Jason's first thought was that he hated interdimensional travel. His second was that he was going to kill Tim for getting sucked into the portal. Honestly, by this point, they all had enough experience with dimension-hopping that it should be obvious to avoid strange swirling colors in the sky, especially when they were accompanied by an alien invasion.

Blinking the haze out of his vision, he gave his surroundings a quick visual sweep while he waited for his stomach to settle. Protocol had been drilled into his head so many times, it was second nature.

Step 1: catalog your surroundings

Step 2: blend in

Step 3: figure out where you landed

Step 4: complete your mission with as little impact as possible

He peered out of the alley. When he didn't see anyone, he casually walked out. He stopped by a newspaper stand to check the date and city. The Gotham Gazette proudly declared the Knights had won their district championship yesterday, June 10th, 2015.

Great. He was in the right place at the right time. Now he just had to figure out where Tim was.

Jason shoved his hands in his pockets and kept walking. Vehicular traffic was scarce but there was absolutely no other foot traffic. The silence made Jason's skin crawl. He was just about to cross the street when a cop car pulled up next to him.

Leaving the cruiser rumbling at the green light, the cop swung open his door and tripped over his own feet trying to get out. "Hello," he said from the ground.

Jason stared at him, baffled. It was Dick.

"Greetings!" Dick shouted when he regained his balance. He skipped up to the sidewalk, leaving the car door wide open.

"Uh, hi," Jason replied. He stared at Dick as he approached. Several things were different about this universe—which wasn't all that strange. Firstly, Officer Dick Grayson worked for Gotham PD instead of Bludhaven PD. And secondly, Dick Grayson didn't recognize Jason. That meant Bruce had adopted only either Dick or Jason, not both.

"Are you alright?" Dick bent over and started inspecting Jason from foot to head. "Are you physically unharmed? It is alright for you to tell me. It is okay for you to tell me whether or not you are alright."

"I'm…fine?" And why wouldn't he be. As far as Dick knew, Jason was just walking. There was no way he had known about the dimensional travel.

"My name is Dick. Dick is what I am known by." Dick's hand shot out and snatched Jason's, shaking it vigorously. "Can you name yourself? What is it that you are known by?"

"Uh, Jason."

"This is Gotham. Gotham is this place, where you are now." Dick dropped Jason's hand and gestured around them. "Gotham is where I am from. Can you name where you are from? Can you tell me the place?"

"Why? Am I under arrest or something? What'd I do?"

Dick squinted at Jason. "You talk weird. You do not talk normal. Why do you talk so weird?"

Jason gritted his teeth. He was the one talking weird? Was this guy from the loony bin? He was just about to ask when a second cop car pulled up.

Dick spun around, a huge grin splitting his face. He waved exuberantly to the second cop.

"Dick, I was worried about you," said the new officer as he, too, left his cruiser running in the middle of the road. "I was concerned about you. I was worried because I did not know where you were. You should not make me worry like that. You should not make me feel so anxious. Next time tell me where you are."

Jason stared harder. The new cop was Bruce-fucking-Wayne.

"I am sorry, Bruce, but I met this strange man," Dick replied. "He is very weird. I have seen many strange things but he is even stranger!"

"You know you should not talk to strangers, Dick," Bruce scolded. He even shook his finger. "You should not talk to people you do not know. Strangers can be dangerous."

Yup. This universe was definitely going to go on Jason's list of Do-Not-Ever-Visit-Again.

"Besides, Clark called us. Clark used the phone to contact us," Bruce continued. He still hadn't looked at Jason. "He tried to call Oliver and Barry, but they could not come. They were busy with a duck."

"A duck?" Jason blurted. Both officers ignored him.

"What does he need our help for? With what does Clark need our assistance?" asked Dick.

"Lex Luther has stolen forty cakes," Bruce said, as seriously as a cop from Jason's world would say someone had stolen forty million dollars.

"That is as many as four tens!" Dick wailed.

"And that is terrible," they said in unison.

Jason turned on his heel and speedwalked back the way he had come. There was no way he was staying in this freaky world any longer than he needed to.

AN:

This past semester I took a creative writing course and every week we had to write a short story from the given prompt. The prompt during the week I wrote this had something to do with strangeness/oddities. So this is what my brain spat out. Apparently, it was too strange for my professor, though, cause she nitpicked it to death and didn't understand why I didn't use contractions, why the character dialogue was awkward, and thought I should rewrite it so that minor things (that I intended to be minor) should have a bigger impact.
Ma'am, I just wanted to write something weird. Like you told me to. Like the rest of the class did. Can't a story be weird for the sake of being weird?