Just a couple of notes: First, I do not own any of the characters mentioned below. I do not have permission to use them, but I am making no money from this, so please accept my excuse that imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, and don't sue. I have no money, so it wouldn't be worth your time. Second, for above-mentioned reason, I do not get current comic book subscriptions, and I am positive that I do not follow current continuity. Most of this is ignorance; part is on purpose. For example, I don't like Spoiler. So, since I'm writing this story, guess what? She doesn't exist or at least isn't a part of the Batclan. Tim doesn't really have a current love interest, although I kind of like the Batgirl/Robin idea. Nothing like old tried and true plot devices. Last, this is my first fic ever, so please review! I've read a lot of fic's but I've never written any before, so any advice would be appreciated. Thanks, krtshadow

Chapter 1: Confrontations and Conversations

I have to admit that P.E is one of my worst classes. Normally, people hate P.E because they're not in very good shape or they never win the games or reasons like that. Well, I'm different. I enjoy a good workout. Unfortunately, I have a little alter ego problem. See, the me that likes to work out and kick butt and be competitive is not the me that is taking this P.E class. And there is something very disturbing about having to lose in wrestling to Jamie Thurns, who couldn't run a half of a mile without passing out. It's even more wrong when I happen to know that I could take every person in this room, including the coach. Heck, I could take most of them all at once. But, guess what, wrong me. So, I lose. Again.

By now, you probably think that I have a serious split personality disorder. Sometimes I wonder myself. But it's more complex than that. See, I have a night job. And its not flipping burgers or pushing dope. No, yours truly is Robin. The Boy Wonder. Sidekick to Batman. Leader of Young Justice. Hero.

Weird, huh?

Anyway, I really do not need the stress of anybody knowing about my "job". If even one person in this room thought that I was Robin, the news would be back to my dad within the hour. Within two, I would be dead, by my own father's hand. Then Batman would raise me from the dead so he could kill me again. You think I'm joking? I wish.

Jamie grabs me by the waist. I have no idea what he's trying to do, unless its copying some move he saw on WWE. There is no way that he could take anybody with that hold, much less me. I amuse myself in these classes by thinking about how I could break different holds. This one is so easy I don't even think about it. Knee to the nose. You don't even need to know Kung Fu for that one. Then while Jamie was curled in a ball, clutching his broken nose, I'd knock him out with a karate chop to the back of the neck. Or a punch to the nose. Or I could break both his arms. Hmm, I'm getting violent, I need to get out and kick some tail tonight. I basically fall to the mat all by myself, and I let Jamie pin me. Ok, I've lost two, I'm not going to win the match, but Jamie, next round, you are mine.

I'm going to enjoy this, I only let myself win at this about a tenth of the time. The rest of the time I am Tim Drake, pushover. So, this time, I twist as Jamie comes towards me, and like the idiot that he is he rushes by and lets me get behind him. Bad move. Cue the sinister music. I get him in a headlock and decide to have some fun. He grabs futilely for me, and I manage to avoid him without looking too talented. Some of the other kids start to notice, and laugh as I force Jamie lower and lower, till he's almost literally bending over backwards. Since he's getting red in the face from anger and pain, I finally take mercy and pin him, just as the bell rings.

I head for the showers, grateful that this is the last class of the day, and in a couple of hours it will be dark enough for me to sneak out of Brentwood and home to the cave. Yeah, I guess I think about the cave as home, in one sense anyway. It's always been the one place that I've belonged. Well, most of the time. Anything to do with Jean-Paul doesn't count. Then to be out in the night, with Batman or on my own, ah heaven. Maybe Dick will show up, I haven't seen him around for a while. I hope he hasn't had another fight with Bruce. I swear, if those two get any more like each other they'll have to kill each other. The funny thing is that neither really realizes that they are so similar. But its true, Dick has become Bruce's son in more than just name. Great, two of Bruce, that's a really scary thought. At least Bruce and I seem to be getting along reasonably well. As long as I follow orders. But that's ok most of the time, I realize that he's forgotten more about the vigilante thing than I'll ever know. If he ever forgets anything, that is.

