall wasn't too difficult. Everything was...really clearly labeled here. Still, it wasn't a place he knew well. So Tim found a perch above, on an adjacent building, to scope the building out, searching for security, exits and entrances. There wasn't much going on, it wouldn't be hard to get in and out of. He was stalling. Why was the real question.
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Tim Drake
Tim realized two things upon waking: he wasn't in his room, and he was not alone.

Turning his head, he stared at the woman next to him. For a moment, he felt the corners of his mouth twitch, wanting to smile. But then his mouth went dry. Carefully extracting himself from the bed, Tim sat on it's edge, propping his head up in his hands. Oh. Oh fuck. Well that's what happened, wasn't it? He felt a little sick, a little like what he imagined a hangover to feel like. Just a little. Tim raked a hand through his hair, covering his mouth in thought.

So. No more Boy Virgin cracks. Plus side? And it was Dick, not some stranger from Chuck's club. Down side. It was Dick, and he'd just slept with her.

Tim scrubbed at his face silently, shoulders hunched. What the fuck was he supposed to do now? What could he do, that wouldn't completely ruin their relationship? "Shit," he muttered to himself, banding forward to lean on his knees. He had no idea.
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Tim Drake
Getting home from Chuck's club was entirely Dick's doing: Tim had lost track of how many drinks Chuck had pushed his way, and he definitely hadn't been keeping track of how frequently his glass had been refilled. But it had been a lot. It had been a lot and Tim was fairly sure this was as close to wasted as he'd ever been, and probably as close as he'd ever be. He had a lot of control over himself - he was speaking louder than usual, more easily - but there wasn't much difference in the way he acted.

When they got back to the manor, Tim headed straight for his room - or thought he was. Walking in the door, he blinked and looked around. This was definitely not his room. Spotting the Haly's Circus poster on the wall, Tim turned his head to the side. How had he ended up in Dick's room? Huh. Turning toward the door, he saw her there behind him, and smiled quickly. Whoops, yeah, but maybe this wasn't a terrible thing.

Reaching out for her hand, Tim tilted his head to the side. "My hero, huh?"
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Tim Drake
23 April 2009 @ 01:45 pm
Tim missed what the city used to be. It had been a playground, a home, a place to relieve his tensions. It used to be a comfort, swinging through the air on a jumpline that felt like it would snap under his weight, even though it could hold ten times that. Gotham used to be a place of companionship and entertainment. Now it was just a place of fire, crime, unrest.

He was tired, and the night had only just started. Perched precariously on a roof, he watched, waiting for the Network's call. It'd come soon enough, that was the experience he'd gained in the past few weeks. They all needed help. There was too much to handle on their own, and the sheer logistics of fighting a war against a city - it brought back bad memories. Squire had suggested a break, and he'd taken it - when her suggestion became a demand. Tim didn't have time for breaks.

Scratching his head, the Boy Wonder crouched, one hand holding the edge of the roof. In the distance, he could see fires blazing. He heard the sirens, but didn't know who was there, helping; the fire trucks were too far away. Someone - Batwoman? - had called in saying she was on it with Huntress. Still...big fire.

He was just about to head over when a sound caught his attention. It was faint, almost missed, but Tim turned sharply, peering into the black alley below him. Silently, he slipped down the fire escape, listening and watching hard.
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Tim Drake
02 April 2009 @ 10:27 pm
He should be home, enjoying the fact that he was a boy again, or at least yelling at Dick about it. Instead, he was on Bruce's world again, dressed down and following Nygma. Tim kept to the sides of buildings, keeping a good deal of distance between them: he didn't want to deal with Eddie on a face to face basis. At all. He liked this form of trailing so much less; it was easier, more exhilarating from the rooftops. Tim glanced up at the tall building he stood next to, frowning lightly at the moon peeking over its edge. He should be getting home soon, but if Crane was still staying with Eddie - in Bruce's penthouse - Tim wanted to know more. Had he misplaced whatever trust he'd handed over? God, he hoped not. He'd never hear the end of it,b ut more than that, he'd never really forgive himself.

Watching Nygma turn a corner, Tim shifted to head down an alley, cutting across the block ahead of the older man. Or at least, that was the intention; he had to pause halfway down as a noise caught his ears. Turning slightly, the unmasked Boy Wonder lifted his head to scan the fire escapes on either sides of the alley, frowning where light bulbs were busted, casting swaths of inky dark. Withdrawing his hands from his pockets, Tim continued on, slowly.
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Tim Drake
30 March 2009 @ 10:00 pm
Livejournal was officially a thing of evil. It was a fucking wonder she hadn't broken the laptop, honestly; her phone was off and buried under a pile of laundry on the floor. That had to be what Bruce had used to film it; it was the only thing at that angle. And Tim was on her bed, turning a Rubik's cube in her hands continuously, only sometimes paying attention to it.

