New Faces
Looking at the screen, frowning, he sets the computer to run a trace. He also contacts Tim. "Keep him distracted." Then he clicks off and dresses quickly. The computer feeds the information to the cowl as he's driving though the city.
The WE building? Really. His eyes narrow behind the cowl and he drives. It's only a matter of minutes and going up the outside of the building doesn't take long. Nor does getting in the security locked windows when you have the code. He lets himself in and around the corner to face....
"Who ARE you?"
Tim backs a few steps away from him, scowling. "Who are YOU?" he demands.
"Batman. And you're not Robin."
"Since when?!"
"Since never. Robin is the one you've been corresponding with." One dark gauntlet gestures at the computer.
That's what he was afraid of. It's an alien conspiracy. And he's not even wearing the right Batman costume. "No way," he says flatly. "He's an impostor. Just like you."
Batman scowls. "So why is Superman not here?"
“I bet he'd come if I yelled for him," Tim replies, folding his arms across his chest. Unless he's been replaced, too. That would be... really bad.
"I'm sure he would. Go ahead," the Bat says, completely unruffled.
Tim doesn't really like to admit when he's in way over his head, but... Aliens are really WAY more in Superman's line of work than in Robin's. So, feeling a little dumb, he glares at fake Batman and yells, "Superman! Help! Batman's possessed by aliens again!"
Bruce raises an eyebrow under the cowl at that.
Again?
Clark's sitting at his desk, going over his notes when he hears the yell. He doesn't quite recognize the voice- though it sounds almost like a younger Tim Drake- but the content of the message catches his attention.
"Superman! Help! Batman's possessed by aliens again!"
Possessed by aliens?
Again?
... wait, what?
Clark pushes his chair back, and in a flash, Superman is on his way.
The Bat stands there, unruffled (except for this cape) at the Man of Steel's appearance. "Superman," he says firmly, hoping to convey that they shouldn't be familiar in front of the boy. "Hold him while I get a DNA sample."
Tim just watches fake Batman, waiting for a sign that he's going to try to run. He could stop him. Probably.
He'd given the building a quick x-ray once-over before he entered, not quite believing his eyes, either then or now that he's at the scene. He looks over the boy a few times before turning to Bruce questioningly, a look that intensifies at the man's statement.
"What's going on here?"
"He's an alien!" Tim says, pointing. "Or he's being mind-controlled again!"
Clark just keeps looking at Bruce.
"I have no idea. He claims to be Robin. But Robin is. At home." He doesn't' take his eyes off the boy. "Robin was conversing with this one while I came here."
"Do you have any idea who he is?"
"I will once I get his DNA," he says with gritted teeth. "Hold him."
Tim turns to look at Superman in dismay. Not him, too. How's he supposed to find help if even SUPERMAN is compromised?
“Hang on- let's not escalate this unless we need to." He turns to the boy. "Who are you?"
He folds his arms tightly over his chest. "Robin," he says flatly.
Bruce rolls his eyes. "I tried that. Now help, or go home." He moves toward the boy.
Tim backs up a few more steps. "Don't touch me. You're gonna give me alien cooties." He glances at Superman. "No offense."
He holds a hand out in front of the other hero. There's no sign the boy is lying, and yet...
This is getting complicated.
Best to start with the basics, then. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asks the boy. Perhaps that'll hold some clue.
"I'm not an alien," he says with gritted teeth, closing the gap. There is a hand in front of him. "Move it. Now," he says to Clark.
He sighs, not moving the hand. "Look, there's obviously something going on here, but there's no need to use force. Let's just try to talk about this and see if we can figure it out."
Bruce glares at him. "He got on MY mainframe. Compromised MY location and identity. And will not answer questions. DNA it is."
He looks at his friend, then turns back to the boy. "Are you willing to give us a DNA sample?"
