A gentle hand laid itself on the Batman's shoulder, startling the caped crusader. The hero lurched in his chair, ripping his eyes away from the button he had been staring at, lost in though. "Easy," the voice attached to the hand was soothing as it spoke, as if he were an injured, cornered, dog. The voice however did not belong to a face, at least not one that could be seen. This visitor, the one who had snuck up on the Dark Night, was the Dark Night. Or apparently some version of him.

"You could find him," the voice spoke again. "Or-" the hand on his shoulder moved, "you could just be a father." And Bruce Wayne felt his cowl gently being removed. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting the gentle hands slide the heavy material down over the back of his head. The gloved appendages slipped down to cradle his jaw. Bruce opened his eyes. This Batman smiled softly.

Bruce examined him. The cowl was deep black and covered his face completely. The bat on his chest was red. And he was small. Not Tim small, small like a lacrosse player was small compared to a line backer. "You're much more handsome as a terrified father," the Batman was saying, "than as a billionaire playboy." Bruce smiled tremulously while a thumb stroked over his cheekbone. He wasn't sure if he was crying yet, but if Tim wasn't found soon, he sure would be.

TIM!

Bruce jerked again, swinging away to the computer. "I have to find Tim!" All at once his eyes searched the screen and his fingers pounded the keys.

"And you can," that soothing voice said again, "but I'm not sure it's the best thing." Bruce froze. Just... froze. 'How could finding Tim be bad?' Fearfully Bruce looked over his shoulder. Had this Bat - whose ears were too long, whose tone was nothing like vengeance - could he have really come to... Bruce hiccupped silently. The Batman's cowl was serious, but not grim. It was not the kind of expression that promised the death Bruce feared in his heart.

But then suddenly Bruce Wayne was furious. So what that the mask was off, He was Batman! He would find Tim! "You can't stop me!" he shouted, surging up from his chair. Bruce was seething, for the first time he truly felt fully like Batman, even with the mask off. While the real Bruce Wayne was definitely more Bat than businessman, there was still something, even in just a piece of cloth, that made a difference. Tonight that barrier had been destroyed.

"I won't try," The Batman was relaxed, as if he knew all of this was going to happen, "but, there's plenty of time for you to listen." Bruce looked quizzically at his... counterpart? "What should I call-' A sudden shock of dread pulsed through Bruce. Was he saying that Tim was already dead? How could he know?

"You can't know that Tim's dead!" This time his should was desperate, yearning.

"He's not." Bruce felt the air return to his lungs. "But the Joker's already done what he's going to do to him." Bruce sat down, hard, on the floor.

The strange Batman knelt down between his feet, again taking Bruce's face in his hands. "I know this is hard, but in case you haven't figured it out, I'm from the future. I know how this is gonna end; and all the messed up stuff it's gonna cause." Bruce's eyes snapped up to meet the bats, cowl notwithstanding. "The old man doesn't know I'm here. I don't even care if I wink right out of existence, the future has to be better without all of that crap happening to you. The old man didn't deserve it. And that's why I'm here. I think there's a way to stop it from happening."