I don't even realize how preoccupied I am until I look up from my locker after my shower and realize that I'm alone and surrounded by Jamie and a couple of his supposedly tough friends. I say supposedly because although they try to act tough, they tend to avoid fights. I guess today is the exception to the rule because they all look like they are getting ready to hand me a serious pounding. Jamie smirks, "Not so funny now is it, Mallard. Guess you wish you hadn't embarrassed me now. We'll show you."

Ooh, unique threats. But Mallard? Oh yeah, Drake, Mallard, really funny. I guess some people would be hurt to be called a male duck, but I have Dick for an older "brother". I've been insulted. Jamie has a ways to go before he reaches the level that Dick's insults are at. That guy takes a common argument to a whole new level. Now, lets see, how to get out of this without getting hurt, giving away the secret, or hurting Jamie and company. I'm placing less and less value on number three. Oh well, for the sake of the secret, I'll let them push me around a little. I spread my hands out wide and shrug, "Hey man, no hard feelings, I was just embarrassed that you threw me so easy the first couple of times. I just got lucky, you guys know that I'm not very good at that kind of stuff."

Jamie's pals are beginning to look less interested. Maybe I'm not acting terrified or something. Well, too bad. One of them wanders out, mumbling something about a waste of time, and calling his girlfriend. Poor girl. She probably needs therapy or something. Now we're down to two, Jamie and his pal with the self-chosen nickname Bruiser. The stupidity of some people amazes me. Bruiser pushes me up against the lockers and punches me in the stomach once. Since I saw it coming a mile off, I'm pretty well braced, but it still hurts. My breath rushes out of me, and I go over my options as I gasp for air. One, knock them both out. Tempting, but there's the secret to think about. Two, try to talk my way out of this. Humiliating, but definitely a better option. Maybe a mixture of the two would work.

With this in mind, I grab Bruiser's fingers and bend one of them back almost to the breaking point. This hurts, especially when done by an expert, which I am. He yelps. I look him right in the eye and growl, "I may be bad at wrestling, but Dad made me learn self defense when I was 12." Then I let him go, and Bruiser wisely decides that humiliating me is not worth it and leaves. Since Jamie is really a coward when he's all by himself, he contents him self to a warning. "Watch yourself, Mallard." As he turns toward the door he mutters something incredibly obscene about my mother. My world turns red, and I start for him, fully intending to rearrange his face for that remark.

I pull myself short as he walks out the door. Lucky guy, the secret is the only thing that is keeping him out of the hospital tonight. Frustrated, I take out my anger at Jamie on the nearest locker. Although the dent is large and my knuckles are stinging, it really didn't help. I wish I wasn't such a wuss. I wish I didn't have to be such a wuss. I really need some stress relief butt whuppng tonight.

Well, it's finally dark enough to sneak out. I sure hope that somebody is at the cave, I don't feel like being alone tonight. Jamie's comment still rankles deep inside of me. Anybody else would have fought him over that. Sometimes I hate what Robin has made Tim Drake become. Sometimes the line gets blurry, and I think that Robin is me, and Tim is the costume I put on. I use my brains and my training while I'm Robin. While I'm Tim, I'm just another poor little rich boy, with too much money, and not enough friends. Even my best friends are friends with Robin, not Tim.

On the way to the manor, I creep up to my house, and look in the dining room window. Dad is there with Dana, talking over drinks and dessert. They look happy. Yet another place where I don't fit in. Robin wouldn't care, but Tim does.

I enter the cave by one of the back entrances, changing into Robin as I go deeper into the cave. Time to get to work. Nobody's at the cave, although Bruce left me a message, telling me to plan on my normal patrol. Ok, I can do that. I head to the garage portion of the cave, looking sadly at my car, the Redbird. Harold is updating something in the engine, along with converting the body to a slightly more bullet safe style. What I really want is Nightwing's bullet absorbing stuff, but Bruce says that it's not quite as effective as what Harold is currently installing. I looked at the specs, it's something like 0.00017 percent less effective. And it's so much cooler. Ha, try explaining that to the Bat. So, I grab one of the standard black motorcycles. Well, standard for the Batclan, that is. This thing's got more tricks, secret weapons, and protective stuff on it than most tanks. I prefer the Redbird, but I really don't mind when I have to use one of these babies. I tear out of the cave, heading for the lights, sounds, and crime of Gotham.