"That's because you're not real!" Tim exclaims. "You don't know who I am, and you're wearing the wrong costume, and you have some other Robin, and I didn't even quit! I'm not giving you anything! Especially my DNA! You'll make another me and replace me!"
"The wrong costume?"
Bruce looks to Clark. "See?"
"It's all--dark. It looks wrong."
This... is strange. "What should it look like?"
Bruce's eyes narrow behind the whited-out lenses. This could be. Revealing.
Tim eyes both of them suspiciously. If he tells them the truth, maybe they'll fix it so no one can tell the difference. But--if he's vague... "It should be gray."
Clark frowns. Gray? Like- "Gray and blue?"
"No. Grey and black."
His frown deepens. He turns to Bruce again. "That almost sounds like your old one, but..." he trails off.
Bruce frowns. "That. I had one. But that was. It didn't last very long." The Blue and Grey he had for many years. But. “It was before I had Robins."
"What number are you?" the Bat demands of the boy.
Tim gives him an indignant look. "The second--and you should know that!" he turns toward Clark again. "See! Alien mind control! Fix it!"
Bruce. Stops. "Jason?" It's a whisper. No, it can't be.
Tim gives him a confused look. "Who?"
"The second?" he asks, confused. He glances over the boy, this time with x-ray. He looks... almost like Tim, but there are differences, especially in age. A clone? But no, why would he say they were different then?
No. Of course not. "I have three Robins. Had."
"No, two."
"Hold him," he tells Clark. This has gone on long enough.
Superman shakes his head. "There have been three Robins..." he hesitates. The boy looks a good deal like the third Robin, more so now that he's x-rayed him, and yet... "T?" he asks, not using the full name.
Bruce's head snaps to look at the man of steel. "You can't be serious."
Tim looks at them suspiciously. "So you do know me now?"
"Look at him, Batman. He's not exactly the same, but..."
"DNA. Now." That's the only way to be sure. And if it IS Tim. As if life isn't complicated enough for the third Robin.
"... Tim?" he asks, looking for confirmation.
"No. Way." Tim glares at fake Batman, the look on his face promising a fight if he tries to come closer.
That's it. No more games. Out come the bolo and just that fast it's flying through the air to wrap around the boy.
"Batman!" Clark chides, but he doesn't move to intervene.
"Hey!" he yelps, and immediately starts to struggle, calling both of them names that would make Alfred frown and give him THAT LOOK.
"You had your chance," he says to Clark as he advances on the captive boy. "Stop struggling." He pulls out a little needle and vial. Blood is best, but he'll take hair and a bucal swab as well.
“And let you make another Robin clone! No way!" Tim continues to struggle, moving constantly to make things as hard on fake Batman as possible.
"Hang on. Look- will fingerprints work, Batman?"
"Not enough. I'm not taking chances." He looks to the boy, then reaches in his pouch. Grabbing the gas canister in his palm, he sprays the boy.
“Batman!" he objects, grabbing his hand firmly.
"It's this or I hit him."
"You don't need to sedate him. Let's- let's just start with fingerprints and see what happens."
Tim glares at him--still holding his breath. He's been holding it since he saw fake Batman reach for his fake belt.
"NOT good enough. And I'm not having him see where the Cave is."
“It's a start. Look, there's obviously more going on here than any of us know about, but we don't need to resort to violence."
"Like I don't already know?!"
“You have other places you can run his prints, Batman."
"None I want him seeing," Bruce repeats.
"Then take them there. I'll watch him while you're gone. It shouldn't take too long for you to get there and back." They are in the Wayne Enterprises building, after all.
“And if it confirms your guess. I'm still going to need his DNA." He's not going to take any chances.
"You can't have it. It's mine."
"If it confirms it- or doesn't- he might at least be more willing to work with us." He hesitates. "Batman- I don't think any of us know what's going on here, but I don't think he's lying- or at least, I don't think he thinks he is. He probably wants answers just as much as we do."
"Then he can give me what I need to get those answers."
He glances imploringly at the boy.
