Pros and cons of punching Kenny Jameson in the face, Jason thought as he made his way to English class. Pro: I got three months free from jeers about my bastard brother and whore mom when I punched Michael Davis. Con: I also got suspended for two weeks and benched from patrol for a month when I punched him. Pro: Kenny's bigger and older than Michael so that might earn me more cred and keep the snobs away even longer. Con: Missing school and patrol sucked.
Jason was still contemplating the issue when someone ran into him, their hand slipping into his pocket to drop something. He sighed internally because now he'd have to play dumb about not knowing that something was in his pocket. It was probably contraband. His assailant probably already had a friend talking to a teacher about how concerned they were so soon enough an adult would come by for a random search. It would be too soon for Jason to have noticed it so the teacher would find it and he'd get in trouble, giving the other kids a good laugh. The only problem for them was that Jason had grown up in Crime Alley. This kid was a lot better than some of the others who'd pulled the trick, but you didn't live long in the Alley if you couldn't notice even the slickest of fingers sliding into your clothes.
Of course, no one at Gotham Academy could know he grew up in the Alley. He was supposed to be Bruce Wayne's son, born to some fling he'd had during a trip to France. This meant that he'd have to pretend not to notice until the kid was gone and he could use a little Bat magic to make the contraband disappear.
At least he could get angry about the kid running into him.
He took a deep breath and looked down, bristling for a fight. Then he looked down even further to stare blankly at the absolutely tiny middle-schooler staring nervously up at him. The kid was almost a head shorter than Jason, who himself was small for his age, and nearly as thin as Jason had been when his dad had first found him. They were Latine with neatly gelled, pitch-black hair and stormy gray-blue eyes. Honestly, the kid was so small Jason worried they'd somehow managed to sneak out of the elementary school building.
"S-sorry, Mr. Jean-Wayne. Sorry," they stuttered out.
Shit, there was no way this ball of nerves was screwing with him. Which meant he was going to have to track down whoever had forced the kid into it and punch them in the face.
The old man was going to be ticked when he got back to town to find out Jason had gotten suspended again.
"It's fine, kid. Just be more careful next time. You okay?"
They nodded, then raced off in the direction they'd been heading before.
Jason watched them go with a frown and casually slipped his hands into his jacket pockets to find out what the kid had snuck him. Instead of drugs or a weapon, though, he found a thumb drive. Curious, he slipped it into a hidden pocket in his jacket sleeve. Then when he got to his classroom without being accosted, he plugged it into a slim black gadget in his messenger bag while pretending to look for his homework.
The gadget, which Dick named the bat-mimic, was technically a portable charger, but if the power button was pressed in a certain order then it would copy everything off a device that was plugged into it onto a cordoned-off portion of the Batwave servers. The bat-mimic could also then delete everything off the device if another code was punched in, which Jason did in case the drive had porn, bomb blueprints, something else on it that would get him in trouble.
Since the bat-mimic sent an alert through Batwave when it was used, he was expecting a call so he slipped into a staircase as soon as he got out of class. Right on time, Barbara's face lit up his phone.
He stuck his earbuds in and answered the call. "Hey -"
"Where did you get all this?"
"What?" Jason said, surprised by her serious tone.
"You're supposed to be at school. Where did you get all this?"
"Some kid gave it to me on a thumb drive." Crap, did the drive actually have bomb blueprints on it? Wait, "I actually am at school, for the record. So don't go telling Dad I ditched like last time."
"You did ditch last time."
"Yeah, but only History. And only because my teacher's racist so there's no point being in there. You didn't have to snitch. Dick didn't say anything."
"He's the one who help-Nevermind. You said a kid gave you all this?"
All? "Yeah, little stickman. Figured an older kid must have bribed or hassled them into trying to get me in trouble. Why?"
His phone's text tone sounded and Barbara asked, "Is this him?"
He looked at the picture she'd sent him to see what appeared to be the kid's school photo. "Yep. Why? What was on the drive?"
"Documents and spreadsheets that act as evidence that Jack and Janet Drake have been laundering money and smuggling for the Court of Owls."
"I'm sorry, what?"
"It's nothing that could solidly prove anything, especially not that the Court exists, and most of the real info is in the Court's code, which we know will be thrown out if anything went to trial, but I know the signs."
"Why the fuck would a kid have that stuff, let alone give it to me?"
He got another message. "He's Timothy Drake, the Drakes' son. And I don't know why he'd give it to you specifically, but I know why he reached out."
She'd sent him a video this time. It opened up looking into a tree at a bird. The camera zoomed in and out on the bird before slowly panning around a garden lit by either early morning or late evening light. It stopped on a fountain where the focus shifted back and forth between it and the ivy wall behind it.
"What are you doing out here at this hour?" a voice called and the camera turned to show a lithe Latina woman and a squat White man who Jason recognized as Janet and Jack Drake.