Just my luck. Gotham is actually quiet tonight. Oh, there have been a couple of muggings, suicide threats, and an attempted murder, but nothing that GCPD can't handle. I'm on my own tonight. I haven't seen Batman or Batgirl. Cassandra usually patrols a totally different area than I do, but sometimes I run into Bruce. I consider it a big accomplishment if I can find him on patrol. So far, it's only happened a few times when he wasn't actually waving to me to tell me where he was.

Bruce has been sending me out alone more than he used to. I choose to think that this is because he realizes I can handle most problems, and trusts me to call for help if I need it. However, he is Batman, it could mean that I slow him down or that he doesn't need me. It could also be a series of tests. It could be for some reason that I'm not smart enough to even think of. Dwelling on the reasons that Bruce does things is a good way to guarantee admittance into an insane asylum.

Jeez, I'm actually bored. Maybe Oracle has something for me to do. "Oracle, this is Robin. You there?"

"Where else, Boy Wonder. What can I do for you? Blueprints? Security system codes? Directions to the nearest bathroom? Anything?" There was a note of laughter in Oracles voice.

"Whoa, you're bored too?" This must be a first. Usually when I call, Barbara is up to her neck in researching something or another, if not directing one of her operatives in saving the world. This is not a good sign, it means she probably doesn't have anything for me to do, either. Dang!

"Too? Drat, why is Gotham either dull or screaming like the furies? I really shouldn't complain," Oracle sounded slightly ashamed of her boredom, "but, I don't have anything to do. Except clean the kitchen, and I'd rather do anything else…"

"Ha, so you need to clean your clock!"

"Ow. Please, no puns, I really don't need another punster hanging around. Dick's bad enough. Don't fall to his level. Tell you what," She sounds hopeful, this can't be good. "Drop by and you can clean my kitchen for me, while you wait for something to do. I'm sure I can think of someway to repay you."

I think about refusing, but Barbara and I actually have a pretty good friendship, and I don't mind helping her out. Plus, she's just about the only way for me to get any dirt on Dick anymore. Still, I'm not going to do it for free. Maybe she can give me some advice on how to deal with my problems with the identity thing. "So, you want me to clean your clock? " I chuckle as Oracle moans. I just couldn't resist, maybe Dick is rubbing off on me. "Ok, I'll do it, but only in exchange for a little advice."

I could mentally see Oracle perk up. Typical girl, she loves to give advice. "Advice, huh? Girl advice?" Her voice took on a decidedly wicked tone. "I happen to know that I can sell any information regarding your love life to any one of several people. Hmm, I could probably even hold an auction. Come right onnn over." If I had girl questions, I would be running by now. Like maybe to San Francisco. Or Hong Kong.

I swing down off of my perch from the top of the 1st Bank of Gotham, and rev up my motor cycle. "Thanks for warning me. Out of curiosity, who'd win the info?"

"Oh definitely Dick, although Young Justice might be able to pool their money and beat him out."

"Ouch." Nearing the clock tower, I park the bike in an abandoned warehouse, conveniently owned by Wayne Enterprises. I grapple to the top of a nearby building, so I can scan the area good before I head over to the roof of the clock tower. The last thing Barbara needs is somebody asking why Robin was wandering around her place. Reaching the top, I lean against a convenient stairwell as I check out the surroundings with a pair of night vision binoculars. "I'm not sure which would be worse." As I scan, I consider my love life secrets in the hands of my friends. Young Justice would tease me mercilessly, and it would get around, since none of them can keep their mouths shut. Still, I think that I'd prefer YJ knowing my secrets than Nightwing. Dick wouldn't even let on that he knew, he'd just set up a whole series of incredibly embarrassing pranks that would make me look like an idiot in front of her. Dang, and he's really good at that kinda stuff, too. Better to keep my secrets to myself if at all possible. Maybe that's my problem, I really don't have even one person that I can totally let down my guard with. Not that I don't trust Dick or Barbara, I'd risk my life on a guess that either one of them made. But, the truth is that they are older than I am, and tend to have private jokes. Don't get me wrong, I think that their relationship is great, and I hope I can find a woman like Barbara in a few years. But the people that I'm mentally on the same level with are years older than I am, and my age group seems absolutely stupid sometimes. Oh what a tangled life I have.

All clear. "Oracle, I'm heading over. Want me to test your security?"

"Only if you feel real lucky, pal." Oracle's laugh had a decidedly malicious tone.

