This came about by me asking the question "What would happen if someone were there when Jason came back to life?" Because miracleprobably isn't going to be their first reaction. Certainly not when they live in Gotham.
—
So, Batman is a little bit crazy right now.
Okay, that's actually a lie, Batman's always been a little bit crazy because you don't become the sort of person who fights crime in a batsuit if you're entirely sane.
So, Batman is a lot crazy right now. Like, a lot a lot. He has been for months, and it isn't getting any better — Tim's got the spreadsheets to prove it, even.
He's "a very mature young man." Everyone tells him so.
With the help of these spreadsheets, Tim has come to the conclusion that Batman needs a Robin, because the same thing happened after Dick moved out, it just wasn't nearly as bad.
So, being a Very Mature Young Man, Tim did the reasonable thing and went to tell Dick he needs to come back and stop Batman's spiral of self-destruction before it has a catastrophic impact on the city.
Dick had glared at him and explained in in short, angry sentences that Batman did not want Dick around, Batman was a grown man, and if Batman wanted him back he'd better bring a lot of cereal and a really good apology with him when he came to Bludhaven to ask Dick to help him again.
Tim gets the feeling that if he was older than twelve, Dick's refusal would have had a lot more than just three cuss words in it.
That, unfortunately, means that Tim has to be the one to explain to Batman that he needs to find a new Robin, but Tim can't see Batman wanting another Robin.
But really, what's the alternative? Let Batman get killed, too?
To heck with that idea.
The only part of the plan that makes him hesitate is that — well, Tim knows enough about the world to realize that, if magic and sorcerers and aliens are all real, then there's a very, very good chance that ghosts are, too.
Tim isn't particularly interested in having a vengeful ghost haunting him for the rest of his life, thanks.
After all, if Tim were a ghost and had to watch some random kid take his place, he might get pretty mad about that, and Tim prides himself on using his logic. Ghosts, on the other hand, are not well known for their logical reasoning.
Maybe Jason's the kind of ghost that can actually follow Batman around, and he already knows that there is a Problem that requires a Robin to solve.
It's just as likely that Jason is trapped with his body — Tim really hopes he isn't stuck at the place of his death, and he got a proper burial and everything, so hopefully it's fine? — and doesn't know how bad Batman's been for the last six months.
If that's the case, then someone should at least fill him in. As the only someone with any sort of a plan, that job falls to Tim.
Obviously.
So here Tim is, with a pitiful, soaked bouquet of roses to put on Jason's grave clenched in one hand and a heavy flashlight in the other, deeply regretting his decision to come out tonight.
Rain pours down in sheets, blown sideways by the wind so it drums into the earth at an angle, even the grass bending beneath it.
No, he'd thought he might lose his nerve if he waited until tomorrow, when it isn't going to be monsooning.
Why in the world would he ever want to avoid pneumonia? Ridiculous.
Waiting for daylight is somewhat less relevant. Tim's been going out at night for years, after all. It's not like he's afraid of the dark.
So here he is, pouring his heart out in the pouring rain, explaining that someone needs to step in before Batman loses his mind completely instead of just mostly.
"I hope it doesn't make you too mad," Tim says when he's explained all his logic, all the carefully reasoned points he memorized, "That I'm going to tell Batman he needs to find a new Robin. Because he does, or else he's going to get hurt really, really bad, and then what? There won't be anybody left to protect Gotham from Joker and Harley and Poison Ivy and Black Mask, anymore."
The howling rain sounds like screams in his ears, agonized and furious at the thought that Batman could die, or maybe that Robin can't rest in peace.
Tim draws in a deep breath and gathers his courage to keep talking, as bravely as he can. "So… if he doesn't agree to pick a Robin… I'm going to make him. I'm going to go in and be Robin when he needs help and I won't give him a choice about it."
Sometimes, people say things like "That would make Dad roll over in her grave," or "Grandma would be rolling in her grave if she knew you were talking like that."
These things are said metaphorically.
Other people will say things like, "My parents would come back to life just to yell at me for doing something that stupid."
These, too, are metaphorical.
When the barista at the local coffee shop comes out as lesbian, she doesn't actually think her incredibly conservative mother is going to come back from the dead to scold her.