Janet was closer to the camera and it focused on her as Timothy's voice said, "I'm testing out my new camera. I took some pictures of the sunrise and now I'm -"
"That's nice, dear," Janet said dismissively. "You're father and I need to talk to you about something. Do you remember the very important meeting we told you about?"
"Of course. It's why you had to come back early from Kaznia."
"That's right. As it is, the meeting went off without a hitch. We've managed to secure a deal that will be very profitable for both Drake Industries and our family, which is where you come in."
The view dropped and the Drakes fell out of view. "Me?"
"Yes. The group we're dealing with has… an internship program, of sorts. We've discussed how intelligent you are and they believe you could be a welcome addition to the program with some training."
"You-Wh-what kind of program? What would I be doing?"
"Oh, it wouldn't be much different than what you do in your little gymnastics and karate classes."
"Mixed martial arts," Timothy corrected, voice breathless, and Jason started to get a bad feeling.
"Yes, yes, those. As I was saying, this is a big opportunity for us. The group usually doesn't take applications like this, but your father and I made quite the case for you."
"You asked them to t-let me in?" he said, something broken in his voice and Jason slammed his hand against the wall.
"Yes. I told you, it's quite the opportunity. If you make it through their tests, you will solidify our family's place within the group. You want to help the family, don't you?"
"I-I do, but -"
"Of course you do," Jack spoke up for the first time. "After all we've done for you, it's the least you can do. Isn't that right, sport?"
"Yes, but maybe there's another way I could be useful. I could -"
"Timothy," Janet tutted. "Your father and I agreed that this is for the best."
"But -"
"That's enough," Jack snapped, cheerful voice going hard. "I won't have any more backtalk, got it?"
"Yessir," Timothy said quickly.
"Good. This is an important deal and I won't have your poor manors ruining it."
Timothy's hands briefly came into view as he fidgeted with the camera, but dropped away almost immediately. In a quiet voice, he said, "Sorry. It won't happen again."
"It better not."
A clap sounded as Janet said, "Now that that's settled, you need to head up to your room and get ready. Mrs. Gryason is going to be picking you up directly after school so I want you looking your absolute best."
"Mrs. Grayson?"
"Yes, you remember her from Samantha Vanaver's party last spring? She runs recruitment for the program. She and her husband will pick you up from school and take you to the program's facility."
"T-today?"
"No time like the present," Jack joked.
"So hurry up. Best foot forward, remember?"
"Yes, ma'am."
The view shifted as Timothy turned to walk away and his hand appeared onscreen again just before the video ended.
Jason wanted to throw his phone, preferably at Janet Drake's face. How could she sound so calm and disinterested while talking about…
"Please tell me they weren't talking about what I think they were talking about?"
"It adds up. We already know Mary's in charge of finding new kids to turn into Talons," Barbara said with an anger laced voice. "The Drakes are also new money. They'd need something big if they wanted actual places amongst the Court."
"Something big like selling their kid to psychopaths to be turned into an undead assassin," Jason muttered in Miagani. "So you think the drive was the kid's way of getting help?"
"He certainly seems to know more than Janet and Jack think he does. Maybe he overheard them talking about the Court or found something in their files."
He nodded, even though she couldn't see him. Or probably couldn't see him, you never knew with Barbara. "And then, what? You think he went through his parents' stuff to get all those files?"
"He might have already had them if he knew enough about the Court to be afraid. I'd say he quickly filled up the drive with the files and this video then left it with you as an in case of my disappearance type thing. He must know - or at least hope - that Bruce isn't part of the Court."
"Well fuck that. We can't just let the talons get him."
"I know, but there's a lot here, and even if there's something I overlooked, it would take too long for the police to go through it all and gather enough to have reasonable cause to take custody of him. If they even could, knowing the Court."
Jason growled and ran his fingers through his hair. There had to be something they could do. They couldn't just leave that shrimp to the same fate his dad had saved Dick from.
His dad.
"Hey, Barbie, what's Dickie doing right now?"
"… Why?"
"Are you going to eat that or not?"
Tim blinked and looked up at Zoanne, an older girl he usually ended up sitting next to for lunch due to a lack of other options. "What?"
"You've been staring at your food for twenty minutes," she said, not looking up from her book. "I'll take your pudding if you're not going to eat it."
Tim looked back down at his food, then passed her the pudding.
He felt nauseous and shaky so he was sure anything he ate was just going to come right back up. He wished he'd just gone straight to Wayne Manor that morning after his parents had broken the news. He hadn't wanted to risk leading someone to Batman if he was being watched, though. He had thought slipping the drive to Nicolas Jacques "Jay" Jean-Wayne (aka Red Hood) was a good idea, but now he couldn't stop thinking about all the ways it could go wrong. What if Jacques just tossed the drive? What if he waited until he got home to look at it? What if he thought it was just a trap and ignored it? What if the files weren't enough to convince Batman that Tim's parents were part of the Court of Owls so he thought Tim really was just being sent to an internship?
Tim pushed his tray away and put his head down on the table.
Zoanne took his juice.