Oh boy, she's upgraded again, and she wants a guinea pig. She swears up and down that one day she'll come up with a system that will keep Bruce and Dick out. So far, she hasn't yet. I can't break in as easily as they do, but I do pretty well. I don't even try unless she knows about it. I can't help it. I am a teenage boy. I have a huge fear of girls doing something weird when they don't know that I'm watching. Barbara might do something like strip or something, not that I'd mind that. I just don't want to deal with her after she found out that I was there. She doesn't mean to but she intimidates me sometimes, so I just try to keep on her good side. Dick obviously doesn't have the same fears that I have, either that or he knows Barbara won't mind if he just drops in. Even if… no, I refuse to go there, even mentally.

"Hello, are you there?" Oracle is probably wondering where I am.

"Ok, I'll be over in a minute. Just a quick question?"

"Shoot."

"These new security measures, are they lethal?"

"Hey, how did… oh yeah, detective in training. Right. And why should I tell you? Get in if you can. I'll notify your next of kin." Oracle cut the connection.

Ooh, she sounds pretty confident about this new stuff. Since the coast is clear, I anchor my d-cel line, and swing over to the roof of the tower. Now, I have to think. There are three easy ways into the clock tower, the roof access, a fire escape, and the front entrance. She has the front door wired to gas anyone without the proper code, the fire escape is electrified with enough volts to kill an elephant. The roof access is set up with a very complicated computerized system complete with tazers, lasers, and poisoned darts. There is one hard way into the tower which involves getting into the insulation in the roof, and bypassing several booby traps, and knowing a few codes, and using a diamond cutter, a gas mask, several other high tech inventions that the military would pay high bucks for, along with a huge dose of pure, unadulterated Batclan luck. Well, since when do I ever do anything easy. I take a deep breath and get started.

I'm all the way to the knowing the codes step, when I hit trouble. Here I am on my stomach, surrounded by itchy insulation, and messing with a few wires inside a wall panel, hopefully in order to bypass the eye scan necessary to get all the way into Oracles workroom. Since this is a test, Oracle has probably informed her computer that my eye makes me a #1 threat, and to use excessive force. However, I actually think that I'm really close to getting it, and winning this round of Robin vs. Oracle, when a steady beeping starts emitting from somewhere near me. Dang, I set something off. I probably have about ten seconds or so to find what it is, where it is, and input a code which I don't know, or it will… do what ever it does, which I can guarantee is not good for my health. Dang, I lost again. I activate my comm link, and say those aggravating words, "I surrender."

Oracle lets the beeps continue for a few more seconds, just to give me a heart attack, then shuts it down and activates the eye scan screen and clears it. I crawl on out and through the panel and drop into Oracle's computer room. She is waiting with a very self-satisfied look on her face. I sweep her a low bow, "Once again, the almighty Oracle wins. I salute you, the victor"

"You know that is the one thing I like about you, you are so honest. I don't think anybody else would tell me that even if it were true. Can I get you something to drink?" Stupid question, and she knows it. She tosses me a soft drink. I snag it out of the air. Ahh, caffeine.

"Well, since I think that you are talking mainly about Bruce and Dick, I should inform you that they would have made it through, so they wouldn't have to admit it. I'm just not as good as they are as this kind of stuff."

Barbara looks at me kind of funny. "Yet. And you got way farther than I thought that you would. Tell me how you got past my traps." She gives me her best interrogator stare, and flips her desk lamp so that it shines in my eyes.

"Ah, ah, ah, that would be telling." I flip over a chair to escape the light and land in a pile on her couch.

"Drat, that never works." She looks dejected for about two seconds and then brightens. "I think that you mentioned something about cleaning my kitchen and advice. I can help you on both counts. Kitchen's right this way," She set the computer to automatic relay to her headset, and wheeled on into the kitchen. Oh my gosh. She really does need to clean, either that or actually throw away take out boxes. The sink is piled with dishes, the trash can is overflowing, and the microwave looks like one of those ravioli TV dinners exploded inside. Barbara gives me a rather weak look, "See, I told you…"

I remove my cape and drape it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. It's actually clean, probably because Barbara never uses it. The gloves and utility belt follow the cape. I actually feel rather strange without all that paraphernalia. Strange, and about 15 pounds lighter. I start to work, bagging up the garbage first and then loading the dishwasher. "Jeez, you really let it get bad, Babs. What gives? You're usually pretty neat. You been working too hard?"