When a young man who wants to make a difference decides to join the police force, he doesn't really expect his anarchist father to haunt him for the insult.
The lawyer who attended three different Catholic schools honestly doesn't think her Good Christian Mother is ever going to come back just because she had a child out of wedlock (or an abortion — she hasn't actually decided what to do, yet).
These are normal, everyday things that people say to express that their parents or grandparents or whoever was controlling in life, or that they had very fixed views on how the world should be, or that they would be oh so displeased if they were alive and had anything to say about it.
Given that these people are dead, they typically don't get to add their opinion to the conversation (not that they would have the right to dictate their childrens' lives even if they were, of course).
Not once, when Tim had been considering how Jason might react to the idea of a new Robin, had it crossed his mind that Jason would be so appalled by such an insult that he would actually come back to life to kill Tim for it.
That, Tim realizes as a grasping hand pushes up through the grass in front of Jason's headstone, may have been a grave error.
Fact number one: Jason is currently crawling his way out of his grave. Hopefully. It's hopefully Jason that's crawling out of that grave, because Tim really doesn't want to think about what or who else it would be.
Fact number two: It's been six months since Jason died. If he was somehow buried alive and spent this whole time in his grave, he would be dead from asphyxiation or dehydration. Probably asphyxiation. (Or is that suffocation? There's a word for it but that's not really the issue at hand because holy shit holy shit holy SHIT).
Fact number three: Generally, when people crawl their way out of graves months after their deaths, it's got something to do with zombies.
Conclusion number one: Jason is a zombie.
Fact number four: Zombies eat people.
Fact number five: Tim is a people.
Fact number six: Tim has just insulted Jason by suggesting a new Robin.
Conclusion number two: Zombie-Jason is going to try to eat Tim. He should probably run.
Fact number seven: Some shows and stuff have zombies that are faster and stronger than normal human adults.
Fact number eight: Tim, being tiny because he still hasn't hit his growth spurt (he's not short, boys just grow slower than girls, that's all) is slower and weaker than a normal human adult.
Conclusion number three: If it comes down to it, Tim isn't going to be able to fight off Jason. He needs backup. The only backup that will be able to a) fight off a potential zombie apocalypse, and b) get here fast enough to maybe keep Tim from being eaten, is probably Batman. Superman could do it, too, but Superman doesn't come to Gotham. No metas do.
Well.
This was not how he was planning on revealing his knowledge of Batman's secret identity, but he was planning on the zombie apocalypse happening even less.
Halloween isn't even until next week, Tim thinks despairingly. Souldn't zombie-Jason have waited until then?
Tim privately swears to himself that he is never, ever going to miss a potential outcome again, no matter how crazy it sounds.
"Setting off the zombie apocalypse by trying to get Batman to take on a new Robin" sounds like something only a crazy person would say, and look at how not foreseeing that eventuality is working out!
By the time Tim's come to this conclusion, zombie-Jason has managed to claw enough dirt away to make a rough hole and is now trying to crawl out of it, gasping and choking as he does.
Tim's admittedly weak survival instincts finally kick in, and he sprints away from Jason's grave, frantically pulling out his phone as he goes. He distantly registers dropping the flowers, somewhere in the grass as he flees, but the flashlight he manages to keep hold of, the slim beam of light bouncing from headstone to headstone and then at the grass for a moment before it shines on yet another headstone.
"This is the Wayne—"
"GetBatmanIthinkJason'sazombieandhe'sgonnaeatme!" Tim babbles into the phone.
There's a moment of deeply concerned silence on the other end of the line.
"I beg your pardon?"
"I said," Tim repeats impatiently, gasping as he skids on the slick grass, "You need to get Mr. Wayne because Jason is a zombie and he's gonna eat me! I DON'T WANT TO BE EATEN!"
"Young man," Mr. Pennyworth says sternly into the phone, "This is a very cruel prank. I do not appreciate Master Jason's death being made fun of."
Jason is screaming somewhere behind him, and it only makes Tim pump his legs faster. He almost trips over something, probably another headstone or someone's flowers, but he catches himself and keeps going.
Rage-zombies are definitely worse than groany-zombies.