He stayed like that through the rest of lunch hour, contemplating if he'd be able to sneak out of the school. He'd gotten good at sneaking over his years of following the Bats and Nightwing, but sneaking out of an empty mansion and across rooftops was a lot harder than sneaking out of a populated school with security at every exit.
A chime signaled the end of lunch and Tim groaned.
Zoanne gathered her things and headed back inside, giving his back a quick pat as she went.
After a minute, he reluctantly peeled himself off the table and stood. He put on his backpack, then reached for his tray.
An arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him up onto someone's shoulder. Tim tried to squirm away until he heard someone shout, "Holy shit, that's Nightwing!"
Tim turned to look at his captor. He saw dark gray pouches, the black-armored back of a suit, the suit's cobalt shoulders, and a familiar head of brown-black hair. Nightwing (aka Dixon "Dick" Wayne) turned to smile at him.
"What is he doing here?"
"Who's that he's got?"
"I got a call saying you needed a rescue," Nightwing said, ignoring the whispers coming from around the courtyard, and Tim nodded.
"Does that mean Batman's here?"
"Where's security!?"
"Brace yourself," Nightwing whispered as he pulled out a grappling gun.
"Stay where you are!" a guard shouted as he ran into the courtyard, but Nightwing and Tim were already taking to the air.
A wave of relief crashing over him, Tim bit down a laugh and relaxed into Nightwing's grip as the young man raced across Gotham Academy's roof and grappled onto a nearby building. It worked. Red Hood had gotten his message and now he would be safe. He wouldn't be turned into… turned into a…
A sound slipped out of him that was a hysterical mix of a giggle and a sob and Tim covered his mouth, pressing his face into Nightwing's back.
Despite his efforts, the vigilante must have heard him. He slowed to a stop and set Tim down on top of an air conditioning unit. "Hey, buddy. It's okay. You're okay. I won't hu-"
Tim threw his arms around Nightwing's neck. "Thank you!"
The vigilante quickly hugged him back, and Dick's hug was just as good as he remembered.
"I wasn't sure if Jason would get my message in time," he sniffed.
"Yeah, Jean-Wayne was worried about the message and sent it to his father, who -" Nightwing pulled away with a frown. "Wait, what did you say?"
Rubbing his eyes, Tim went back through his words. The blood left in his face in a rush. "I-I said I wasn't sure if Jacques would get my message in time."
"No, you didn't."
"I did," he squeaked, trying to shuffle backward despite the arms still wrapped around him.
"Kid." Nightwing let go of him, only to grab his shoulders. "Hey, Timothy, it's okay."
"Tim."
"Tim," Nightwing agreed. "Can you take a deep breath for me, Tim?"
He nodded and forced himself to take a deep breath.
"Good. Now, can you tell me why you called him Jason instead of Jacques?"
Tim bit his lip then leaned his forehead against Nightwing's chest. "I know."
"Know?"
"That Jacques is Jason. Red Hood. And you're Dick Wayne." Tim glanced up at the vigilante then looked back down. "I'm sorry."
"Hey, I'm not mad. Just worried. Who told you this?"
"No one," Tim said quickly, looking up. "I swear. No one told me and I haven't told anyone. I've been super careful, especially after finding out who my par-my parents are working with."
Nightwing met his eyes for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. Okay, Tim. I believe you. I still need to know how you know if no one told you, though."
Tim nodded. "I doubt you remember, but five years ago you rescued me when Two-Face took over GNHM while my class was on a field trip. One of the guys grabbed me when you and Batman showed up and you got me away from him. Then, a month later, we were both at an event for Gotham Academy that got attacked by Mr. Freeze. Batman and Nightwing showed up, but it wasn't you. He was slightly thinner and shorter and his skin was lighter and his hair was just black instead of brown-black plus they didn't move like you so I thought about it and I realized someone else must have been pretending to be Nightwing and the only reason that would happen was if you were already at the event as a civilian and Batman wanted to cover it up so I considered everyone who was at the party and narrowed it down to people around the right age with similar body types and skin tones since hair and eyes could be faked then I looked up everyone that was left to see if there was any other times they were in the same place as Nightwing and I found that footage of when Penguin kidnapped Dixon Wayne right after he first appeared in public and I realized Nightwing looked weird in that too because he looked too close to how you had looked the last time you'd been seen with the Titans which had been almost a year earlier so then I realized that if you were Nightwing then Mr. Wayne would have to be Batman so I started comparing him and -" he cut off with a blush as the sounds of sirens cutting through the air made him realize he'd been rambling. "Sorry. Sorry, I'll get to the point. Sorry."
"No, it's fine," Nightwing said, his voice soft, and he rubbed Tim's arms. "I wanted to know, remember, and the more details you can give us the better. You're more than welcome to infodump."
Infodump? Tim wondered.
The vigilante glanced towards the school. "Though maybe we should take this somewhere a little more private."
Tim nodded and Nightwing piggy-backed him across two more roofs then down into an alley where the Batmobile was hidden.