Tim glares back at them. "No DNA."
"Don't make me get the kryptonite," Batman says, looking at the hand on his wrist.
“Tim," he says reasonably, using the name for emphasis, "If we only wanted your DNA, would I have stopped him now? We just want answers. Please, work with us."
He removes his hand, but doesn't pull it back.
"No real names in the field, Clark," he snaps, using Superman's name to make the point.
He blinks a little in surprise at the boy's use of his name, then glances at Bruce as if to say "see?"
"I see that someone has fed him information."
"Yeah--Batman," Tim says, glowering at him. "The real one."
"We don't know what's going on, Batman." He turns to the boy again. "We need a DNA sample. Please, work with us here. We all want to find out what's going on."
"If he doesn't, I'm gassing him."
Clark gives him a look as if to say "you are not helping."
"Don't even think about it," Tim spits. "And you can't have my DNA. I need it."
The hand snaps out and he's gassing the kid.
Tim glares at him through the gas, even though it makes his eyes water a little. Does he really think that trick's going to work now? When it hadn't before?
"Batman!" He grabs his hand again. "For the love of Rao- if you're so insistent on taking a DNA sample, fine- take one and leave him here with me while you analyze it. But you don't need to knock him out."
Yes, he's holding his breath. So the punch goes to the solar plexus. He snarks at Clark. "How much of an IDIOT are you?!" he demands. "Are you WANTING the needle to snap off in his arm?!"
Tim gasps and coughs, sucking in a lungful of the gas. No fair.
"Batman!" He glances over at the boy as he passes out at last and sighs. "For the love of-" he sighs, letting go of his arm. "You're impossible to reason with."
Bruce ignores him and gets the blood sample. The hair. And a bucal swab. "You can watch him," he says sweeping out the room.
Clark sighs again as he watches the man leave, lifting the unconscious boy and settling him gently in one of the chairs.
Honestly...
Bruce comes back. it really hadn't take long. He'd just gone down to the auxiliary cave in the basement.
He hands the print-outs to Clark.
Clark is sitting in one of the chairs, watching Bruce with a vaguely exasperated expression.
He accepts it, looking it over. His brows knit together as he reads, a puzzled expression playing over his features.
Tim stirs a little and... he has a headache. And he just bets that fake Batman got his stupid DNA sample. He opens his eyes and glares irritably at both of them. "So when should I expect Robin 3.0?"
Clark hands him the printout silently.
Tim takes it and looks at it blankly. "So... what? This says I'm classified as human?"
"And that you are Tim Drake. Son of Janet and Jake Drake."
“Those aren't my parent's names."
Bruce's eyes narrow. Again.
"He's obviously a clone," Bruce pronounces, pointing to the finger prints. Great. Another Kon-El fiasco. With HIS Robin.
"What?!" Tim cries indignantly. "I'm not a clone!"
"That would seem the most likely explanation," Clark agrees. "But why would his memory be different?"
"Did Kon have all your memories?" Bruce asks pointedly.
"No. But he didn't have ones that directly contradicted reality, either."
A scowl. "He was raised here. We don't know where this one is from," he points out.
Tim folds his arms across his chest and glares at both of them. "I have no idea what either of you are talking about. And if I was a clone, would I have memories of being a kid?"
'Where would he be from, that he'd have different memories?"
“Yes. If you had been allowed to mature normally."
“I've seen enough things in my time to make me doubt ours is the only reality."
"An alternate reality? It wouldn't surprise me, but- a clone from an alternate reality?"
Tim eyes both of them with new suspicion. There's an alternate reality he's heard of, with strict instructions to find his way back as soon as possible if he ever lands there. "I don't suppose the words "Justice Lords" mean anything to you?"
"So it would seem. I have no other explanation for the finger print discrepancy."
Bruce looks at him. "No. What does it mean to you?"
"Would someone from an alternate reality- no cloning involved- have the same fingerprints? Do we have any records of that?"