"Oh my God," Tim whimpers, "I'm not making fun of anyone! I am at the cemetery and Jason just crawled out of his grave to eat me and I need Batman so I don't turn into a zombie! I didn't want to start the zombie apocalypse tonight, Mr. Pennyworth! I didn't want to start the zombie apocalypse, EVER!"
Okay, so Tim is a little bit hysterical right now.
So what?
That is a perfectly reasonable reaction to the current situation.
"...You say Master Jason crawled out of his grave."
Mr. Pennyworth sounds deeply skeptical, which Tim thinks is entirely unfair. How is this any crazier than what the Justice League deals with on a regular basis? Tim's read the news!
He's still sprinting as fast as he can through the cemetery, but he's still a long way from the main gate and he's already starting to slow down.
"Yes," Tim hisses into the phone, his voice rising steadily until it's a shrill screech, "And that means he's a zombie now and I don't like zombies because I am a human boy and zombies eat human boys! Why is this so hard for you to understand?!"
There is another long, skeptical silence on the other end of the line.
"Very well," Mr. Pennyworth says at long last, "I will come look. And if I find that this is a prank, I will take you home to your parents by your ear and let you explain yourself to them."
"No!" Tim yelps into the phone, "Then he'll eat you, too! And then who's going to tell Batman that it's the zombie apocalypse if we're both zombies?!"
"I will not be telling Master Bruce about any of this nonsense, thank you." Mr. Pennyworth's ire is almost tangible through the line. Tim doesn't particularly care, except that it's because he thinks Tim is lying and it means that he won't call Batman.
Unfortunately, it doesn't sound like Tim is going to be able to convince him to bring Batman, and Tim really needs someone with actual equipment to deal with zombies, so he gives in.
"Fine!" He cries. "Fine, fine, but you'd better not blame me when we both get eaten and turn into zombies or I'll say 'I told you so' a hundred times!"
Finally, finally he reaches the gates to the cemetery, the wrought-iron gate cracked carefully open from when Tim snuck in. It couldn't have been more than half an hour ago.
He scrambles out, slamming the gate as hard as he can and clicking the padlock into place with fingers shaking with cold and fear and adrenaline.
Even if Jason can just tear it open, Tim isn't planning on making it easy for him.
When he looks back, straining his eyes and sweeping the flashlight from side to side in the cemetery, he can't see Jason at all. A tiny sigh of relief makes its way through his chattering teeth.
Leaves rustle, and a sharp crack! splits the air behind him.
Tim's head snaps around to try to find whatever it was that moved, but all he sees is grass and dead leaves.
Jason isn't behind him. He doesn't see him in the cemetery, either. If Jason isn't behind him or in the cemetery… then where is he?
Tim lets out a tiny whimper. He needs to hide.
He needs to hide, but there isn't anywhere good, just a big old tree that's still better than nothing.
Zombies can't usually climb well, can they?
So Tim runs over and crams his phone in his hoodie pocket so he can shimmy up the rough bark, scraping his hands when he slips a little.
Once he's finally high enough to feel like Jason isn't just going to jump and pull him down by his ankles, Tim realizes that Mr. Pennyworth is still probably on the line.
Oops.
He tugs his phone awkwardly out of his pocket again.
"—ng man! Young man!" Mr. Pennyworth sounds really upset, but Tim can't tell if he's angry or scared.
"I'm here," Tim pants, "I'm here, he didn't get me, I was just locking the gate and climbing a tree. Do you think it'll keep Jason in? He was Robin so even as a zombie he can probably climb and oh no, what if he's not the only one?"
"Where are you now?" Mr. Pennyworth asks. "I want you to describe to me exactly what happened."
"I'm in a tree, now, because I don't think zombies can climb real well and if zombie-Jason can climb well then it probably means that running isn't going to do me any good because he'll just catch me anyway." Tim gasps in a huge breath and keeps talking, babbling out the story until he's managed to get most of it across. "So I figured I needed Batman and I figured out Bruce Wayne is Batman ages ago and so I called you."