She grins at me, "Of course I'm working too hard, duh. Actually the last couple of days have been pretty hectic. Finding time to eat and sleep was getting tough there for awhile, much less cleaning up. Plus, I knew I could con somebody into helping." She grabs a wash cloth and rolls over to the microwave to start scrubbing.

"Oh wow, now I feel special… um, Barbara?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

She laughs, and takes a swing at me with her rag, "Smart boy. I was just thinking that you've grown up an awful lot in the last couple of months. And…" Her voice trails off as she gets a roguish grin on her face. "And, I was thinking that you must have inherited the traditional batboy fine butt. I don't think that I've ever seen you in costume without the cape. Very nice."

Sheesh, now I'm really glad Bruce has been teaching me to control my facial reactions. With extreme effort, I am able to keep the blush to my ears only. Maybe she didn't notice… yeah, right. She snickers, and I change the subject as quickly as I can. "Um, thanks, um, about that advice?"

"Yes! I was hoping that you would remember to ask! Tell me, spill, out with all of your secrets." Barbara does her impression of a greedy Ebenezer Scrooge as she tosses her dirty rag in the sink and shuts the now sparkling microwave. I close and start the dishwasher and run a rag over the counter. Looking good, if I do say so myself. Not perfect, but much better. I swing up to sit on the counter, and prepare to tell Barbara all about my trouble of not being a very good Tim anymore, and about Jamie and how I want to kick his butt every time I see him, and ask how to balance my real life as Robin with my fake life as Tim.

But before we can even get started with our deep philosophical discussion, Barbara's headset goes off and she heads for her computer at about 60 mph. I grab my gear and return it to its normal positions, as I follow her at a quick jog. By the time that I reach the computer room, Oracle is already plugged in and saying, "Oracle, go ahead."

" Hey, Babs, is anybody free?" Gunshots sound faintly in the background as Nightwing's voice filters through the speakers. "I could use a little back up if it is at all possible. Whoa, gotta move, back in a second." The connection cut off abruptly, and came back in about 30 seconds as Barbara and I worry. "Sorry, I'm ok, let me get through this and I'll fill you in." The sound of chaos takes the place of Nightwing's voice.

I head for the door. Barbara stops me. "Wait, if he's in Bludhaven, I have a quicker way for you to get there than your car."

"Actually, I'm on a bike tonight, so any quicker way would be appreciated. What do you have?"

"Hold on, he's coming through again." Oracle whipped around and looked at Nightwing's image on the screen. He was looking in his wrist cam and breathing heavily.

"Sorry about that. Do you have any one that you can get over here within 30 minutes. I've got crooks coming out my ears down here. Not to mention, they all seem to be looking for little old me."

"Robin can be there in less than 20, I'll hook you both up when he gets there. Anything else?"

Nightwing shook his head and readied his jump line. "Hey, glad he can get here so fast, you'll have to tell me how you're managing that later. Gotta run!" The connection went fuzzy as Oracle turned towards me and pushed me towards the elevator.

"Hey, where we going? I can't get to Bludhaven in less than 20 minutes." I was beginning to wonder if Oracle had her own helicopter she would let me borrow, when she sent the elevator down, instead of to the roof, like I was expecting. She was furiously tapping away on her laptop, as we neared the basement.

I noticed that she looked worried. She always gets rather frantic when Dick is in trouble. She'd die before she'd show it to him though. Jeez, women. I can only hope I'll figure them out someday. However, according to miscellaneous males, I'd say my chances are rather low. We hit the basement, and she leads the way out. "Ok, you know the GART, right?" She waves me through another doorway.

"Uh, yeah. Gotham Area Rapid Transit. No way I can catch a train dressed like this."

"Who said anything about catching a train? We're gonna commandeer a train, and get you to Bludhaven. Really fast."

Oh boy…

Whew, how's that for a first chapter? I really would appreciate some feedback. Like I said, 1st fic. This one won't be all that long, maybe just a couple of more chapters, but I have some ideas for a longer one. You might call this my test… Also, I can't think of a very good title, so that's open to suggestions too.

Thanks, krtshadow