"Tim?"
"Yes?"
"Why are you in my bed?" Dick asked. He flicked the light in his bedroom on and saw that Tim, clad in his Red Robin uniform, lounging on Dick's bed, flipping through a catalog.
"I was waiting for you to get home." Tim shrugged.
"I gave you that key for emergencies." Dick scolded.
"Barbra wants this sweater for her birthday." Tim turned the catalog around to show Dick a blue sweater on the page.
"Why are you telling me this?" Dick asked.
"Because she wants it." Tim shrugged.
"I was going to get her-" Dick began to explain.
"She wants this." Tim interrupted.
"You didn't let me finish." Dick crossed his arms.
"For her last birthday you got her a pen." Tim blinked.
"It was a pen with a bat symbol light in it." Dick defended his gift.
"Dick. She wants this." Tim pointed to the page again. Dick sighed and took the catalog from Tim's hands.
"This is thirty bucks." Dick said in shock.
"You bought her a pen." Tim raised his eyebrow.
"Ugh. Fine. I'll get her the sweater. But will you return this gift for me?" Dick asked, passing a box the size of his palm to Tim.
"What is it?" Tim asked, opening it.
"It's a charm bracelet. It's one of those ones you can just keep adding to. I got her a computer charm and one with a bat." Dick shrugged.
Tim glanced down at it.
"Oracle. You'll like this better." He pressed the button on his cowl and spoke.
"Barbra's been listening? She knows what I'm getting her for her birthday?" Dick asked, snatching the box back.
"She said she'll act surprised." Tim offered up.
"Babs? What do you want to do for your birthday dinner?" Dick sighed, rubbing his temple.
Tim nodded as he listened to what Barbra was saying.
"She said to pick her up at 7, take her to her favorite restaurant, and back to your place for dessert." Tim winked.
"Thanks, Tim. Please get out of my apartment now. I have a bracelet to wrap." Dick sighed again and pointed to the bedroom door.
"Glad I could be of assistance." Tim smiled, happy with himself. He ignored Dick's gesture and instead hopped on the dresser, threw open the window, and leapt out.
"Oracle. If you still want that sweater, I think Jason is still looking for a gift idea." He said as he drifted.
Tim sighed at the work on the desk in front of him. He had just returned from patrol and hadn't even gotten out of his uniform. He had so much case work to do. He was perched on a chair at the desk in the cave.
Suddenly, a red helmet was thunked down on top of his papers.
"I got into a fight with Harley Quinn, and look at what she did." Jason pointed out. Tim stared at the helmet. One of the eye covers was missing and there was a noticeable scratch from above the missing eye cover to the chin.
"How did she do that?" Tim asked, examining the scratch.
"She did a cartwheel and got me in the face with her fucking heal." Jason seemed about ready to explode. "Ugh! I'm going to the training room. I have to blow off some of this steam. Fucking bitch got me in face with her stupid fucking boot." Jason grumbled to himself as he walked across the cave to the training room. Tim watched him until he slammed the door.
He looked back at the helmet. It was only a surface scratch. And he just had to replace the camera screen in the eye.
Tim set to work. He went to the work bench and looked for the replacement eye lenses. Once he found one, he used the super glue to put it in place and made sure the transmitter was working. He touched the button by the left eye and looked up to the screen. He saw his face on the monitor.
He took out the scratch filler. Bruce used it on his chest plate all the time.
He gently rubbed it over the helmet with a rag, and once the scratch was filled, he found the paint Jason used to make his new helmet.
Tim dipped a new rag in the paint and buffed it over the scratch until it was seamless.
"Good as new." Tim said, examining his work. He marched himself over to the training room door and threw it open. He saw Jason punching the punching bag in the corner.
"Jason?" Tim asked.
"If you know what's good for you, you'll go back to your work." Jason snapped, delivering one final kick to the punching bag. He turned around where the shooting range was cued up. He stood at the yellow line at the start of the hall of bulletproof glass. At the end was a picture of the Joker.
Tim cringed as he heard Jason fire two shots. He rushed into the room and saw the paper with two holes in it. One in the chest, one right between the eyes.
"I have a surprise." Tim said, lowering Jason's extended, gun-wielding arm.
"Harley Quinn barefoot and weaponless?" Jason asked.
"No." Tim rolled his eyes.
Tim turned on his heal and headed for the door. It was a few moments before he heard Jason following him. He made his way back to the cave.
"Here." Tim pointed to the helmet on the work bench.
"Let me see that." Jason snatched up the helmet, careful to not scratch the paint. "Well I'll be damned. You're good for something, replacement."
"Thanks, Jayce. You're so kind." Tim dead-panned.
"Let's see that blond bitch get at me now." Jason said. He slipped the helmet over his head and looked around.
"How can you see everywhere in that thing?" Tim asked.
"Not about seeing, little red. It's about sensing. This is great. Thanks for fixing it." Jason reached up to pull it off of his head. He gave it a tug and cried out.
"Ow! Fucker!" He shouted.
"What?" Tim asked.
"I think it's stuck in my hair." Jason growled.
"Oh. I guess the superglue wasn't dry yet." Tim shrugged.
"You guess? Come here you little fucker." Jason lunged toward Tim, but Tim was too fast and jumped back.
"Catch me first, Jayce." Tim laughed, heading for the stairs.
"You can run but you can't hide." Jason said, following after.