"Did you just say—"
"Yes, Mr. Pennyworth," Tim snaps, "Dick Grayson is the only person in the world currently capable of performing a quadruple somersault and the news had a video of Nightwing doing one, it wasn't hard to figure out. But is that really what you're going to focus on in the face of an impending apocalypse?"
"I have yet to be convinced that there is an apocalypse to be concerned about. You are at the Gotham Cemetery, correct?"
Mr. Pennyworth stays on the phone with Tim the entire time, making Tim talk to him about things like school and how he figured out Bruce Wayne is Batman. It takes ages for him to get here, and Tim can't stop the sound he makes when Jason comes stumbling into sight about ten minutes into the conversation.
"Timothy?" Mr. Pennyworth asks.
"It's him," Tim whispers as softly as he can, "He's almost at the gate. Do you think he'll be able to get out?"
"I suppose it depends on how he came back."
Jason stands there, rattling the gate for a long moment, before he gives up. Jason looks around and starts stumbling away, following along the fence — he's probably looking for a break in it, or a hole he can crawl through.
Tim's breath all leaves in a bit woosh, relief making his whole body sag. He hugs the tree trunk tightly with one arm, the rough bark digging into his fingers.
Mr. Pennyworth pulls up a few minutes later, stepping out of a black car with a long, black gun in one hand. The other holds a phone to his ear.
"Timothy?" He calls.
His voice echoes tinnily through the phone.
"I'm up here," Tim waves. Mr. Pennyworth spots him and comes closer, peering up from the hood of his raincoat once he's tucked the phone away. "Jason went that way."
Mr. Pennyworth frowns at him. "Wouldn't you prefer to wait in the car, where it's warm?"
Tim considers this. It would be nice to get out of the rain.
"No," he decides. "What if Jason turns you into a zombie? You'll be able to get me, then."
"You could lock the doors."
"Wouldn't you just unlock them, though?"
"I don't think zombies tend to have critical thinking skills," Mr. Pennyworth points out. Tim bites his lip. Mr. Pennyworth isn't wrong.
He scrambles down the tree, hoodie sliding up so the bark scrapes across his belly until he's back on the ground. Tim shoots a nervous look at the cemetery and scurries to the car. If Mr. Pennyworth wants to get eaten, that's his choice. Tim is going to hide in the car until he's done being the main character in a horror movie.
First, though — "How do I call Batman if you get eaten?"
Mr. Pennyworth, eyebrows pulled together and mouth turned in a sharp frown, hands him a small earpiece. "When I return, I will knock thrice on the driver's window. If I do not, it is likely that something has happened to me. You will not use that communicator unless I have actually turned into a zombie."
Tim nods gravely. "How long should I wait?"
"I will return within an hour and a half."
Tim tucks himself away in the car and watches as Mr. Pennyworth enters the cemetery, picking the lock and slipping inside. He closes the gate, then vanishes into the darkness.
He can feel his heartbeat in his chest, hear it in his ears even with the rain rattling on the roof of the car. A drop of water runs down the back of his shirt.
Mr. Pennyworth is going to be okay, Tim tells himself. Mr. Pennyworth raised Batman, he's got to be smart. And Mr. Pennyworth had a gun, so he can protect himself if Jason tries to eat him.
Mr. Pennyworth won't get eaten, right?
...Right?
Tim shivers.
He looks out the windows, but the street lamps aren't lighting up much other than the gate, don't shine far enough to let him know what's going on.
He's finally starting to warm up, heat leaching into his fingers and toes, but Mr. Pennyworth still isn't back.
He checks his watch: it's got Robin on the face, and little yellow batman symbols all around the band. It lights up when he pushes the button on the side.
How has it only been fifteen minutes since Mr. Pennyworth went into the cemetery? It felt like it was a lot longer than that, like forty-five minutes at least. If Tim didn't know better, he would think that his watch was broken, but time always does this.
Just when he's waiting for something specific to happen — for school to let out, or Batman to go past a particular roof, or for Mom and Dad to come home — time slows down until it's just a trickle, tick-tick-ticking away one agonizing moment at a time.
Tim checks his watch again: another eight minutes have passed.
Maybe he should sleep?
No, that's stupid. If Mr. Pennyworth turns into a zombie, Tim needs to be awake so he can call Batman.