The worst part about all of this, though, the absolute worst part? Tim was still a girl. She was still down one Y-chromosome, she still couldn't go out on patrol, and when she'd tried to work off the fury, she'd actually hurt herself. This body had not trained for years, and though she still knew every skill, form, and martial art she'd known as a boy, she couldn't do half of it without the physical conditioning. It was maddening.

She retreated - with an icepack on her shoulder - to her room, still frustrated, but mostly brooding. Upset just sounded too feminine to deal with right now. It was entirely sexist, but Tim could worry about that later. She'd gotten drunk. She'd let Tony kiss her - sort of - and she'd kissed Nygma. Not was kissed, initiated it. Her hands tightened on the cube, turning it faster. Blue, orange, blue, blue, white. Turn. White, white, green, red. Turn - fuck. She was holding it so tight it was getting hard to actually turn.

Closing her eyes, Tim's grip slacked and she rolled onto her side, holding it on the bed beside her. So Eris was a liar, Eddie just kept talking about it, even if it was embarrassment, and Bruce was disappointed in her. He wasn't her Bruce, and it was obvious that he didn't understand - well - a lot. But he was still Bruce Wayne, and for whatever reason - no, not whatever reason, it was because Tim had talked to him, he wasn't just a random multiversal double - his opinion still mattered. Hearing him tell her flat out that he was disappointed was only slightly worse than him telling Dick that Tim had been over estimated.

Her stomach rolled and she pressed her face into the pillow under her head. She was still glad she'd hacked into their talk; at least, she was still telling herself she was glad. It was better than not knowing exactly what he thought of her.

The only upside to this - maybe, she thought, maybe - was Dick's 180 defense. But she didn't want to read too far into that.
Current Location: Home
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Tim Drake
29 March 2009 @ 02:33 am
Tim watched the scenery roll by from the back of Happy Hogan's car, something she really never thought she'd be doing. Then again, she was pretty sure she would never be a she, and that Happy's employer would never kiss her. Go fucking figure, right?

As they sped away from Tony's place, Tim rubbed her head, and turned up the air conditioning. Good thing she'd let Happy drive, because walking all the way would have fucking sucked. Still, she wasn't letting him take her all the way there. Getting out five minutes from where Nygma was supposed to meet her, she managed to thank Happy and, after he left, headed in a mostly straight line to the park they'd picked. Once there, she found a tree to get out of the sun, and leaned against it's trunk. Okay, so. Whatever, right? She wasn't going to tell anyone, Tony wasn't going to tell anyway. It was just an accident. Yep. And Tim pretty much believed it, too.

Getting drunk? Best damn idea she'd had all week.
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Tim Drake
28 March 2009 @ 01:56 am
She'd have to thank Suze sometime later, because right now there were very few things on Tim's mind. Foremost was getting to Tony's place to steal his liquor - right - and then to get elsewhere in Malibu and fix this gender crisis. The bad taste in her mouth clearly needed to be washed away by alcohol.

Pausing long enough to knock, Tim reached for the doorknob. "Tony, it's Tim. Lemme in."
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Tim Drake
26 March 2009 @ 02:20 pm
So. He was a girl. He was a she and his - her - anatomy was not the anatomy she'd been born with. Also, Tim had never been so damn confused by pronouns. The air in his room was cranked up, because the huge sweatpants and shirt did not make for easy living in humid weather. In any case, Tim the Girl Wonder (she hoped Stephanie never, ever found out about this) was stretched across her bed, staring at the ceiling and plotting Loki's demise.

How had this happened again? Note to self: never mock Bruce. That was, apparently, her downfall. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, Tim rolled over onto her side, shifting uncomfortable. Every time she walked around, her pants threatened to fall. Maybe she should've told Dick to bring a belt, damn.
Current Location: Home
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Tim Drake
Wipe that smile off your fucking face )
Current Location: Arkham Asylum
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Tim Drake
26 March 2009 @ 12:01 am
Tim had regretted not wearing his winter suit for the world hop; things were much more comfortable in the tumbler. But at least he got to the Baxter Building in one piece. He had to look into this world-hopping technology, it was too useful not to have.