Bruce frowns. "No. We don't."
He relaxes... slightly. "Bad," he says flatly.
"Bad how?"
Clark turns to look with interest as well.
"Are they from your world?"
"No. They're from another world. The Justice League met them. They took over their world, though. Became dictators. Their Superman lobotomized bad guys, and they tried to do it to our world, too, but the Justice League stopped them. Along with Lex Luthor and the other Batman." He looked between the two of them. "But you're not them. Right?"
"No, we're not," Clark reassures him.
Well that is. Interesting. "Okay, time for you to tell us about your world. And your batman."
“That's... a lot of ground," Tim says, frowning. "Can you be more specific?"
What's the last thing you remember?" Clark asks. Maybe they can at least figure out how he got here, and how to get him back to his universe.
Tim shrugs a little. "Patrol. Jason Blood was dealing with some magic thing and Batman told me to steer clear, in case things got out of hand. I had to go by there, but I didn't get close enough to get zapped. After, I came here to leave a funny note on the computer, and saw his post." He frowns. "It was weird. Like he was trying to be funny, only he never does that unless he's faking for some society thing."
Bruce frowns at the boy.
He is working on his sense of humor.
Clark's not really sure what 'post' he's talking about, but it's not really important. "Magic?"
"Not my area of expertise," Tim says, shrugging again. "I know just enough to stay away."
"It would explain much," Bruce adds. "I'm going to call Robin." He goes to the computer and types a note: 'We have your look-alike. Come to the office.'
"Should we call in Jason Blood, too? He might have some idea of what's going on."
'On my way. ETA: 15 minutes.'
"I will." He nods to Tim. "He can't stay here."
"I agree. Do you want to take him back to your place?" He turns to the boy- Tim. "Would you agree to that?"
Tim eyes him warily. "Only if he's not gonna gas me again."
Clark can't quite suppress the start of an amused laugh.
"Hn." He frowns. "Fine."
"But for now, we wait. Robin will be here shortly."
Tim makes his way to WE as quickly as his bike can manage--which is pretty quickly--and lets himself in through the window, and--Bruce is there. With Clark and... "Woah." He glances between the two older heroes. "Mini me?"
"I'm not a clone," the younger Tim mutters.
"Robin." The Bat nods to the older boy and gestures him in. "We're operating on conjecture at the moment. I need to take him to STAR labs to test a. Hunch."
"He's teeny." Tim says, a little incredulously. "Was I really that small when I started out?"
Bruce's lips twitch. "Yes."
Clark can't quite suppress a smile.
"Smaller. Actually."
Tim rolls his eyes and shifts in his chair. "I'm not that small. Am I allowed to get up?"
Clark nods. "I don't see why not."
Bruce nods.
"Robin. Anything thoughts on," the lips twitch again, "mini-me?"
He gets up and crosses to the older Robin, circling him warily. "Your cape's way long. How do you even move?"
"You get used to it." He glances over at Bruce. "He's not anything like me at that age. Whatever that age is--how old are you?"
"Fourteen." He lifts the edge of the other Robin's cape and lets out a whistle. "And it's heavy." He glances at Batman. You make him wear this?"
"It's what he trained with," Bruce says evenly.
"Better him than me."
Bruce looks at his cape. "I'm amazed the Dick lasted as long as he did with his half length cape."
"What's wrong with my cape?" he asks, frowning at him and spinning a little to look at it. "I like it."
"It doesn't cover enough. Robins is fire-retardant and large enough to cover him and two adults if needed."
Clark clears his throat for quietly attention, eyes still twinkling with amusement. "Batman- I'm sorry to interrupt, but I don't think any of you need me here at this point, and I do have a deadline to make..."
"Mine doesn't catch on fire." Though it's really only big enough to cover him. He frowns thoughtfully at the other Robin and his cape. Nah. Not worth it. That cape looks like a pain in the ass.