So he doesn't. Tim stays awake, looking out the window every few minutes to see if Mr. Pennyworth is back, yet. He's aware of every passing second, but somehow he's still startled when a loud tap-tap-tap sounds on the driver's window.
Mr. Pennyworth is back!
Tim scrambles to push the unlock button, and then the door beside him opens, Mr. Pennyworth leaning down carefully.
"Stay calm, Mister Drake," Mr. Pennyworth says, and alarm bells start going off in his head.
Adults never tell you to be calm unless there's a pretty good reason not to.
"I've brought Master Jason back with me. Rest assured, he hasn't been violent in the least. He won't attack you."
Yes.
Yes, that seems like a very good reason not to stay calm, actually.
"Uh." His grasp of English seems to have taken a sudden dive. "But… zombie?"
Mr. Pennyworth shakes his head. "Master Jason has a pulse and has requested Master Bruce's presence. He also recognizes me. To my knowledge, zombies do not have pulses, and they are incapable of speech or identifying people they once knew. Therefore, whatever this may be, it is something different."
It is, Tim thinks, an unfortunately sound argument. He squirms in his seat uncomfortably, but it's Mr. Pennyworth's (or maybe Mr. Wayne's) car.
He wilts.
"Fine, but if I get turned into a zombie I'm eating you, first."
Is it a petty thing to say? Yes.
Is it a rude thing to say? Absolutely.
Is Tim still going to eat Mr. Pennyworth in revenge if he turns into a zombie? Absolutely, positively, one hundred percent.
Mr. Pennyworth doesn't seem upset, though, just gives him an amused glance and then steps aside to help Jason climb into the backseat next to Tim.
Tim eyes him warily, but Jason doesn't even look at Tim. He just sits there and stares blankly ahead as Mr. Pennyworth wraps Jason in a blanket he pulled from who-knows-where and buckles his seatbelt when it becomes clear that Jason isn't actually seeing them, or something.
Tim edges a little bit away, anyways, and only buckles when Mr. Pennyworth says he won't leave until he does it. Darn. He was planning on jumping out if Jason tries to eat him.
To his surprise, though, Tim doesn't need to, because Jason really doesn't try to eat him.
Weird.
Maybe Mr. Pennyworth was right, after all, and Jason really isn't a zombie. But if that's true, then why is Jason… well, alive?
Tim's not being rude (he probably is, actually), but he's really confused.
Then the car is drawing smoothly away from the cemetery gates as Mr. Pennyworth calls Batman, Tim listening with wide-eyed fascination.
"Master Bruce, please return to the Manor immediately. Something rather unbelievable has happened tonight: Master Jason is alive again."
"I haven't the faintest, Master Bruce. You'll want to call in one of your friends, I expect. Doctor Thompkins will also be needed."
"No, sir. He knows me, and he has asked for you, but he hasn't said anything besides that."
"Very good, sir."
"Yes, sir. I'll be calling Master Dick to inform him of the situation momentarily."
"This is his brother, sir. Of course it is important." Mr. Pennyworth's voice gains a sharp little edge. "I won't hear another word on the matter, and no matter how poor your relationship at the moment, you will behave yourselves, am I understood?"
There's a quiet click and Tim stares in awe.
Wow.
Mr. Pennyworth just told off Batman.
Mr. Pennyworth lifts his gaze to look sternly at Tim in the rear-view mirror, streetlights illuminating his face in flashes. "We will, of course, be discussing your role in all of this as well."
This, Tim thinks yet again, was not how he had expected his night to go. At least it's still probably better than getting eaten by a zombie?
—
When my brother proofread this for me, and we were talking about potential titles for it, one of them was "Todd lives at the end." That led to this conversation:
Brother: Who is Todd
Me: Jason Todd
Me: Batman's second robin who got his ass murdered
Brother: Two first names?
Brother: Sure sign of a serial killer
Me: Jason Peter Todd XD
Brother: Batman should have known better smh
Me: His debut for taking over the criminal underworld in Gotham after coming back to life involved a duffel bag of heads.
Brother: See?
Me: to be fair he was catatonic until he got shoved in a magic pit of crazy
Me: and he focuses on murderers and rapists
Me: and also tim