Though entering through front doors weren't really his style, Tim couldn't remember (from the movie, or the comic books he used to read) if the Baxter Building had any serious defenses. Safest bet was the most mundane, and there's really nothing odder than riding an elevator up a few stories while wearing a cape and tights.
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Tim Drake
There was an uncomfortable parallel between the Gotham Tim knew, and the one he'd been introduced to over the internet. And even thinking that sounded ridiculous. Still, it was real enough to warrant a serious amount of thought and attention - attention he really needed to be directing to his city before it fell apart around him.

But that other Gotham had gone to hell about when his did. And that other Gotham still had a Bruce.(Not to mention a Batman, but considering he'd started wearing the mantle, Tim didn't want to accept that as the parallel; Bruce was alive.) It deserved a little research, and what better way to go about it than to take a trip himself? Just, without informing anyone of his arrival.

Just looking around wouldn't be good enough, though; Tim was aware of that much. But there wasn't exactly anyone to talk about this to there, no one who'd--


It was obvious, really. Eddie didn't think Batman was dead either. And considering even Dick thought he was dead...well, talking to someone who knew better would be refreshing. Even it it was Nygma.

The worldhop - a secret he'd probably have to pay back with a favor - was as uncomfortable as the last few, but it didn't stop Tim from hunting down addresses. They weren't that different from his world; Eddie was staying at someplace Bruce owned. And Bruce owned a lot of property in Tim's world. It wasn't long before he found the right penthouse; it took much less time to sneak up to the right floor. Out of the elevator was what worked as a veritable front door. Tim wasted no time in knocking, frowning at the door frame.
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Tim Drake
Malibu was damn nice, compared to Gotham right now. Tim was definitely trying not to think o f Gotham, though; he had the time to spare, and Tony was clearly freaking out. And since it was over Bruce, the Boy Wonder figured it unlikely that he'd get the talking he needed.

Slipping through the unlocked door, Tim shut it behind him and ran a hand through his hair, walking into the unfamiliar house (if it could be called that). "Tony?"
Current Location: Malibu
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Tim Drake
It was an unnaturally bright day in Gotham; Murphy, of course, fated it to be a day Tim was leaving the city. Of course; the irony left him smiling wryly as he waited for his ride in Robinson Park. Spring was coming; it was unusually warm, and in this tree surrounded area,he could hear the birds that had returned to the city. Idly, he wondered if he was listening to Robins; it was hard to tell when they weren't making those threatening PEEK tut tut noises. Running a hand through his hair as the world-hopper arrived, Tim held his breath through the trip, ignoring the sickness it left in his stomach. It was uncomfortable, but nothing unbearable.

Miami. He wasn't sure he'd ever been to Miami; it wasn't some place a case had ever drawn him, and he'd never visited otherwise. It was nice - Tony's house(like it could really just be called a house) was nicer. Tim approached with an appraising eye; he was used to the architecture of the manor, old, classic. This place was new, modern; it felt alive in the strangest sense.

Plastering a smile on his face (it wasn't that hard today; must be the maybe-robins he'd been listening to), Tim made his way to the almost intimidating front door and pressed his index finger against the doorbell.
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Tim Drake
19 February 2009 @ 07:26 pm
 Last time, Nygma had caught him off guard. He'd come to Tim's home, thrown him off, and now the Boy Wonder was fairly certain that Edward Nygma was once again aware of The Secret. Bruce wasn't around to pull the intimidation act, and Tim knew when denial was fruitless (in most cases, at least). It was time to do something about the reformed villain. 

When night draped Gotham, heavy and thick like a wool coat in winter, Tim was already suited up and in the cave. When all traces of the sun had disappeared, he was in the Batmobile, leaving behind his empty home, pushing away his empty thoughts. None of that was going to do him any good out here; he'd leave it for return, when he couldn't sleep for the three or four hours before school. Now his foot sat heavy on the gas, maneuvering the car as if he'd been doing it for years. In a way, he had; not in the car, necessarily, but in his own. Or on a motorcycle. One way or another, he'd learned this roads better than he'd ever imagined he would, knew every exit, alley, and pothole. 

He knew the safe places to hide the Batmobile, too, and took off over rooftops. On the way, Tim stopped a few muggings, some robberies, even a car jacking. And when the moon was high, hanging like a broken sliver of a sphere, he made his way to the building he'd come out with the intention of visiting tonight. Landing on the fire escape outside the sixth floor, the Boy Wonder opened the window and perched on its ledge. "Nygma."
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