Bruce nods to Clark "Fine."
Clark nods again, clapping a hand on Batman's shoulder as he leaves. "Keep me informed. If there's anything I can do to help, just go ahead and give me a call." If the man's not too stubborn to do so.
Then he's out the window, on his way back to Metropolis.
Tim looks at Bruce, raising an eyebrow. "What are we going to do with him?"
"Find a way to send him home." Did that really sound as tired as he feels. "The Cave is rather. Full. At the moment."
Tim eyes both of them with surprise. "Don't tell me you guys actually sleep down there? You know, there's a big house on top of the ground with lots of way more comfy places to sleep."
Bruce eyes the little one. "It's not something that need concern you."
"Ooookay," Tim says, shrugging a little. "But I'm not sleeping in an interrogation cell."
The older Robin glances at Bruce with a raised eyebrow.
"That's not an option."
"Good." He pauses looking at them curiously. "Do you have someone in there already? Who? Anyone I know? I mean--from my world, only your world's version."
"No one you know." Hopefully. That would be too messy for words.
The older Tim blinks in surprise at Bruce. He doesn't? Well... that's different. He knew who Jason was--even at his little doppelganger's age.
Bruce explains, "He says he's the second Robin."
"Second?" Tim asks incredulously, and looks closer at the little Robin. "You're definitely me," he says, and this time he's doing the circling. "I'd recognize that dumb cowlick anywhere, but... How are you the second Robin?"
Bruce frowns. "At this point. I can live with out that answer," he says firmly.
"You're not? Oh--yeah. He mentioned three Robins. You're the third one? Because Nightwing was the first one. That's got to be the same." He glances at Batman, and shrugs a little. "Okay." He guesses the rest of the story's pretty much the same--except with another Robin in there somehow. Weird.
"I'll make a call. Then we'll head to STARlabs."
The younger Tim sighs and slouches a little, frowning. "I'm not a clone."
Bruce ignores him. He makes the call, and gets a hold of his contact. "They'll be waiting for us. The car is down stairs." He doesn't' look back at the pair as he heads for the stairs.
Both Robins follow. The younger one is sulking a little, but the older Tim is actually... really curious. "Where did you come from?" he asks as they make their way down the stairs and toward the car.
He looks back at him. "Gotham. Obviously."
Tim whacks him lightly on the back of the head. "Smartass."
Bruce takes off the holographic camouflage and unlocks the car. "In," he directs tersely. Though really, it's more then a bit of a relief that Tim isn't having a problem with their new arrival as with Jason.
"Shotgun," the younger Tim calls out.
Tim snorts. "In your dreams. I'm older, and I have longer legs. Back seat, kiddo."
Bruce's lips twitch. He clamps down on that hard. Then he's driving. Fast. They need to get the young Tim home.
At STARlabs, he pulls around back and then marches the boys through a service entrance. AFTER taking care of observance. Into the lab. "On the table, Tim. We'll see if there is any temporal displacement residue."
Tim wrinkles his nose as he boosts himself up onto the table. "Like--goo that's stuck on my from time travel? Eeeew."
“It's not physical," he assures the boy as he calibrates the controls.
The older Robin bites down on a laugh. This kid is a riot.
"If you say so," he says doubtfully. "But you can get it off, right? If it's there?"
"Well. You are. From a another universe. I might." He frowns, trying to work the instruments to get a fix onto the RIGHT universe. Not that he know how to send him back. Yet.
"Hm." He swings out his feet, sighing a little. "How long will this take? Do I have that temporal whatsit?"
"Yes. Now I'm trying to track it."
"How do you do that?"
"I need to recalibrate the instruments."
"Will it take a long time? Words like 'calibrate' usually mean something takes a long time."
"We'll find out," he drones.
Tim puts a hand up over his mouth, trying to look thoughtful instead of amused. He was... kind of a pest. And he's going to drive Bruce nuts.
Stay tuned in noonesson for more!