"Of course not. Because you can sense me, right?" Tim laughed again and bounded up the stairs to the manor.
Tim was tiredly schlepping through the halls in the manor. He had exhausted himself on patrol and needed to get to sleep. When he finally reached his room, he was about to flick on the light, but he noticed his bathroom light was on.
He didn't remember leaving it on.
"Hello?" Tim asked. He heard a squeak and various things clattered to the floor. One pill bottle rolled into the bedroom.
"What the hell?" Tim furiously turned his lights on as Damian came walking sheepishly into the room.
"What are you doing?" Tim asked.
"None of your business, Drake." Damian muttered.
"Well you're going through my medicine chest, so it is my business." Tim put his hands on his hips. "What are you doing?"
"I was looking for something." Damian mumbled.
"What were you looking for?" Tim asked.
"Something to keep my voice from cracking." Damian spoke up. His voice cracked as he spoke.
Tim couldn't contain his laughter. His shoulders shook as he laughed.
"It's not funny!" Damian squeaked. This prompted Tim to laugh harder.
"I'll kill you in your sleep!" Damian shouted.
"Sorry, sorry. You just sound funny." Tim tried to tone down his laughter.
"Help me! I'm already a freak with these powers. Now I sound like a mouse." Damian growled.
"Sit." Tim motioned to his desk. Damian flopped down in the chair and Tim sat on the desk top beside him. "You know, there's not much you can do about the voice thing." Tim explained.
"There has to be something. I'm supposed to sound like a mysterious crime fighter. Not an adolescent boy." Damian crossed his arms.
"Hate to break it to you, but you are an adolescent boy." Tim ruffled Damian's hair. "But you can try cough drops and warm drinks. Lots of water. And tea."
"Is that what you did?" Damian asked curiously.
"Yeah. I hit puberty a little later than you, so when I started as Robin, I sounded awful." Tim explained.
"Did it work?"
"It helped. But it didn't stop it from happening. At least you're not out on patrol yet. You might be over it when you go back out anyways." Tim shrugged.
"This is ridiculous. I shouldn't be subjected to stupid hormone changes." Damian crossed his arms and scoffed.
"This isn't even the worst of it, Kid." Tim laughed to himself.
"How can it not be the worst? I sound like nails on a chalk board." Damian snapped.
"I thought you knew about sex and stuff." Tim pointed out.
"I do. What does that have to do with my voice?" Damian asked.
Tim's eyes widened for a moment. He had, they all had, assumed that Damian came to them with a full knowledge of the human body. He had known about sex. Tim thought that meant Talia had taught him about puberty as well.
"I think we need to have a talk." Tim said.
"Father already talked to me. He told me that I was just growing up." Damian sighed.
"Bruce should never be allowed to give 'the talk.' Jason and I both got that from Dick." Tim rolled his eyes. "He's right though. You are growing up. But that comes with a lot more than just a deeper voice."
Damian listened intently for the next half an hour as Tim explained how he would change and what would happen as he ascended into his teenage years.
"That happens?" Damian asked.
"Absolutely. No reason behind it. Sometimes at school. Sometimes at home. Even on patrol. It's a part of growing up. Your body's just letting you know that changes are happening." Tim explained.
"On patrol? Why would it happen there?" Damian asked. He sounded personally offended about it.
"Because you don't have much control over it yet." Tim shrugged. "Happened to me on patrol once or twice. I remember the time I was fighting Poison Ivy. It was horrible. She hit me with one of her stupid hormone potions. I was mortified. That was when Dick gave me the talk. Nightwing swooped in and got me out of that situation pretty dam fast." Tim laughed at the memory.
"Is that going to happen to me?" Damian asked, astounded.
"Probably. Happens to every guy. Just helps to think of something not at all attractive." Tim explained.
"This is embarrassing." Damian put his head on the desk. Tim laughed and pat Damian's back a few times.
"We can call it a night, if you want." Tim said.
"Oh. That's the other thing." Damian looked up sheepishly.
"What did you do?" Tim groaned.
"I was frustrated with my voice and I kicked one of the legs of my bed and broke it off. My bed is broken." Damian explained.
"You need to get that strength under control." Tim sighed. "Go get your stuff. You can stay in here tonight. We'll fix that in the morning." Damian scurried off, glad to be rid of that conversation.
Tim sighed and hopped off of the desk, and then he pushed the desk chair in. He went over to his bathroom, scooping up the lone pill bottle on the way, and surveyed the damage.
There were 3 other pill bottles on the floor, one popped open. Tim sighed and tried his best to clean up the mess. He situated all the pill bottles in the right location in his medicine cabinet and heard his bedroom door shut as he shut the cabinet.
Tim sauntered back into the bedroom as Damian shuffled over to the bed with his pillow and comforter in tow. He was now in Batman pajamas.
Tim followed suit and changed into plaid red pants and a Robin t-shirt while Damian got his stuff situated.
"You feel better?" Tim asked as he climbed into his side of the bed.
"No! I'm going through a crisis!" Damian snapped at him.
"Don't over dramatize it, Damian. Every guy goes through this. You'll be fine." Tim sighed as Damian angrily curled into a ball. He was amazed how Damian did everything angrily. He ate cereal angrily. He did homework angrily. He even snuggled into blankets angrily.
So aggressive.
"Good night, Kid." Tim reached over to turn off his light.
"Yeah, whatever, Drake." Damian grumbled.
